Lucy became dimly aware of the room around him: the cool sheets beneath him, the rumpled pillow behind his head, even the breeze against his skin. He’d left the window open in hopes that the fresh air would help his newfound companion’s recovery. Moonlight cast faint silver-blue beams at a low, intimate angle, casting long shadows as lightless as a deep forest. A faint wet sound he couldn’t identify eased in and out of his sensory horizon.

The bed next to him was empty but he wasn’t awake enough yet to process what that meant. It felt like he’d fallen asleep drinking; his head was so foggy.

The breeze was chilly; goosebumps rippled up his arms as a lingering gust licked his flesh with a wide, cold tongue. He shivered and pulled his arm under the quilt that covered him. It was only then that he realized just how warm it was under the blanket; his fingers felt like icicles against his belly. He realized something was weighing on his legs; he found he couldn’t move anything below his waist.

Fear shot through him and he frantically tugged at the blanket, throwing it back with a groggy cry of panic.

A crimson hand with long, slender fingers caught the quilt before it fell off the bed and held it up. Lucy’s eyes followed the arm’s contours down to the woman it belonged to: the young woman he’d found on his doorstep three days ago. She’d changed.

Even in the dim moonlight, her skin was a blazing, blood red. Her form was no longer frail, but full, muscular and strong. Her shoulders were delightfully broad and her arms taught with flexible muscle. Her hair was as white as the moon, and from her head sprouted two curved, ebony horns that were bobbing up and down in a rhythm so regular one could have used it to tell time. For the first time since waking, Lucy identified the odd wet sound he’d heard.

He looked on in shock as the woman who had not regained consciousness for three days since being brought in and carefully given water and broth and kept warm and safe, who had completely transformed, rhythmically slid purple lips up and down his manhood. He couldn’t feel anything below his waist. Her free hand was dimpling the muscles of his left thigh with a strong, clawed grip, and a tongue that was not-at-all human had coiled itself around his cock and trailed its forked tip down between his balls. A generous curtain of shining drool bathed his length, and his tip never emerged from the mouth that worked it.

Up.

Down.

Slrrrp, smckk, gluurrppghh.

Long lashes fluttered open and golden eyes found his. Her irises flickered, lit from within, radiant fields of flame bisected by vertical slits of abyssal black. She blinked at him, as if realizing he was there for the first time. Indifference melted into surprise, and the tongue coiling around him retreated like a serpent, slithering up and off. Her purple lips, swollen and shining, finally released his tip with a soft smack. It was swollen and throbbing visibly, ruddy with intense lust. Still, Lucy felt nothing.

The woman’s tongue slid back into her mouth, emerging once more to lick her lips in a languid, lazy gesture that spoke of a hunger that would never, ever be sated. Her cheeks dimpled with a sincere smile, and she spoke in a voice as smooth as silk and as soft as snowfall.

“I’m so sorry, mister. I was just so hungry, and you kept me safe for so long, and I figured you wouldn’t miss a little seed…”

“I c-can’t feel my legs.” Lucy responded weakly, panicking. He couldn’t escape. The way her lips idly curled into a hungry smile like some predator cat between her words scared him. He struggled to retain his composure as he watched his cock throb without feeling it.

Her eyes crinkled with what seemed like genuine concern, and she pulled the blanket back, revealing her entire form. Every inch of her visible skin was blood-red. Shadows hid many details. “Oh! Of course! Forgive me. I didn’t want to wake you… I thought—I thought the numbing would help. Here.”

A dark, slender shadow slithered into the light. At its tip, a stinger like a scorpion’s melted into a smooth, flexible, prehensile tail that curled to rest on his stomach and flicked back and forth like a cat’s. He felt its soft warmth below his belly button. With each beat of his heart, he felt more of its weight against him, lower and lower. He inhaled sharply as pins and needles shot down his legs and his muscles seized and twitched without his control.

“Another minute or two and you’ll be fine, promise.” She said, expression chipper. “And before I forget, thank you for taking me in.”

“Who are you?” Lucy asked, voice breaking. Sensation was rapidly returning to his cock and the fires of lust had been stoked to the extreme. The gleam of saliva over him belied the surreal chill that washed over him in the breeze, causing him to twitch straight and swell momentarily. The movement caught the woman’s eye, and she turned her full attention back to his member.

That dark tongue slithered past her lips and circled them, leaving them gleaming wet. When she spoke, her tone was casual and lighthearted, but her slit-like pupils tracked every motion of his cock as it bobbed with each thundering beat of his his heart, like a cat might watch a mouse scamper away from death. “My whole name needs a tongue like mine to pronounce,” she replied, squeezing his thigh without seeming to realize it. She was slowly leaning forward, getting closer to his flesh.

He could feel her warm breath against his wet manhood and couldn’t completely silence his groan, an involuntary sound forced from his lungs by the strength which which his muscles tensed and forced his cock to flinch.

“You can call me Viri.” She said, quietly, as if talking to his cock. Her eyes were nearly crossed she was so close now. “I’m so hungry, mister. We can talk more after I eat, okay? I promise it won’t hurt. In fact… it’s going to feel better than anything. Is that… is that okay?”

Lucy swallowed hard. Her tongue was lolling out of her mouth, drool beading along its length as it dangled inches away from his flesh. His whole body was on fire. His thoughts were scattered, it was so hard to focus. He needed release. He’d do anything for it. He might go insane without it.

”… Yes.”

TL;DR Decent person tries to help a stranger; turns out that stranger is a succubus. Succubus wakes up hungry. Was eating without asking, because survival, but now tries to be polite. Is, frankly, too hungry to really care about consent, yet. Still, the prey in this scenario is ultimately willing. Mild implication of a generic fantasy setting, open to all kinds. As always, world-building and character development are extremely welcome.

What’s above is a sample and does not have to be part of a story or roleplay we construct together. All elements are up for discussion, including the gender of Lucy and the type of person or being they are. So too is the succubus, Viri. Her appearance and manner are flexible, though I prefer a vaguely feline and predatory attitude and revel in a hungry sexivore. (Like herbivore, carnivore, or herbivore, but with sex? Sexivore? Voresly. Not actually Vore. Strangers.)

I’m open to playing a ‘prey’ character of any sex or gender, but would like to play across from a female or nonbinary succubus rather than, for example, a masculine or androgynous incubus. In most of my conceptions, succubi consume while incubi, well, impregnate. I’d like Lucy to be food, at least in a spiritual or metaphysical sense. No lasting harm intended or desired.

Elements of transformation and magic are welcome, as are elements of mind-altering substances like aphrodisiac saliva, etc., and none are required. This could be as simple as a steamy oral scene and as robust as a story of two individuals and their journey in a world of our creation. I’m easy. Whimsical. Dazzling and too-much^TM in equal measure.

Come say hello! We can discuss how this might continue, or jump on in and write a continuation or revision as you like. As long as this post exists, replies are welcome. Slide into these DMs. They’re hungry.

Satanther