This is the continuing story of the Succubi called Storm Clouds…
Chapter 19 editing this week… Coming up, where does Tom go?
Storm Clouds 116
“Step back, Camilla. I can’t let you hurt her.”
The answer to that came in a cruel smile and the words, “I haven’t hurt her yet, Dick. Oh, she wants it and loves it, though. She has a fantasy of having her ass whipped until she can’t sit down for a week. You know that dream makes her dripping wet every night?”
Tom watched as Camilla, in Ginger’s form, raised her right hand toward the ceiling and a long black riding crop appeared there.
“Camilla, stop. Think about what you’re doing. This isn’t you.”
“Oh, but it’s her.”
The whip came down hard on Ginger’s rear and a long red mark was left behind on it … but Ginger herself didn’t say a word. Not one. Tom was, to be blunt, uncomfortable with all of this. The sex part of it didn’t bother him, but the abuse? That was going against what he believed in.
“You’re going to have to stop, Camilla.”
“No. This is what she wants, Dick. Not what I or you want. Now, go and have a drink from the office bar or read a paper or watch, or wait outside. I don’t care because she doesn’t. All she knows is that the one person she can submit to is debasing her and making her be the person she is inside. A meek little fucktoy that needs a firm hand to guide her.”
Tom wasn’t buying it and he moved towards Camilla, “Sorry, but you aren’t going to do this.” Tom didn’t want to pull his gun and use it on her. That was a last ditch resort as far as he was concerned. He closed the distance and then took hold of Camilla’s wrist, stopping her from using the whip again.
She looked up at him and her eyes glowed green, “Thomas, please, trust me on this. This is the fastest way to get what we need from her. Don’t interfere with what you see.”
Tom’s grip became a little firmer, “Abusing people is wrong, Camilla.”
“It is. But then she isn’t a person right now, and so she doesn’t qualify. Would you like to hear it from her own lips? Would that make it acceptable, then?”
Ginger’s voice was wrapped in need as she begged, “Slut has been a bad girl. She needs to be punished. Mistress has to punish Slut.”
“That makes it worse.”
Camilla’s tail wrapped itself around Ginger’s neck and tugged her close to one side, pushing Tom slightly as she moved. She took hold of Ginger’s hair again and pulled her face to look up at her, “Good Slut. You can lick my shoes.”
There was no delay from when Camilla let go and Ginger was on her hands and knees doing exactly that and mewling in pleasure from it.
Tom’s disgust with the whole situation came to a boil, and he shoved Camilla’s hand away from him. He turned away from the scene and moved towards the door, pausing there as he gripped the door handle, “Tell me something, Camilla. Is this what Succubi do? Hurt and harm others? Are you going to suck away her soul next and kill her?”
To his surprise Camilla answered that with, “There is a difference between what you see and what there is, Tom. Look back.”
He did, and he saw Camilla as he had always known her, sitting on the chair, but with Ginger still on the floor in front of her degrading herself. Camilla’s tail was wrapped around Ginger’s neck directing her movements.
“If someone gave you your heart’s desire, wouldn’t you take advantage of it? This is what she wants, Thomas, and neither you nor I have the right to judge her. She needs this, has needed it for some time now. She’ll gladly answer anything for this to happen without hesitation.”
“I don’t like this, Camilla. Tell me something: do you like it?”
Camilla didn’t hesitate, “No. But that doesn’t matter, does it? Some sacrifices have to be made to get the answers we need.”
Then the scene shifted again to what it had been moments before, a slave groveling at the feet of a cruel Mistress.
“Get the point, Dick?”
Tom nodded slightly–“Still doesn’t mean that I have to like it”–and left the office, shutting the door behind him.
Camilla was silent for a time after Tom left. It was difficult to explain to humans the world that she lived in. Tom had managed to accept most of it, but this part of being a Succubi or an Incubi, the part of it where realities shifted and sometimes not for the best, was a problem. The problem was in getting too involved in the fantasy and having that stay with you when the moment was gone. Camilla knew already that she was going to feel dirty after it was all over, but she tempered that disgust with the knowledge that it might, just might, get her the answers she needed.
She rubbed her free hand over the mark on Ginger’s ass, “Now, you worthless slut, you will answer every one of the questions asked. For every one you answer truthfully, I will reward you with another cropping that you need so badly … And, if you are very good, I’ll let you finally cum like the needful cunt you are.”
Her hand came down hard, “Understood?”
The answer was just above a whisper and was filled with need: “Yesssss, Missstresss.”
Camila held the crop in the air and began asking her questions.
“What do you know of the Succubi?“