Blasé

 

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Introduction

Ophelia is a succubus, and a slacker at that. What do you do when you've got eternity to live but no ambition? 

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Enter Ophelia

I wish someone would gouge these stars from my damn eyes.

My name is Ophelia and I'm a succubus. Yes, that kind of sex demon/goddess/whatever you want to call us. We exist. In fact we do a little more than that, some of us actually thrive. Some of us have homes, jobs, and families. Some of us are solitary, others of us have groups we work/travel in.

Ophelia looked down at her journal entry and snorted back a laugh before tearing out the page and burning it between her fingers. Whoever suggested that journaling was therapeutic was obviously human. That sort of thing wasn't going to work for someone who was just over 300 years old going through a crisis. 

Actually it was multiple crises. 

In spite of being 3 times the human lifespan with supernatural abilities, Ophelia had one glaring-ass problem: she was a sex demon and was phenomenally average. Not only was she phenomenally average she happened to be running low on energy. If she dipped below a certain level she'd get called back home and would be berated by her own mother and be sent back to school. 

Why couldn't I be born a vampire? She gripped for the hundredth time. Succubi that were vampire-born had the best abilities of pretty much everyone. She, however, was angel-born and pretty much the opposite. Her mother had somehow seduced one from Heaven and actually got pregnant. It didn't help matters that getting pregnant by an angel is the human equivalent of getting knocked up in your teens. ​How did she ever get away with this? 

She tried to drown her thoughts by glaring at the blank page in her black book. Nothing came to mind for her to write. Existential angst was something for humans to deal with. When you've got eternity to live with yourself those things stop mattering. Legacies and lifework are effectively meaningless because you've got plenty of time to come up with something crazy to do. When looking at a blank page didn't work out she took to the internet to look up appearances she could take on.

Celebreties, porn stars, alternative models, the possibilities were endless. Her creativity was not. For now she was an athletic dark skinned woman with long dreadlocks and her temples were shaved. Her breasts were modest in size but her nipples were pierced. Her entire back was covered in supernatural themed ink, which was appropriate since she worked in a tattoo shop but was considering quitting and going into something that might bring in more rewarding work. 

The starving artist life was a pretty good low-key livelihood for succubi. The ignored underbelly of society was full of subcultures that any succubi with half her wings could walk right into and not question it. There were lots of lonely people full of sexual energy that could be harvested in the drop of a hat. Ophelia honestly found it preferable to escorting or going to high school. She knew of a few who fed into that sort of thing. One succubus stayed in middle school for 4 decades. Apparently there was a full market of predatory fathers out there, easily exploitable and punished. 

And speaking of starving, she's also starting to run low on energy. She had to load up on energy or she'd get dragged back home to be retrained. And worse, her mother would yell at her and call her by her full name again. Any demon getting called by their full name is automatically bound. Getting bound sucks, even if you're already back home. You just sit there until someone unbinds you, but good luck on getting unbound when you're being laughed at by the surrounding population because your mother is yelling at you because your energy levels dropped too low. Embarrassing as fuck.

"Embarrassing", she muttered as she sauntered her way down the fire escape spiral steps to where the kitchen was on the lower floor. There were three identical ones like it in the building and hers just happened to be within a small walking distance to the fridge. She pulled on the old handle to peer at the contents: leftover Chinese, several small bottles of sake, oranges and apples, KFC, vodka, and something that may or may not be kimchi.

Human food. She grimaced as she closed the door, not daring to open it again. She didn't have to eat if she'd just have sex a little more often. But sex wasn't really doing it for her lately. Was it lack of desire? Or was it lack of something else? She opened the door again to grab an apple and orange. She'd have to get her hands on some food outside, some mom and pop shop would likely have something she'd much rather snack on.

She munched on the apple as she pulled on her jeans and a hilariously ironic t-shirt that said "Ask Me How My Day Was". She studied her reflection that showed her true self. Human, but vaguely uncanny. Her horns, tail, and wings were invisible. She didn't need glamour to hide those. As she brushed her teeth she noticed that her true nature was starting to show through a little bit. This always happened when she was low on energy. Nothing bad happened to her personally, it's just that she couldn't keep up the charade anymore. One of the big rules of supernatural beings is to keep up the charade at all times, except when they don't. Ghosts were notorious for allowing themselves to be seen.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck, I need to fuck. She thought sourly as she cleaned out her mouth for the final time. She threw her locs up into a ponytail and slathered on some turquoise eyeshadow. She penciled in her brows and sprayed some vanilla and peach smelling body spray. Not her favorite scent, but she'd live with it until she could get her hands on more pachouli. The shop didn't open until around noon; but the owner was usually in an hour early. This meant she could stop by the Bureau to look at her options for the future. 

The Bureau was basically the department that kept track of all supernatural creatures in the state. I could be accessed from just about anywhere. Portals were very easy to find since they went through a reform half a century ago. Then again...she could've just gone through her mirror...which would've made more sense. Bleh. Her sense of self awareness was lacking. She sat outside her favorite tree on the Mall Drive where shops and restaurants were located and checked her iPad for possible career choices. They really liked it when you had some sort of idea of what you wanted to do before you went in.

Succubi can have literally any career they want because voluntary shapeshifting provided infinite opportunities. Some were lazy and opted to be teenagers in families or posing as spouses with other supernatural creatures. Maybe she should stop being so mediocre and go for something fun, like a porn star. She winced as she remembered her brief stint as an amateur. Minotaurs were the absolute worst. Lets just leave it at that. Yeah but you could meet all sorts of people! Yeah right. 

There were jobs open for history teachers, but they wanted you to at least be 800 years old for that role. What the hell kind of bullshit is that? They even have the date "You Must Be Born Before This Time Period To Apply". Well fine! She didn't want to be a teacher anyway. Ophelia sighed and walked around the corner into an alley that would have a portal and stepped right through. Actually, it was more like 'keep walking in a straight line and boom, you're there.'

 

 

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Enter the Bureau

Life can be defined by one thing: paperwork

If there were any misconceptions humans had about the supernatural world Ophelia would say that the biggest one would have to be that things are much more efficient. Newsflash: they weren't. Paperwork was the backbone of this organization but it was also not completely necessary. Why did she need 3 forms of ID when EVERYONE knew that succubi all come from the same area? The waiting room was full (as always) with supernatural creatures of all kinds for all sorts of reasons. Dragons had to register their hordes. Vampires that had stayed in the public eye for too long had to come in and discuss their options. Sirens that had drowned too many people had to pay fines. Witches that had to explain why they got kicked out of their covens and register their Tarot Decks.

It was a mess. 

Fortunately the waiting room was in a dimension outside of time so nobody would be late for any engagements. Time on the other side had stopped completely so she could just pick back up where she left off. They also had those hella obnoxious "take a number" canisters that dispensed those stupid ass tickets showing your place in line. Ophelia reached out and snatched a number before taking a seat next to a crow that seemed pretty annoyed that she had showed up.

"Did you have to wear so much perfume?" it said, turning to her as smartly as a crow could do. Ophelia turned to the creature with a bored expression but said nothing. She thought for a moment of how long she'd have to be there, her number was 467 and it could take a while.

"I'm sorry my scent offends you," she decided apologizing would be the best route. "I wasn't paying attention this morning." 

"Wow, a succubus that actually apologizes," the crow sniffed in dull surprise, "that's new." She raised an eyebrow in surprise, were succubi not known for having manners or what?

"It's a demon thing, we aren't known for being--ahem--humble. We're usually at most, affable until we get annoyed." The corvid shook out its wings as if to agree. She wasn't sure what to say next.

"Um, I'll...take greater care next time," she finally spoke. The crow seemed a bit embarrassed for what it had said earlier, as if it had spoken too soon or said too much. "Um, my name is Ophelia. Sometimes people call me Felia because they think it sounds cooler."

"The name's Ren, like the other bird but not," the crow responded holding out a claw as if to shake hands. Ophelia reached out with four fingers in exchanged what could be called a handshake between species. It was a pretty polite gesture in place of what had transpired earlier. The bird was fortunate Ophelia knew a bit about birds to know that it meant a 'wren'.

"So...are you an elemental or something?" she asked, trying not to pry too much. After all, everyone had their secrets and sensitivities. Ren gave a chuckle and shuffled their feathers.

"I am a witch, or I kind of used to be. I practiced alchemy---I still do but it's hard when all you've got is talons and a beak. I had a potion accident and now I can't change back, so I'm stuck like this." Ren spread their wings out modestly and shrugged. "That was about 2 years ago. I'm kind of used to this but I'm a bit salty about it."

"You can't change back, ever?" Ophelia was intrigued.

"If someone gives me a temporary human form that lasts about 12 hours I'm usually able to hold a mostly human form. I end up looking like a harpy though. It's mostly better than nothing. I don't really require it though." Came the reply. 

"Hm," Ophelia thought out loud, "well that makes for quite a story. What're you here for?"

"I'm still classified as a witch but under these circumstances since I can't effectively practice magic I just have to check in monthly. Sometimes they have leads for a cure, but they've been a bust. Caw." Ren shuffled their feathers again and sat down properly. Not another word passed between them as the line slowly moved until it was her turn. She was pointed to an office where a considerably older succubus was shuffling papers and filling data. The woman had taken on the form of a vaguely familiar MILF porn star, her shirt was unbuttoned pretty far to make room for her more than ample breasts and didn't bother wearing a bra. Her short pink horns glowed of some unknown reason. 

"Last name?" the succubus uttered in a buttery voice.

"Drenyss," Ophelia replied while sitting down.

"First name?" she was entering the data into her computer that seemed to also be made for gaming. Ophelia winced. She hated her first name.

"Nerissa," she tried using her nickname she used back in school. The woman looked up over her cat eye glasses (was she wearing them earlier?).

"Your actual given name please," she sounded exasperated. What crawled into her vagina this morning?

"Nesslisa," Ophelia relented as she handed over her identification.

"Holy shit you're Sarira's daughter," came her surprised response. The other succubus tugged on her shirt to cover up more boob area when she could've easily shrank her size or made her clothes fit better. Sometimes they got so used to wearing clothes they forgot about things like that. Very few succubi stay in spirit form.

"Does everyone know her?" Ophelia moaned and covered her face with her hands, slouching in  her chair at the realization. 

"Aside from most succubi knowing each other, no. She was the bitch that made a bet that she could get pregnant by an angel. Nobody actually expected her to go out and get knocked up." The milf let out a laugh before seemlessly moving onto the next topic. "You're interested in a career change but your levels are low as fuck and you haven't had sex in a week. What do you expect me to do for you?" she crossed her arms under her chest and glared at her. 

"I just want to see what my options are," Ophelia placed her hands on the desk and glowered. She hated it when others looked down on her.

"At this rate you have no options, you don't have enough energy to keep up the masquerade and will be out in 3 days. Soon you'll get called back to retrain and who knows how long that will take. You don't even have enough energy to take on a new appearance." She held out her hands in a careless gesture. "We've had some like you come by and we always recommend that they go out, load up on energy, and then come back in a week. Otherwise we've got nothing. I can't recommend you anything in your condition."

Ophelia sighed and took back her IDs. "Thank you for the help," she muttered, unable to bring out the sarcasm in her voice like she wanted. At least her heritage didn't get brought up this time. She was one of the few angel-born succubi out there so not much could be made about her state of existing. It wasn't that she didn't want to have sex or like it, she just didn't see the point in anything she did.

As she walked out of the alley, time continued as usual. It was as if she had never left. It was in the middle of August and hot as fuck outside. She somehow didn't realize until a breeze blew that she hadn't bothered to put on a bra before leaving. Naturally the cool breeze made her already stiff nipples stand out more than usual. Good thing her shirt was black.

After grabbing a burrito from the local family owned joint she made her way to the tattoo parlor. The guy who owned it was human in his mid-thirties. He was an average six feet with a buzz cut and attractive facial hair. He looked like he was slightly hungover even though he was getting better about his drinking. His flannel shirt with rolled up sleeves showed of his tanned skin and numerous tattoos that covered it. 

"Morning Serg," she singsonged as she stepped in. There was still a little over an hour before he flipped the sign around. 

"How many times to I have to tell you not ta call me that?" he drawled, trying to look angry. "The name is Sergio, don't get comfortable with me. I only let you work here." She pretended to look upset as she gnawed on the burrito and sauntered to the back of the shop and half turning to gloat. Sergio and her had a volatile relationship that bordered on antagonistic at times. He always tried to act like he was better than her for some reason, but he couldn't resist her if she came onto him. 

She stuffed the last of the burrito in her mouth and tossed the foil in the garbage. She figured that she could get some energy out of him today. A good sex session in the back of the tattoo shop felt pretty appealing. If she provoked him enough she'd get him to hate-fuck her which would provide her favorite form of energy. How did the humans say it? He's looking like a snack today. She chuckled to herself as she put away her backpack and approached him. 

Sergio was sitting on a bar stool going through his portfolio of designs. She knew he was secretly comparing all of his designs to hers. "Trying to convince yourself that you're better than me?" she scoffed from behind him. He sat up and turned to face him. His grey eyes hardened at the sight of her. She leaned back on the counter with her elbows and stuck her tongue out at him. 

"Fuck you," he scoffed right back.

"Why'd you hire me if I make you so mad?" she pushed herself off the counter and made a slow approach. She always asked this question and got different answers every single time. 

"Diversity hiring," came the crass reply. Ophelia placed her hands on his thighs just below his groin where her thumbs almost came in contact with his crotch. 

"You and I both know that is a lie," she purred matter-of-factly, squeezing his thighs gently. His demeanor shook momentarily but he didn't move her hands. She slowly drew her hands up until they grabbed the belt loops on his jeans. He didn't quite realize it, but he was opening his legs a little wider. She came closer and closer until her face was inches from his, just far enough away to taunt him a little more. Her fingers still in his belt loops she smiled wryly. "For someone who hates me you are sure worked up. What's got you so nervous?" 

A regular woman might have to work hard to get under a man like this, but being a succubus made this task a lot easier and ten times more fun. She rarely used her powers on Sergio since she could tell his true feelings for her. Inching in closer she stuck out her tongue and traced his lower lip with it. He shuddered in delight, still trying to hold onto his hatred. It was no use, his blood was flowing to his groin, his heart was starting to race, his scent was changing, his eyes were dilating. 

"Fuck you," was all he could manage to muster, not moving. He neither pushed her away nor drew him in. She just needed to hear the magic word.

"You seem pent up, Serg, you wanna do something about it?" she crooned, lacing her voice with just enough persuasion to tip him over the edge.

"Yes", he replied breathlessly, hand moving to undo the top button on his pants. Without him noticing she had moved him to the private piercing room where they pierced genitalia. Ophelia grinned smugly as she unzipped his pants and pulled them down just enough to bring his dick into view. She was just going to toss him around a bit, not completely trash him...although she could do that too. Later. She told herself. She could always get him later. It never took much effort.

She studied his dick for a moment, the veiny organ twitched in desire, begging for her lips and mouth to caress it. She chuckled at her excitement as she licked it from the roots to the shaft, saving the tip for last as she brought her entire mouth around it, sucking the first bit of precum that had bubbled up to the surface.

To a human mouth precum would taste bitter or tarty, to a succubus it tastes like eating delicious food. It was basically nourishment in liquid form and she was determined to get more out of him. She straddled him on the chair, her mouth doing most of the work. Her saliva filled with aphrodisiac worked its way into his skin, making him even hornier than he already was. She twisted her tongue around his shaft; sucking gently, pulling him into a sweet hypnosis. Once he uttered the magic word it bound him to her, he wouldn't be able to get away until she released him from the...experience. 

Sergio was in the beginning stages of Bliss. She could just make him cum from a blowjob and he would feel like he had undergone completely immersed sex. Ophelia herself felt the need to experience a little bit more than just feeding her face. She lifted herself off of him and removed her pants and underwear, not bothering to take off her shirt. Carefully she took his wet member and pierced herself with it.

He let out a loud moan, his voice came in gasps as he clasped his hands around her hips. At this point he would be feeling pleasure rippling through his body, Ophelia was just getting started. The tattoo shop wasn't her favorite hookup, nor was the afternoon the time of day for fucking. However, she could feel his thickness feeling her up and she had no complaints about that. She started to move her hips slowly, making sure to get an even rhythm that he could keep up to. Sergio's eyes were glazed over in a trance.

Suddenly the bell rang on the door and as if on cue, he burst anticlimactically inside her. Ophelia wasted no time jumping back into her jeans. At least she remembered her panties this time. As a professional sex demon, she had no need to panic once discovered. She no longer felt shame or embarrassment, just mild annoyance that the energy she gathered was half it would've been without the interruption. She caught a glance of her reflection in a mirror, her glamour was holding up better than it was this morning. It was still not enough though. 

In a moment's notice she managed to sneak back into the parlor area, leaving Sergio still dazed back in the piercing room to gather his bearings. It was unlikely that he'd remember their encounter since he reached Bliss so quickly. It also occurred to her that while he was easy, her boss was lousy prey. He had sex frequently and therefore had lower quality energy to offer. This realization made her facepalm in embarrassment. She'd have to look elsewhere for prey.

Dammit all to Lilith. She cursed under her breath. This put her in a sour mood for the rest of the afternoon. Fortunately for her she wasn't scheduled for any tattoo appointments. She'd just take walk-ins. So far there were only the other two employees here. Both of them were human with a vague idea of the supernatural. 

"Genkideska?" Ophelia drawled in her less than delectable Japanese to Midori who was walking back from the bathroom. Midori and her had a pretty good relationship as far as employees went. she didn't give her half the shit Sergio did. She had also been in the business longer. Midori was a whole foot shorter than her with a massive fucking rack. It never came up in conversation, but Ophelia recalled her saying something about killing the next person who called her Kaho. A few minutes on the internet explained everything. 

"I'm doing just peachy," Midori replied flippantly. That was how their greetings usually went. Ophelia didn't speak a lick of actual Japanese, even though it wouldn't be that hard for her to learn. She figured any outstanding abilities would make her look strange. After all, she was laying low in the human world and having too many special abilities would make her stand out. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a giant thud on the counter next to her. She turned to see that Midori had dropped a giant book bag right next to her.

"What's in that?" Ophelia inquired, noting the size and the shape. It looked like a tactical assault pack. 

"It's just a bunch of rope," the other girl replied casually. 

"Rope..." the succubus had to ponder it a moment, "You're going spelunking?" Midori burst out laughing. I was wrong. It's for shibari. 

"It's for shibari," she explained, "You know, BDSM lite? Classical Asian torture stuff? Or are you secretly a vanilla poser?" She gave off a slightly smug smile as she dragged the bag behind the counter onto the floor.

"I am absolutely one hundred percent a vanilla poser," Ophelia replied sticking out her tongue. If she were an ordinary woman it would be insulting to be called vanilla. But of course, she wasn't a human woman. Did being a succubus make her automatically kinky? They both laughed at the notion. It was known that she, Ophelia, had enough kinks of her own. But rope was something she hadn't experienced very much in her 300 years. There was one time 20 years ago she got tied up in a home invasion. It turned out that the men actually stole what was in her house and left her alone. It was...underwhelming. Was she choosing the wrong appearances? 

Raul showed up twenty minutes later and turned the sign over. They were officially in business. Raul and Sergio were not related in the slightest. They just so happened to look eerily alike. For a moment Ophelia thought he was a doppelgänger until she examined him more closely. Raul had worked on an oil rig about five years ago before he moved to this town. He still wore coveralls and a work cap when he was in the shop. I just got so used to wearing it I haven't bothered buying much else.

Unlike Sergio, Raul actually liked Ophelia. The three of them were almost a family. It was because of their closeness that Sergio wouldn't fire Ophelia. Also unlike Sergio, she had not slept with or attempted to seduce Raul. It felt unnaturally immoral to do something like that. To seduce someone who helped you keep the job you wanted felt dishonest. Words like 'immoral' and 'dishonest' were words that didn't bother succubi. Their whole shtick was to exchange mind-blowing sex for energy. It was a pretty even system that was mostly harmless. What was weird was her unstable moral alignment telling her she couldn't sleep with someone because she felt like she owed him something. She figured in thanks she wouldn't fuck him, which was a bit of a gift in and of itself. 

The three of them were passing around cans of ginger ale when Sergio finally shuffled out the door clutching his head. Midori and Raul were alarmed but she wasn't. One of the side effects of Bliss was a sense of disorientation. He'd be back to normal after a smoke or two. Raul was helping Sergio outside to the alley where they'd light up a cigg or two and come back in fifteen minutes. 

"Serg looks kinda bad," Midori mumbled as she took a drag from her can. 

"Eh, I'm sure it was just a hangover. You know he loves his beer an shit," Ophelia replied crassly then quickly added, "He should've stayed home today if it was that bad though." She didn't want to sound too mean. Even though he gave her a lot of shit she still needed to be grateful for the job she had, even if she could walk out whenever she wanted. Midori nodded before pulling out a compact mirror and adjusting her black lipstick. She wished she could wear lipstick, but her habit of biting her lips made wearing it not worth the hassle. 

This might be a long day. 

Back at her apartment that she shared with anywhere between four and six other people at any given time, Ophelia shrank down into her clawed bathtub. The water was way hotter than any human being could reasonably stand and it was filled with iris petals, epsom salt, and some dragon blood. She had read somewhere that it was good for her complexion in her demon form. 
Before she had left work that day, Midori invited her to come to a roping exhibition around nine that night.

Since it might be a good opportunity to pick up some prey she had no choice but to oblige. The time was around 6pm when they closed down shop. Business had actually been pretty good that day. Ophelia didn't have many tattoos to do, but she had a long line of people wanting their septums pierced. It seemed the alternative models were starting to bring that back into fashion. 

Ophelia thought back to home and how rigorous and monotonous school was. If she didn't get laid tonight she was in for the worst of the worst. Getting called back home was an experience that  was made to be as humiliating as possible. Her mother, an excellent succubus with excellent standing in spite of her fucking angels bit, was going to rip her a new one. She'd probably insist they live together as mother and daughter so she could keep a better eye on her. She shuddered at the thought. Mother, as great as she was, was amazingly embarrassing to be around.

Growing up in Arcadia (where all the fae dwelled) was a very specific kind of suck. Her mother, Sarira had some really weird ideas about succubus hierarchy that didn't quite make sense. First, she believed that angel-born succubi were special since they were so rare. Ophelia was probably one of 5 that had ever existed in their recorded history. Angels were notoriously difficult to get along with much less seduce. She was unsure of the details surrounding her birth but learned that her sire was burning in the Redemptive Fire and would stay there about a thousand years or so. Nice going, Dad. 

Second, her mother paid too much attention to Earth trends. Earth Trends were basically what humans believed about the supernatural. This particularly pertained to goth fashion and occult practices. With the invention of pastel goth and horns coming into fashion she thought that signaled a new wave of succubus thought. She dressed Ophelia in pastels and bleached her horns so they were pure white. "We're the new succubi, which means we are nicer than our older counterparts." She had said. Ophelia had no idea what she was talking about. A quick look into the human world put those questions to rest.

Third, her mother insisted on bringing her the most high class prey instead of letting her hunt on her own. She charmed priests and alter boys (who were over a certain age) as well as Republican politicians and brought them to her to violate. She wasn't allowed to go to ceremonies or rituals with the other succubi because she believed those were unnecessary. How she came to that conclusion was anyone's guess. It was no wonder when she started the Academy everyone looked at her strange. With her bleached horns, pastel clothing (no matter how revealing it was), and lack of skills both social and otherwise it was no surprise that her graduating was a fluke at best. 

And here she was at risk for being sent back home. Ophelia sighed and blew bubbles in the water. This totally blew. Had she ever accomplished anything worthwhile in her time spent here? She thought over how she had spent the past decade and wondered if going home wouldn't be so bad. Perhaps the re-education wouldn't hurt? Maybe she could learn something good?

Using a bit of psychic energy she made the little rubber duck in the water bobble up and down while she remained motionless. Whatever her choices were, she knew that she could at least pick up a guy tonight to feed off of. That would stave off her return for another 3 days but it wouldn't be enough. She would have to seduce more people if she wanted to gather enough energy to keep up her charade. If she had sex at least once every day for a week she'd be set. How hard could it be? She thought to herself before realizing she hadn't had successful intercourse with Sergio that afternoon. She'd have to go for someone else. 

Summoning her mirror she looked through all the possible outfits she could wear to the roping event. Technically she could wear whatever clothes she wanted regardless of brand or price, but she enjoyed the small limits of being in a human body.  There were a variety of sexy tribal-coded clothing available for her to wear. The green hooded pixie dress she had bought online a year ago but never worn was still hiding in the back of her wardrobe. She beckoned it forward from he mirror and had it placed on her bed. She could wear her black flat boots since she was probably going to be standing for a while.

Suddenly her mirror turned green signaling a call from her mother. She reached out and swiped right to answer. 

"Nessie dear, how are you?" her mother's face appeared in the mirror. Sarira was a sweet looking succubus, not quite like the curvaceous babes most humans thought of. She was actually on the shorter side with ibex horns and pale purple skin and silver hair thrown up in a bun. 

"I'm fine mom," Ophelia replied, drawing out the 'i', "How are you?"

"I heard from the Bureau that you were looking to switch careers but didn't have enough energy? Have you been eating well?" she quickly added, looking at her intently. Before Ophelia could respond her mother leaned forward intently. "Your glamour is getting weak. What have you been up to?!" The urgency in her voice made Ophelia wince, she hated it when he mother got like that. 

"I...have been...slacking off lately," she replied truthfully. If she had lied it would have made things worse. 

"Why dear? What's troubling you?" Sarira's face softened at the notion that her daughter might be ill.

"I might be ill, but it's more like I'm going through a crisis. Like the 'I'm going to live forever but I have no ambition' type of crisis." She adjusted her neck pillow in the tub and heated the water again to a comfortable temperature. Her mother crossed her arms and chewed on a clawed fingernail in thought. 

"Well that's certainly something I didn't expect. I hope it had nothing to do with how I raised you..." OH THE IRONY.

"I'm pretty sure it has plenty reason to do with how you raised me," Ophelia said evenly. There was no use in being short with her. There was a moment's silence between them. "Did you know," Ophelia began again, "That I nearly ran out of the Academy because I couldn't do my own summoning circle?" Her mother was silent. "The professor looked at me like I was crazy, explaining that all succubi took part in making circles during the rituals. You know why I couldn't do that simple task? You kept me in every night." More silence. Ophelia adjusted herself in the bathtub again, drawing her knees up to her chest and squeezing her kneecaps. 

It didn't give her the catharsis she had hoped for. But at least she said something. She couldn't be faulted for that. Her phone buzzed with a message from Midori, it was fifteen minutes until the exhibition was going to open. 

"I've got to go mom, I'll call you when I get some time," Ophelia swiped left to end the call. Lets hope that pixie dress and thigh high boots were a good selection. 

Arriving to the exhibition on time was a cinch. Portals were hella helpful for moments like these. She scanned the crowed entering a warehouse floor that had been renovated to an open studio to see if she had dressed appropriately. She sat hidden in the Mist that obscured her presence from regular humans. To an ordinary person she might have been a shadow or something you see in the corner of your eye. When she was sure of the situation she had arrived in, she seamlessly made herself appear. Nobody noticed, good.

She navigated the crowd with ease, slipping here and there among the warm bodies. Her special Sense working in overdrive, picking out which might be suitable energy sources for later. She met one man who seemed to be annoyed that he was there. Average looks, average hipster style, hella pretentious. Their eyes met and she blew him a kiss, subtle and obscured by her long sleeves and like a whisper it traveled through the crowd until it met its mark. It appeared as a glowing green kiss mark, tagging him for later use. If another succubus saw it, she knew to stay away. He hardly noticed her aside from initial eye contact. It was a typical tactic of some succubi to make themselves obscure, only to reveal their true natures to their targets later. 

"Oh thank god you're here!" Midori shook her away from her thoughts (this happened a lot lately), "We need you!" she gasped grabbing her by the hand.

"What for?" Ophelia was confused following behind the shorter woman.

"Our model didn't show up, we need you to take her place!"

"The fuck I am!" she feigned shock and slight apprehension as she was dragged behind a makeshift stage with a curtain drawn behind it.

"Too late, get naked!" Midori was insistent, pulling off her top in the process.

"Ughhhhh", Ophelia growled as she pulled the dress over her head and tossing it on the metal folding chair along with her bag. She was urged to leave her boots and black lace panties on by the rope artist who seemed to appear out of nowhere. Apparently it was a good look. 

Said artist was more stunning than Ophelia was prepared for. She almost took a step back when she saw him. Was he really human? She tested a kiss by disguising it as a yawn and...it stuck and glowed green! He was 100% human flesh and blood but seemed to have a low energy level. I expect nothing and I'm still let down. She mused.

In a moment's time she was introduced onstage. The artist asked both of them if they would consent to being tied up for viewing and photographing---something he really should've asked and explained earlier but fine. Midori enthusiastically consented, Ophelia matched it. She wasn't good at acting but she might have convinced most of the crowd that was too caught up in their bodies to notice their faces. He seemed to be more interested in Midori's body, namely her large breasts and asked Ophelia to stand aside.

Ophelia, nearly glad to have the attention thrown off of her, sashayed to the side of the stage and watched the events unfold. He started at her chest, carefully binding her arms behind her as well. Music started playing, which engaged the crowd more and built some interesting tension. By the ten minute mark the succubus had lost interest and was looking at the crowd for more targets. In order to not seem too disengaged she alternated between resting with her arms behind her head or carefully crossing them across her chest--not to appear modest, but to appear so unfazed by her own nudity that people were more attracted to the art of her form rather than just the sexuality of it. It mostly worked.

She spotted her first target in the crowd, seeming more invested than before. All eyes were on Midori now, who seemed to be enjoying the ropes more than earlier. Perhaps she did this often? 

"I'm almost through," the artist announced, his voice a bit raspy, as if he smoked a bit. Midori herself was suspended in a lovely vine of azure ropes digging into her skin, making her flesh plump out pleasantly. Her face appeared fairly ecstatic, bordering on orgasmic, Ophelia picked up on that fairly quickly. Her experience being bound the demon way was decidedly less orgasmic and more humiliating. Would this be the same experience?

"Isn't she beautiful ladies and gentlemen?" the artist announced as he stepped back with a flourish, showing off his living, breathing, work of art. The crowd erupted in cheers and modest applause, they knew the show wasn't over just yet. "Can I have Ophelia come forward please?" On cue she turned on her heel and made her way to the artist. He admired her form and smiled, "I know just what to do with you." She had to admit she liked the sound of that very much. 

He led her by the hand opposite of Midori and instructed her to stand at a marked spot. He pulled out reams of red rope that he planned to bind her with. Maybe she could have a little fun with him as he tied her? All she had to do was activate the kiss mark just a little. Only for a moment. 

The kiss of a succubus was more than a marking tool. It could be activated to stimulate a little bit of desire in stages. The first stage is a little bit of realization, a hint of lust. The heart rate would increase just a tad, barely noticeable. Desire was hinted at, but not completely unleashed. It could be considered a stirring, something like the initial impact of a Cupid's Arrow---which were dangerous weapons. The second stage was visible lust. Pupil dilation, desire, heart rate increase again, absolute attraction with one-track in mind. At this point she would be able to successfully take him home through a portal without him noticing. If she wanted to activate it a fourth time it would send him to the pre-Bliss stage. Not necessary, but it brought out amazing affects.

At some point she stopped paying attention to the crowd and focused on her slowly limiting mobility. She could sense some of his thoughts since the kiss was activated. She could tell that he wanted to suck on her nipples and feel up her ass, but his professionalism wasn't allowing him to make those thoughts known. She could also tell that he was perplexed by his sudden peak in desire since he had done this frequently and he felt he should be used to it. The knowledge made her grin on the inside. On the outside she was stoic and focused. 

Her eyes traveled downward to see that he had bound her legs but not her arms yet. What was going to happen next? Her arms were bound in a harness that went across her chest and with a careful maneuver she was levitated off the ground. Oh. That's what happened. Her body was curved as if she were in a reverse hammock, belly to the floor. Her locs fell out of their bun onto the floor. Perhaps that added artistic value? She was vaguely aware of the way one of her legs extended outward and her other one curved inward just so.

The crowd was fully engaged, cheering and snapping pictures. A few professional photographers came up and took some exposures for their portfolios. She heard in passing that the artist himself was starting a phonebook and doing shows at the same time. This lasted about fifteen minutes total. Another five minutes passed when he came back around to adjust the work into a new piece. Instead of them being suspended, they were able to stand on their own two feet, getting used to gravity and having blood recirculate back into their systems. Ophelia noted that while his technique was good, he still needed to work on making sure they didn't lose circulation. It wouldn't affect her, but Midori would suffer the worst of it. 

She now stood on her own two feet, well, mostly. One of her legs was still in the air, curved above her spine in such a way she looked as if she was dancing. Her nipples were cold and stood out more than she liked being aware of. Did this guy not know that nudity was boring? He could've made things more interesting with costumes or something. Perhaps he was too caught up in his own ideas to think outside his own box he made. More pictures were taken. She closed her eyes and wondered how she'd get him home that night. It shouldn't be too hard. He could make excuses. She preferred that no one see them leave together. It would be too much of a hassle if that occurred. 

By the time another hour passed her body had full circulation. She was fully dressed, snacking on sushi rolls, and making the most of what was left of the not-so-great champagne and sake. Why did people always think that having sushi automatically made them fancy? Ophelia sat on a metal folding chair stuffing her mouth with a roll in one hand and flute glass with the other; hoping all the while nobody would notice a bottle of champagne missing from the cooler where she had stolen it from. It was nice and tucked away in her messenger bag. Good for multiple reasons. 

The time had almost reached midnight and people were still around. The artist had his ropes put away and locked in his car. He was making his rounds to other people, hoping to get endorsements or more models. Maybe book a session or two. Ophelia spotted him chatting with Raul and Sergio, but he seemed to be getting ready to wind down for the evening. How should she steal him away? Succubus essence or another kiss? Multiple kisses increased attraction and made her essence waft more than just letting it out bit by bit. She blew him another one, being out of sight allowed her to do it without much concern for who saw her. 

She had landed another hit and it was working. He excused himself and made his way toward her even though she wasn't in his line of sight. Nobody else noticed.

"Hey, wanna get out of here?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly at the weight of his desire.

 

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