May 2nd, 2013, marked the 2000th post on A Succubi’s Tale. I have to admit that I really never believed that I would manage to do all that I have here on the Tale and on Succubus.net as a whole.
I am, so I am told, up to my tail is problems most of the time, but my Succubi Queen self has her moments as well. But the thing that we both need to remember is that while we both have problems, we also have family and friends that care about us…
One of the friends I hold dear is someone I know only as DC… A little while ago, he made a comment to me that stuck in my mind…
He said: i guess the problems of succubi queens and wannabe evil geniuses arent that far apart.
And that thought about problems made this story appear today…
It has been said that, to understand the problems of another, one has to accept that they have their own issues to deal with. For most of us, they are the normal, everyday sorts of things that everyone must overcome, like the car running out of gas or the dog getting off its leash and running through the neighbor’s prize petunias. But, for some, the problems are things that we might have a hard time wrapping our thoughts around, never mind trying to solve their problems.
In one case, a certain mad scientist—though calling them mad, as a rule, would not be a wise thing to do in their presence—might just happen to have a problem accidentally turning a valuable assistant into an airhead … or a bimbo (it depends on which term you prefer). In another case, a problem might be some ill-informed mages and wizards making some very incorrect assumptions and summoning a certain Succubi Queen to do their bidding … over and over again (which does, trust me, get stale very quickly).
In either case, the two beings would be … miffed, shall we say … with the problems that they must deal with, both the little ones and the larger ones. In this case, in that irritation over what they each called their “problems,” a kind of friendship formed over time …
Because, sometimes, the universe works in mysterious ways.
His name was DC, and yes, he had heard all of the AC/DC jokes you can possibly imagine, so we won’t go there. At one point he had been forced to look for a new place to build his laboratory when the old one blew up and discovered that his “mad scientist insurance” plan would be sky high if he built another one in the middle of a city … or, for that matter, just about anywhere on the planet where there was civilization within fifty miles. So he had to settle for something that was a bit more low rent and out of the way.
And that meant all kinds of trouble.
The place he found was quite literally next-door to the middle of nowhere. You could see nowhere from the top floor of the Victorian mansion that now held every kind of technology imaginable. There was every scientific means available to do just about anything anyone could think of. But there was a problem: none of it worked. Well, it did work, but it didn’t work the way it was supposed to.
Then came the next problem, though not really a problem for a mad scientist: the weather; rain … thunder … lightning … cats and dogs falling from the skies (no, seriously, it happened like clockwork every third Wednesday of the month). Think stereotypical mad scientist lair and double the stereotypical lousy weather, and you’d be fairly close.
Remember that I mentioned that he had a problem with his assistant turning into kind of a bimbo? Her name was Ivana. She was smart, talented, and knew her way around a test lab like no one else. And that’s where things went wrong.
“Awwww … Com’ on, Doc! I’m gettin’ boooooored!”
This was the refrain that he had been hearing for the past month … or two … or was it three? To be honest, he wasn’t really sure, because it happened so gradually. Well, if he had been paying attention to what was going on, he would have noticed the loud explosion from her lab and the pink fluffy clouds that came out from under the door followed by giggling.
Of course he didn’t. He was more interested in using the new megalaser that he had finished that morning to try to write his name into the surface of the moon. He should have had a clue when her hair turned blonde. Or when she kept twirling her finger in her hair. Or how her body went from “Professor” to “Porn Star” overnight. Or even when she punctuated every sentence with “Like, fer sure!” Or even her sudden interest in researching … sex … lots of sex … more sex than honestly was normal for a dozen bunny girls.
No, the first clue he actually got that he might have a problem was when the doorbell rang out announcing that someone was at the door … and Ivana was … indisposed. He cold tell from the moaning that was coming from her lab. And he was right in the middle of changing the flux capacitor in his latest invention, too.
Unhappy about this, he stormed from his lab and marched to the front door, intending to tell whomever it was to get lost by visiting the middle of nowhere. Upon opening it, the words didn’t quite make it out as he realized who was standing there.
Blocking out most of the rain … well, actually standing there clutching an umbrella and wearing a red raincoat and knee high boots was Tera, the wind buffeting her around and the rain doing awful things to her hair. She wasn’t mad; more miffed than anything else that she had been off in her bampfing by about a quarter mile. More so that she thought it would be a better idea to walk that distance as it wasn’t that bad out.
She wouldn’t be making that mistake twice.
“Hi, Doc … Mind if I come in?”
“Tera? What are you doing here?”
“I sent you messages that I was coming.”
“Never got them.”
“‘Puter blew up.”
“Out of paper.”
“Lines are down.”
“Lost my phone somewhere.”
“Postman went postal.”
“Road’s too bad.”
“You have seen the weather, right?”
“Doc, why exactly do you live here, anyway?”
“Oh, the peace and quiet, mostly.”
“Actually, it’s the lower insurance rates.”
“Okay, I can see that.”
They looked at each other for a long moment, then Tera continued: “So … may I come in? Standing out here isn’t a load of fun, Doc. I’m getting wet in places that I don’t normally do.”
“Oh! Sorry! Please, do come in!”
She stepped past him and folded up her umbrella, setting it next to a pile of old newspapers that seemed not to have been read.
“I see the papers come through.”
“The paperboy is very persuasive. Both in delivery and getting paid.”
“I’ll see about getting a front page headline next time. How about ‘Doc is warned! Tera is coming! Film at eleven!”
Slipping off her now well and truly moist jacket and then pulling off her boots, which she turned over and poured the water out of, she shook her head and smiled wistfully.
“At least these aren’t my favorite boots … or jacket … or …”
“I’m not mad at you, Doc. And this is nothing that a bit of magic can’t …”
Tera raised her hand and began to snap her fingers when she saw the look of terror in the Doc’s eyes, which made her pause, and then she put her hand over her lips.
“Right. Almost forgot.”
It had been completely by accident that Tera had bampfed into one of the Doc’s earlier labs and caused a massive short that burned out every piece of equipment that he owned. At least the insurance company had a rider for “Act of Tera” in their tech policies covering that. Or it did after Tera had … ummmm … convinced the insurance adjuster that it did.
“Thank you. I’m working on something and I’d like it to survive to completion.”
“Of course. I’ll be fine. It’s not like I can borrow something from Ivana to …”
The Doc had winced.
“Ivana’s … changed, some.”
“Doc, you didn’t …”
“No! Absolutely not! It wasn’t my fault! You can’t prove anything!”
Tera smiled, “Doc … it’s me. Relax. I mean, how bad can it possibly …”
The low scream of Ivana cumming put paid to that question and Tera rubbed the bridge of her nose with a finger.
“She’s …” He mimed holding breasts in his hands and looked uncomfortable.
“Okay. At least there’s a chance that she’ll have something that will stretch …”
It turned out that she did, but it took about two hours before Tera walked into the Doc’s lab wearing a black latex miniskirt number with thigh-high boots and carrying a crop in one hand, her tail twisted in the shape of a question mark behind her.
He didn’t look up from the bench he was working at; “Yes?”
“Porn Star is kind of an understatement.”
“Sure. Anyway … might be a good idea to help her scratch that itch now and again.”
He looked up at her oddly. “I’ve got experiments to check on and data to collate. I haven’t got the time and besides …” he paused while Ivanna stumbled past mumbling, moaning, and being quite nude took his attention. Then he continued: “She’s quite good at occupying herself.”
“Doc. if I could use my magic right now, I could teleport this entire building three dimensions to the right from the energy she’s giving off. She’s waaaaay oversexed.”
He seemed to stare off into space, “You know, that might make for a great power source.”
She walked over to him and waved the crop in front of his eyes, “Doc? Focus, please? This isn’t good.”
“Hot sauce on ice cream is.”
“You have weird tastes, Doc.”
Tera looked at the crop, shrugged, and then set it on the table where the Doc was working. He was hunched over something—she couldn’t tell what it was, exactly, but there was a small mountain of parts surrounding him. “So, what’s got your attention, Doc? New kind of mind control device? Better television remote? Ultimate spill picker-upper?”
The Doc had an odd smile: “Oh, nothing like that. I did all of those last month. Sold them to that Sham-Whatever guy. “
“Doc, you didn’t.”
“He seemed okay.”
Tera shrugged as she looked around, “Well that explains why, when he’s on, no one can change the channel. Or help from buying one of those …” She stopped in mid-sentence because she noticed, off against the back wall of the lab, a stack of shipping containers marked “Sham!”… a hell of a lot of them.
Doc noticed where Tera was looking, “Ivanna watches a lot of television now. Soaps mostly, and …”
“Doc, you didn’t notice what she likes to wear now do you?”
“I’m not into fashion.”
“Well I am. She’s got a fetish to wear things made of that stuff.”
He looked slightly concerned, which, for Doc, meant one eyebrow raised just a bit: “What’s the worst that could happen?”
The appearance of Ivanna at the door to the lab carrying a portable laser, her eyes glazed over and as she moaned in a monotone voice, answered that question. Well, that and her being wrapped head to toe in brightly colored pieces of cloth.
“You had to ask, didn’t you, Doc?”
He grabbed what he was working on—Tera still didn’t know what it was—and then pushed her in the direction of the shipping boxes: “You can pitchfork me later. Move!”
As they ran, Ivanna blasted the workbench with the laser. One would expect that there would be a laser-sized hole in the bench, but instead a flag popped out of the back of it which read “Ow!”
“You been buying from Acme again, Doc?”
As Tera ducked behind a stack of boxes she remarked: “Well, I’m glad she’s so out of it that she can’t read the manual.”
Looking out from behind the boxes they could see Ivanna had put the laser on the floor, had taken out the manual, which was as thick as a telephone directory, and was … well, not exactly studying it, but giggling at it.
“Not sure she can read.”
The giggling continued, and Ivanna fell on her side on top of the book, laughing all the way.
Tera and the Doc looked at each other from where they were hiding.
“Tera, would you mind?”
“Mind what, Doc?”
“Oh, you know, going over there and making her more interested in something else?” Tera sat on one of the boxes and thought for a minute about that.
After two minutes of Ivanna giggling, the Doc continuing to fiddle with whatever he was working on, and Tera tapping a finger against her lips, the Doc asked: “Tera? Please?”
She smiled: “The magic word …” then snapped her fingers and called out, “Of course! It’s four!”
The vapor trail that Ivanna left behind along with the laser spinning on the floor in a circle marked her leaving the room.
Doc was really confused. Both of his eyebrows were raised: “What’s on at four?”
“Soaps, beginning with “The Edge of Wetness.” We’re got at least five hours to figure something out.”
The Doc shrugged at that and returned to the bench, pushing some of the discarded parts aside and continuing his work.
Tera watched the Doc for a moment, then said, “I’ll be back.”
“Tera, Arnold you aren’t.”
She just laughed as she left the lab, “Thanks Doc, that’s why I love you.”
By the time Tera came back, the Doc had finished what he had been working on and put it aside. She stood by the door with something in one hand held behind her.
“Tied up. Enjoying it too. You might want to let her loose after you get rid of that stuff.” Her tail pointed at the shipping containers.
“I’ll add it to my list.”
Tera walked over to the Doc, then leaned against the workbench, looking at the room. “I know that feeling.”
Doc stretched: “Problems?”
“Oh some. You know how it is. Lots of people thinking that they know me, summoning me, trying to make me do things and …”
He nodded: “Pitchforking begins.”
“The bills for those are piling up, Doc. Pitchforks aren’t cheap.”
He had another one of those odd smiles now: “So I have heard.”
Tera waved one hand in the direction of the ceiling and ranted, “I just do not understand why exactly they can’t understand what they are doing before they do it.”
“Kind of like a certain Succubi Queen I know and technology?”
“Oh don’t you start Doc. I haven’t managed to blow up my iPhone … yet, at least.”
Doc thought for a minute, then asked, “Mind if I have a look at it a minute?”
Tera shrugged and reached into the top of her right boot, pulled a red iPhone out and handed it to him: “Here. Don’t know if you’ll get a signal though.”
He then started working at something there, Tera watched with a quizzical look as he did so: “What are you up to?”
“Just had a thought, Might help.”
“Oh, like there’s that meme that goes something like ‘If it is on the Internet, it must be true.’”
The Doc finished doing whatever he was doing and then handed it back to her: “And, someone created a Wikipedia page on you—totally wrong, of course. So I fixed it.”
Tera blinked in surprise: “Never thought of that.”
“Tera … Really?”
She looked at the phone’s screen, giggled a bit and then turned it off: “Summoning by appointment only?”
“Sure. And your book is full. Or at least the one in your phone is. Though I have no idea what HST means exactly.”
Tera put the phone away and then, simply, huggled the Doc warmly and explained: “HST means: ‘Huggle Someone Today.’”
“That’s why I love you, too, Tera.”
She chuckled and then her tail set between them a small box with a blue bow on it: “I thought …”
He chuckled and reached into the pile in front of him to then place a small box with a red bow on it beside the one with the blue bow: “… you could use this.”
They both looked at the two boxes sitting there and then laughed together for a while, the two hugging each other, and just having a moment.
They each picked up their box and opened it at the same time.
Sometimes the universe works in mysterious ways.
This was one of those moments. In each box was a simple little silver card, only about two inches square. Each one had written on it five simple words, one in Tera’s handwriting, one in the Doc’s: “Thanks for being a friend.”
Words weren’t really needed, then. There were a lot of tears from Tera, as you would expect, and a lot of chuckles from the Doc, which you should have expected by now.
See, the thing that really matters, when you think about it, is that you have friends to share your problems with and help with theirs if you can.
Because that’s what friends do. Even a Succubi Queen and a Mad Scientist know that …
And these two most certainly do.