I’ve often wondered if I can write something that’s a bit of a suspense/action-adventure sort of thing with a side order of erotica. This might not be all that I think it can be, but I’m going to take a try at this and see what mischief I can get some of the Realm into…
The names of the Succubi and Incubi have not been changed to protect the horny…
Sparkly Horn Horror
One of the places in the Realm that seems somewhat out-of-place is the Realm Hospital—or, as some refer to it, “The Nutcracker Suite.” The hospital itself is usually a quiet place, for there aren’t that many of the Realm that have need of the services there. Being who and what the inhabitants of the Realm are, they just don’t really have a need for the hospital in the first place.
At least that is what the young think. Those who have long memories, or who know their Realm history, are very aware of why the hospital exists.
It is set in a section of the Realm that is surrounded by a series of low hills, which seem like they both surround the hospital and protect it at the same time. Considering that the site was the original location of the first Realm Hospital, during and after some of the most violent moments in succubi history, the location, and how it seems like a bastion, is very apt.
Even though the hospital isn’t used much, Tera had seen to it that it had been rebuilt many times over the years, always keeping pace with the needs of this Realm and those beyond. Within the walls, there are enough magical, medical, and technical forms of help available to handle just about any problem. While it is true that those of the Realm never really need hospitalization, there are occasions when others visit the Realm and need some assistance. The staff is small, really more appropriate for a clinic, but all very dedicated to their craft.
And the one that runs the hospital? Her name is Florence—no relation and, if you ask, be prepared for her to give you an “exam” you’ll never forget. On one bright sunny day in the Realm, Florence, who is one of the blue-tailed Succubi, was busy giving one particular incubi a thorough examination …oral and otherwise … that had been going on for a few hours.
Blue-tails are very talented in oral … among other things.
She had just finished off her oral exam of Adam, an intern in his fourth decade of service in the hospital, and was just about to allow him to give her what she had referred to as a “breast exam” with the member she had just orally examined, when an alarm sounded interrupting them. Unashamedly, Florence stood up and crossed the floor of the nursing station they were using; in truth, it was the one which was just the right height for her to bend over and be comfortable when she needed to be probed in an anal sort of way. Adam pulled on his scrubs—which didn’t do anything to hide the bulge he sported from her examination—“What’s going on?”
Florence scanned the display as she pulled her own scrubs on: “Someone’s been portalled into the isolation ward. No details. Room one.”
The walk was a lonely one for the pair. The staff were off for the day as all of the patients had been released; there had been only three, but, considering that over the past six months there hadn’t been any, this was ‘busy’ for the hospital. One patient felt he had to try out some lube that was rated only for incubi, and he wasn’t. Another had an awful sunburn from laying out too long while having fun doing what she called research on the mating habits of the Realm—Florence idly had wondered about which world was her chosen venue for that video. The last was one of the succubi who was a hypochondriac, though Florence had quickly figured out that she was there because she was, in fact, a pink tail with a doctor fetish that needed to be scratched.
The succubi physician and the incubi intern passed through the doors that marked the isolation ward and found themselves looking into a room where a purple-tailed succubi was frantically humping a pillow she had taken from the bed in the room, moaning in pleasure, sweat pouring off her, and something sparkling on her skin.
Florence was taken aback by the scene: “Deb?”
Adam looked at her: “Someone you know?”
“Um, Deborah … old friend … really good old friend.”
Adam leered a bit … he was that kind of Incubi: “As in sharing … old friend?”
She shot daggers at him with her eyes: “No. She might be a purple tail, but she is more interested in history than running around and fucking her brains out. I have always respected her for that. She made me think about what I wanted to do. I owe her.”
Adam was looking back into the room: “So, this isn’t normal.”
“No. it isn’t.” Florence pushed the intercom button: “Deb? It’s Flora. Can you hear me?”
Deb responded by standing up and pressing her naked form against the glass, her breasts squeezing against it, her body shivering at the cold, while she continued to hump the pillow between her legs, her eyes rolling up, only the whites showing: “mmmm … Hiya, Flora … Cum on in. My pussy’s so fucking wet … If … if you eat me out, I’ll do the … the same for ya … mmm …” As those last words came out with a gasp, Deb slid down the glass and then disappeared out of sight.
Florence didn’t know what to say or do at that moment. This was totally out of character for her old friend. “Why is she in there?”
Adam was looking over a screen with vital signs on it: “Considering that her temperature is way up, she’s pumping out pheromones that could make a dragon hard for a year, I’m not surprised.” He looked at his superior: “Masks and gowns?”
She nodded: “Masks and gowns.”
They opened the door a short time later, as prepared as they thought they needed to be. Deborah had a fever or something. She wasn’t a threat, only oversexed. Still, they weren’t prepared for what happened next: before they could react, Deborah came running out of the room and shoved Florence aside, intent on getting to Adam.
Faster than Florence could recover from being shoved against the corner of the doorway and race to Adam’s aid, Deb had ripped Adam’s suit open, fished out his cock and was humping him madly. Adam, still hard from the earlier exam, wasn’t exactly resisting her. Pushing herself up, Florence tried to pull Deb off him, but, during the struggle to do so, Deb tore off her mask and kissed her … deeply. She felt Deb’s tongue as it began to press past her lips, seeking Florence’s own. Or at least she tried to, but then something in the air made Florence sneeze, and Deb recoiled in surprise before turning her attention back to the intern, completely forgetting about her old friend.
Adam tried to untangled himself from Deb, but her strength was surprising, and, as he fought to be free of her he groaned: “Get the hell out of here. Find out what’s going on! I’ll … I’ll …” The gasp he made as Deb’s tail entwined itself with his announced the edge of him losing control and just going along with what Deb wanted to do: “Oh, fuck! I’ll keep her busy! GO!”
Florence scrambled to her feet, ran out the main doors of the isolation ward, and then slammed her fist into the big red panic button beside the door. The alarms and lights went off in the next moment, the doors locking tight and sealing both Adam and Deb inside. In spite of that, Florence was sure that she could hear them screwing their brains out on the other side of the door. She ran down the empty hallways, cursing that the wards that were in the very fabric of the hospital were designed to prevent the creation of outbound portals, then, in the next moment thanking them for being there. Whatever was affecting Deb, and now likely Adam, was something that had to be kept out of the Realm no matter the cost.
Skidding around a corner, she came to her office door and barged inside. As the isolation ward was now sealed, the protocols, as she well knew, would start locking the outside doors first, then restrict communications with the rest of the Realm, so that the only place to do so was in her office.
She looked at her office, the walls covered in books, texts, scrolls. She had prided herself in knowing more about medicine than anyone else in the Realm. The old saying of pride coming before a fall echoed in her thoughts as she made for her desk. In the past, Florence had to rely on her small library of medical and magic books in order to determine what malady had befallen someone. Sometimes, this took ages and, over a lemonade with one of the Realm’s librarians—an amazingly smart and helpful yellow tail named Miriam to whom Tera had referred Florence, she would come up with a solution that solved one research problem, but gave her another instead.
Now she could find an answer in mere moments by speaking with her assistant: “John, we have a problem.”
A shimmering tube of light appeared a few feet away and the image of a bespectacled incubus with blue horns and tail came into view. He appeared to be slightly older than Florence, with an attitude to match. “A problem? You must be most specific. Specificity is a trait I welcome.”
An assistant with attitude … just what she needed. “Shut up, John. I haven’t got time to deal with your cheek right now. Access patient background records for Deborah; she’s in isolation. Do a complete scan—everything. There’s something desperately wrong with her. Adam’s in there, too. Scan him, as well.”
He seemed to freeze in place and then an arc of energy flowed over his body, revealing that he was not, in fact, one of the Incubi. He was a projection from one of the things that Miriam had called an artificial intelligence interface. John was not a real being per sé, but existed in a computer that had been installed in the hospital. He held all of the medical information that was contained in Florence’s own medical library, the hospital’s larger one, and, as well, all that which had been digitized from the Realm’s Library by the staff there. There were still, as well she knew, a few wings to be added to John’s knowledge, but her hope was that he would at least know what they were dealing with, if not the cure for it.
John interrupted her thoughts: “Florence, I have a theory.”
“Only a theory? Need some facts, John. Deb’s not normal by any means. She’ll fuck anything in sight and that’s getting worse by the moment.”
“Has anyone else come into contact with her?”
Florence thought, then replied: “She appeared in the isolation ward, portalled directly into it. Looked like she was coming home and was redirected.”
“So you have no idea if she has or has not?”
She shook her head, then stopped: “I have. Didn’t really have a choice. Adam was helping me restrain her. He’s with her at the moment. He pushed me out of the room before closing the door. No one else has. The rest of the staff aren’t here today.”
John looked … worried … something that Florence had never seen before: “I am locking down the hospital and informing the Queen. No one is to be allowed in or out of here.”
As the alarm began to sound in the distance, and Florence heard the doors to the outside Realm closing, she called out to him: “John, tell me what the hell is going on!”
“The most likely candidate is a disease that was last seen in the time just after your kind’s battle to be independent from Light and Dark. The medical term is ‘anima denigration’: ‘Soul Blackening;’ known colloquially as ‘Sparkly Horn Disease.’”
She frowned as she mulled over the words: “Never heard of it, John.”
“It was only seen once, as I noted. Do pay attention Florence, this is important.”
“Get on with it, egghead.”
John nodded: “Better. Keep your focus, Florence. The slang term was coined from the initial signs of infection, that being the affected succubi or incubi having a shimmering, sparkling dust appearing on their horns. The timeframe from this appearing to complications is timed in a matter of hours. The dust will be the same colour as the infected’s own horns. Over time physical and mental changes occur.”
Florence swallowed, her tail moving slowly behind her: “How long until it is infectious?”
John removed his glasses, folding them up and putting them into one hand: “Deborah appears to be infectious at this time. The obvious signs are her eyes: they are the same colour as her tail, which they were not before. Her need to, as you say, ‘fuck anything in sight’ is the other. That is how transmission of the disease occurs. Sexual activity shakes the dust loose, it falls upon the sexual partner.”
She remembered the kiss she shared with Deborah and the last thing she saw as the door closed behind her trapping Adam with her. Deb straddling Adam and screaming as they fucked. She could almost hear the moans from the two of them through the walls.
Reflexively she brushed her hand through her hair and felt something in between her fingers. Looking at them she could see, just barely, some fine grains of blue sand. “Fine; what’s the cure to this?”
John furrowed his brow: “I have no records of a cure. That data has not been imparted to my memory core.”
“Great … even better.” She knew she was going to regret the next thing she said: “I have to assume Adam in infected. I have to be as well.”
“The assumption about Adam is correct. His scans show evidence. Being in direct contact with Deborah will speed up the infection.”
Florence rubbed her chin: “What are my chances?”
“Scanning. Stand by.”
It was the longest three minutes of her life.
“Assuming you do not come into contact with either, you have approximately six hours before the need for intercourse overcomes your ability to think clearly. You will be infectious in two hours. One hour beyond that your physical changes will be complete, but you will still have your intelligence. Over the following three hours your mind will turn towards your most base instincts until that is all that you will be able to think about.”
She shuddered at the thought. The nickname of ‘Ball Breaker’ came to her and she shook her head. If she wasn’t breaking balls before, clearly she was going to be. “Show me what you have at my desk. Get Miriam at the Realm Library. If she’s busy, tell her it’s a medical emergency.”
As John made the call, Florence sat down and pushed the pile of papers off her desk, not caring that they tumbled into a heap beside it. The glass top shimmered and a series of articles, papers, and highlighted passages about what she was facing appeared there.
Miriam’s voice came out of the air, a giggle in her voice: “Florence? A medical emergency? Did someone use too much lube or something?”
“No joke; got a huge problem. John’s sending you a file with the details. I need you to do research for me.”
When Miriam’s voice came back, she wasn’t giggling anymore: “That’s a legend; has to be. What evidence do you have?”
“I have Deborah with sparkling horns fucking my intern, Adam, senseless in the isolation ward. And his horns are sparkling now, as well.” Florence was silent for a moment: “Miram … I found some dust in Deborah’s colour on me. John’s confirmed that this … disease … seems to be what it looks like. We’re looking at something we haven’t dealt with in eons. There’s no cure in the information John has.”
She heard Miriam calling out: “Get Tera, get the staff in here. Everyone. I want everyone in the Library in the next twenty minutes!”
“John’s told Tera, she’s …”
The next voice that Florence heard made her wince: “I’m here, Florence.”
It was Tera … of course it was. She always managed to be where she was needed. Florence always thought that was a neat ability to have.
“Where are you?”
“I just came into Miriam’s office.”
Florence had a small hope and asked: “What do you know about this … thing?”
Tera’s voice seemed far away as she spoke, Florence was glad she didn’t have to see her at that moment: “My parents had to deal with this. It was an attempt to bring our kind to heel, to obey. It changed many before they figured out how to stop it.”
Not answer or cure, but there as some hope at least. Better than nothing. “Well, it’s back. Round Two has started. At least Deb wound up here instead of running through the Realm.”
“One small gift. There’s a reason why the paths to our Realm are as they are. Florence, when this first appeared, I was told that many were lost, or … worse. But we are not sacrificing the three of you.”
“Don’t thank me until and unless we stop it. What it turns you into is something you won’t enjoy. And leaving you like that would not be anything you would be thankful for. What do you want us to do? You are the doctor. How do we help you?”
Florence steepled her fingers: “We need a cure. If not a cure, then I need to know what information the Realm has on this. As long as I can think, I can work on an answer, or at least get a start on one for someone else to work on.”
Miriam’s voice returned: “Tera’s gone. She went to tell the others where to search. She said for me to stay here in case you think of something or need something.”
Florence’s attention shifted: “John, have you informed the other staff about what is going on?”
Strangely, as she had never seen John doing it before, she watched him pacing in her office. It reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t put her finger on who it was at that moment. “The staff has been notified. They are going to the library to assist. Several are waiting outside for permission to enter.”
Florence was horrified: “John!”
He stopped pacing and regarded her. The look he gave her, sitting there behind her desk, was that of a lecturer telling a dimwitted student how dimwitted they were: “The three laws are in effect. No one will be coming in.”
She pressed a glowing red marker on her desk, putting Miriam on mute: “What happens if we don’t find a cure, John?”
The look he had was a resigned one: “Burn all bridges to the Realm. Isolate the three of you. For however long it takes until …”
He didn’t finish the sentence, which, again, was odd as he always had in the past. But she could take an educated guess about what the rest of the sentence was. Pressing the marker again, she continued speaking to Miriam: “Find me a cure: some info, tea leaves, a rolled-up parchment with a good apple pie recipe that cures this. Find something, Miriam … and soon. You have three hours. After that, I don’t know how long I am going to of use to anyone.”
“I’ll be here. Not going anywhere.”
Florence returned to the screen in front of her and continued to read. John remained active nearby, but said nothing. Normally, she would berate him for being there, but, for the first time in her life, Florence didn’t have anything witty to say. She just focused more than ever on trying to find a solution to what was now the most important thing in her world.
A short time later, she barely paid attention as her hand scratched the base of one of her horns. A moment later and she stared at the glass surface of her desk seeing the blue flakes of dust there. She pushed away from the desk and created a mirror in her hands which she looked into in horror. Her blue horns were starting to sparkle.
The clock was ticking …