This is the continuing story of the Succubi called Storm Clouds…
Chapter 20 edits and I have to decide whether it continues or I leave you hanging for a bit…
Storm Clouds 132
“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 … 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 want 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 resort as far as he was concerned. He closed the distance and then took hold of Camilla’s wrist, stopping her from using the crop 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 to when 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 others? Leave them empty shells of themselves? 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. Please, 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 the world that she lived in to humans. 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 in carrying it out came 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?“
“They are what is wanted.”
Camilla paused at that answer. It didn’t sound like something that Ginger would say on her own, which was troubling. She took the crop and placed it lengthwise against Ginger’s folds, pressing it against the flesh, “Wanted for what, slut?”
“To be claimed again by those they no longer serve.”
It took a great deal of control for her not to grab Ginger by her collar, and she managed in a curt voice, “Who wants them?”
Ginger didn’t respond to that. Camilla placed one hand against Ginger’s cheek, a green glow appearing there and moments later Ginger began to shake and mewl, but didn’t speak. Camilla’s fingers stroked slowly, “Slut… I am going to take you to the edge of cumming. Your pussy is going to ache and your mind is going to splinter apart piece by piece until you answer my question. The sooner you do, the better it will be for you … Otherwise, I am going to leave you a mindless shell here on the floor and then, oh then I’m going to find Mary Ann and do the same thing to her, slut.”
The answer was barely a whisper, one that Camilla would have missed save for the ragged breath that was taken before the words came out: “Please. Mistress doesn’t know why.”
Camilla drew the crop up and down as she tried to make sense of what had been said. Mistress doesn’t know why? But at the moment, Camilla was the Mistress here, wasn’t she?
“Tell Mistress why she doesn’t know.”
“Mistress does what she is told to do, just like slut.”
The cold shiver of realization of what Ginger had been trying to say made her stand up and run for the door, leaving Ginger curled up in a ball on the floor, her fingers pumping frantically in and out of her sex trying to overcome the hold that Camilla had over her.
To Camilla’s horror she heard the sound of a gunshot outside the door and went into a panic. She shifted back into her normal form, save for her horns and tail, which still were visible as she drew open the door and shouted, “Thomas!”
Moments before, Tom had left the office and closed the door behind him. It really bothered him how Camilla could do this. He supposed that most of his misgivings were because he was very old school in his thinking about relationships and sex. It had always been his belief that you found the right person for the right reasons, acted honourably, loved her, married her, and then were happy together.
He didn’t understand why people would want to suffer or be abused by others. It just didn’t make sense when he first heard of it and today … well, that hadn’t changed all that much.
He looked over to where Mary Ann sat at her desk typing away at a computer. Ignoring her, he moved towards the leather chairs and sofa on the far side of the room, hoping to find a magazine that didn’t have artificially enhanced women on the cover but did have some real articles within the pages. Looking at the table there, he sighed a bit as, of course, the only things to be seen were the current and past issues of the company’s flagship magazine, and nothing more.
Giving up on that idea, he dropped into a chair facing the office he just left and looked over the lobby. Lots of mirrors around–probably for Ginger to preen in, he thought. The doors through which the goons had left were closed … and Mary Ann … she was suddenly standing to the right of him in that stupid schoolgirl outfit, a slightly vapid smile on her lips.
“Hello Mary Ann.”
“Hiya, ‘tective! You need something while you’re waitin’?”
“No, thanks. Nothing here that interests me.”
She had a hurt look for a moment and then traced a finger over the curves of her breasts that showed over the top of the white shirt that she was wearing, “Nothin’? Nothing at all?”
Tom closed his eyes and sighed, “Nope. You have nothing that I’m interested in.”
To his surprise, Mary Ann patted his hand, “Wells, if ya want something, let me know, okay?”
He didn’t open his eyes, but instead tried to make sense of everything that had happened so far: thoughts of possible reasons, ideas of who was on the list next. But then, for some reason, his thoughts turned to his past and the one woman he had ever truly loved. He found the image of her forming so very clearly in his thoughts; he could see her, almost smell her perfume …
Sitting up, he coughed for a moment, and then heard a voice …
“Are you having allergies again, Thomas?”
That voice. Tom opened his eyes and saw standing there a woman with pixie-cut brunette hair with some blonde in it, a button nose, the pink lips he remembered so very well, wearing a black off-the-shoulder dress, and he heard the voice that he thought was gone forever.
“Hi, Thomas …”
It was her. Beth. And all of the feelings that he had kept bottled up inside for so long started seeping up again. He asked in a hurt tone, “How?”
“Don’t worry about it, Thomas. I’m here now and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
Tom found that it did matter, more than anything he had cared about in a long time. He got out of the chair and smiled almost stupidly, “Of course. I’ve missed you, honey …”
“I’ve missed you, too, Thomas.”
Her hands moved to straighten his collar: “You look good. Been looking after yourself?”
Tom found her voice soothing, and having her there just made the tension in his mind and body vanish, leaving only her voice as the one thing that mattered at that moment to him.
“No. Been missing you and … why did you have to go?”
“I’m here now, so you can forget about that, can’t you?”
Tom felt a little fuzzy then, like his thoughts weren’t connecting properly, like there was something that he should be remembering about Beth, but which wouldn’t connect in his mind. All he could do was listen to her voice and nod on occasion to her words.
“Why don’t you tell me what you are doing here, Thomas. Why are you and Camilla here?”
“Looking into a murder, but you don’t care about that.”
“Oh but I do, Thomas, I really do. Tell me about it.”
She slipped into his arms and for a moment he enjoyed having Beth in his arms again. It felt right. Just like the very first time he held her and they spent the night … together?
Tom’s eyes widened as he held her close and realized something. Beth couldn’t possibly know who Camilla was. That meant she couldn’t possibly be here. That meant … this wasn’t Beth.
His thoughts cleared enough for him to ask as he looked at her again, “How do you know Camilla?”
There was a look of confusion from her, “You introduced us? Remember? I’ve known her for years!”
That shook him from the stupor he was in and he turned away from her, “You’re not making any sense, Beth. Something’s wrong.”
She spun him back around to face her, her voice becoming more insistent, “You … introduced … us … Thomas.”
A wave of nausea came over him with her words and he closed his eyes to get that under control. The nausea went away and he found that his thoughts cleared, making him remember something.
She was wearing black. Beth never wore black. It was the colour she had hated more than anything else in the world. She’d rather go naked than wear black, she had once told him … and she never called him “Thomas.” Not ever. She didn’t like the formality of it, she told him. He would forever be “Tom” to her.
That snapped him clear of her hold over him and he acted out of instinct. Grabbing her by the arm, he pulled her down onto the floor, straddling her and pinning her there in the next moment. The anger pushed everything from his mind about Beth and he thought clearly at last: “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Beth! Can’t you see, Thomas?”
He pulled his gun from its holster and placed the barrel against her throat, “You look like her. You aren’t. She only wore yellow. You’re wearing black. She called me Tom. You’re calling me ‘Thomas.’ And she never met my partner. You’re a poor copy of her; should have realized that when you first appeared. What the hell are you? Show me or I swear I’ll put a bullet in you.”
Beth—no, this poor copy of her—continued to struggle, the fear on her face evident and then, to Tom’s surprise, she smiled. Then Beth’s smile was gone and an evil grin had replaced it. And behind that grin was Mary Ann struggling to free herself from where he had her trapped.
“You fuck! I’ll tear your heart out and eat it!”
Tom had figured out by now that she was something not human. This only made him angrier than he had been. He had foolishly assumed that there was some kind of honour among those that weren’t human. Whatever Mary Ann was, she didn’t have any. The next thought was of Camilla and her promise to him: not to pry into his life, to let him make his own decisions. He realized that it wasn’t just a promise, it meant something to her.
He found that it meant something to him as well.
“You are so dead, cop! They’ll never find your body when I’m finished with you!”
His thumb pulled the hammer back on the gun, “Let’s see how you do with a bullet in you.” He moved the barrel from her neck, and pulled the trigger leaving a clean hole in the floor beside her right ear and it bleeding where the bullet grazed her. The look of shock in her eyes that accompanied the sound of the shot echoing in the office gave Tom some satisfaction.
Whatever she was, she could be killed by a gunshot, it seemed.
He put the barrel against her throat again, “Talk or the next one is going to make it hard for you to breathe.”
“Bastard! I’ll rip you apart!”
He heard Camilla’s voice behind him, “Thomas!”
He took a quick look. Camilla was standing there in a panic. He found that comforting, somehow: “Camilla. Get over here and help me before I kill this … thing.”
She ran towards Tom trying to hide the fear that had been in her eyes when she burst through the office doors and thanked the stars that Tom was still alright.
Tom looked at Mary Ann, no longer just the image of a bimbo, but now a twisted version of one, one that had hate in her eyes and was obviously more than she appeared. As Camilla came closer, he told her, “The goons will be here in a minute. That gunshot will bring them running.”
Camilla’s smile was sure, “No, no they will not be, Thomas. I can promise you that they are … busy at the moment with other thoughts in their minds.”
He gave her an odd look and managed a smile, “Kinky ones?”
Camilla allowed herself a chuckle, “Very. You would be shocked.”
He turned back to Mary Ann, “So, what is she?”
Camilla’s tail struck out and slapped against Mary Ann’s cheek before she answered, “She’s s Siren. Mesmerizes her prey and then feeds them what they most desire to get what she wants.”
“Bitch. You’ll never get out of here alive. We’ll turn you both into thralls and you’ll…” Tom’s hand against her cheek stopped Mary Ann’s voice and put shock into her eyes.
“I don’t hit women, but in your case you aren’t a lady, are you?”
She didn’t answer except to look at Tom with death in her eyes.
“Camilla, what do we know?”
“Nothing useable, save for Ginger being a pawn of Mary Ann.”
Tom considered that for a moment. If that was true, then Ginger didn’t have control over this place any more than her husband did. It also explained what happened to him and why Ginger was so over sexualized from the woman she had been when he had first met the pair and took them to jail for a minor incident in the past.
“Okay. So, then, what do we do?”
Camilla’s voice was cold, “She talks to my Tail.”
The look in Mary Ann’s eyes became one of fear and she struggled trying to get away, becoming more violent in her movements, seemingly not caring if she hurt herself.
“What the hell does that mean? Why is she freaking out?”
“She knows what it means Thomas. That’s what matters.” Camilla’s tail struck Mary Ann’s cheek once more, making her stop moving as she looked in fear at Camilla. “You can talk to us right now, or you can talk to her. Make a choice.”
“If I talk, I’m dead. If I don’t talk, I’m just as dead.”
Thomas took hold of her chin, forcing her to look at him, “Pick one. Which is worse?”
The voice that came over Tom’s shoulder was smooth and seductive, its tone wrapped in dominance …
“I think I am.”
Jane returned to Tera as soon as she had changed into something less fetish-like. That amounted to a black sweater, blue jeans and low heels, an outfit which made her look as low as she felt.
It still shocked her that disappointing Tera would affect her so much. It wasn’t like she was one of Tera’s favourites; she wasn’t Rianna, or Branwyn, or any of the Daughters who had a direct family connection to her. She was … just Jane … just plain Jane. Or at least she would be if it wasn’t for this spell that held her in this form and handicapped her so badly. Now she looked like someone else with a pair of horns stuck to her head.
Why did it matter so much that Tera approve of her? Why did Tera really care that much about what she did? She was just one of many who were part of the Realm …
The Realm … Jane cursed herself for ever leaving it. Why did she follow her twin away from there? Why did she ever pick up and join in this futile quest?
She pushed all of that aside and made her way down the hall towards Tera once more.
But before she got there, she found someone blocking her way.
It was a small grey Calico kitten with a pair of orange wings on his back, floating in the air in front of her … and he was holding a sign in his front paws: So? What the hell happened to you?
“Leave me alone, Aries. I haven’t got the time to talk to you.”
But he didn’t move. He just hovered there in mid-air, his blue eyes looking at her and just waiting. Jane wanted to just get past him, to get to Tera, get her punishment or whatever else she was going to get and get it over with … maybe she would just get sent back to the Realm for her own protection or something and then she could crawl under a rock.
The sign changed: No, you have the time. Talk.
Jane leaned against the wall and looked at him. Aries was one of the AngelKitties; every Succubi in the Realm had one—except Tera, of course. Tera had two: her own purple one and a white one that was given to whomever was the Queen of the Succubi in the Realm. Legend had it that the white AngelKitty didn’t have a name, or wouldn’t tell it’s name to anyone but the Queen, and that it was, in fact, the AngelKitty which Tera had given to the first Queen, her mother.
But that was only legend.
“Fine. I screwed up. I got caught in a trap and now I am screwed. Are you happy now, Aries?”
The message changed: No. But at least you’re admitting that you are a fool. That’s a start.
Jane couldn’t help herself and let a small laugh escape her, “Thanks, it’s good to know that I’m measuring up to your expectations of me.”
Again it changed: Better. Now that you aren’t so pissed off at yourself, how about getting your mind around fixing your problem and then fixing whoever did this to you?
She sighed and put her hands over her eyes, “Aries, I don’t know where to start. I don’t know how to fix it. I’m not … Tera’s not sure that she can fix this. So what do I do?”
He didn’t do anything for a minute, save moving his tail back and forth behind him. Then the sign flipped over: Find yourself.
Then he fluttered up to her close, gave her a kiss on the nose, and flew away down the hall, away from Tera’s office. Jane watched him leave and tried to figure out what he was trying to tell her … but that was nothing new with Aries. Jane rarely understood him and, even after all these centuries with him as her companion, she still didn’t understand why he continued to stay with her.
After one last sigh, Jane took the last few steps to Tera’s door and walked in, ready to face the music once more.
The music wasn’t playing any more. Tera had turned off the record player and was leaning against her desk. Jane wondered idly if she had been in that same pose since she walked out of the room or if Tera was just trying to make her nervous. She was that already; Tera didn’t need to make any effort to have that happen.
Tera remained standing there, looking at her, arms crossed as her tail pointed at a chair next to her, “Daughter … Please sit down.”
It was probably the one thing that Tera could have said that would make Jane’s heart pound. She had never been called “daughter” by Tera. From the stories she had been told by other succubi who had heard that word, it usually meant that, whatever they did, the Queen didn’t approve. Jane dropped into the offered chair without saying a word and braced herself for what was coming next.
Tera began, “I do not have an answer for you. Why this happened, I cannot say, but–and it is a small but–I think you have the solution to this.”
The surprise was evident in Jane’s answer: “Tera, I have no idea what you are talking about! I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t plan for this … It’s not my fault!”
A single raised finger quieted Jane and then Tera continued, “I did not say that you would know the answer, Daughter. I said that you have the solution. There is a difference between the two.”
“What’s the difference?”
“The difference is that an answer is not a solution and a solution is not an answer.”
“Tera, forgive me, but your answers, especially the riddles, give me a migraine honestly.”
“Shows that your mind is working, Daughter. That is, really, a good start. Now, why don’t you use that mind of yours and tell me the one thing that you did that you hadn’t done before when this happened?”
Jane put her hands to her face in frustration, “I went to the place. I sensed someone in there, I changed form to this woman’s to have him lower his guard and get past him to the basement. I met him, flirted a little, and then went downstairs and shifted back and …”
The pause was a long one before Jane said, “… and I was thinking about him and that he was cute and I’d like to get to know him.”
Tera smiled, “So the ice queen melted?”
“Who told you that?”
A dismissive wave: “Oh, just about everyone who knows you well back home.”
“I don’t have the time to care about someone. That’s got nothing to do with me or anything about me, and I am not frigid!”
The smile didn’t change, “Jane, not being with someone since you and your sister came to us does not mean that, but it does mean that when you become infatuated with someone your mind wanders and you leave yourself open to something happening that you are not guarding against.”
Jane just sat there for a while not saying a word. Tera couldn’t possibly know what she was thinking or feeling for that matter. It had to be a guess …
… but she was right. Jane had thought about him and not kept her eyes open and now she was paying for that stupidity.
“So, now what?”
Tera picked up a small red beret on her desk and tossed it to Jane, “Now we go and find the man you are thinking about, get the two of you together and try to see what happens with that magic in you when he’s there.”
“This is a lousy disguise, Tera.”
Tera snapped her fingers and Jane’s clothing changed into a full length red dress to match the beret, “No, it’s not the best, but it is good enough to cover up your horns and tail. Well enough that we can see that boyfriend of yours and figure this out.”
Jane crossed her arms in disgust, “He is not my boyfriend.”
“Of course, Daughter, whatever you say … Now get up and move your tail before I pull you out of here by it.”
Jane moved quickly after that, following Tera as she left her office. From the way she moved through the building, Jane knew full well that Tera had made a decision and now was focused on seeing it through.
As they passed the receptionist, a set of keys sailed through the air and Tera caught them. Jane stopped and looked at the succubi behind the desk who shrugged slightly, “It’s my job.”
The sound of Tera’s heels clicking away held back any thought of a retort as Jane ran quickly after her into the world outside. She followed Tera past the gates and to a small red convertible that was parked just beyond them.
The pair got in and then, as Tera put the car into gear and drove away, a thought came to Jane: “Tera, where are we going?”
It was a satisfied smile that crossed Tera’s lips as she drove through traffic, “Oh, we’re going to your boyfriend’s apartment. Rumor has it that he’s sitting there trying to get a hold of that woman you look like.”
Jane put her hands up to her face, “Tera … please … he’s not …”
“Yes Daughter … I know … I know …”
Tera’s laugh didn’t really make Jane feel any better. How could she feel better when now she had to face John. This time she knew that Tera wouldn’t just let her escape him like before.
The drive passed quickly, far more quickly than Jane expected or was prepared for, really. The car came to a stop in front of a gleaming modern skyscraper that Jane was surprised to find herself impressed with—not for the building itself, but because John was living there.
Why that was exactly she wasn’t sure.
A short time later, Jane watched Tera knock on an apartment door. It opened to reveal John holding a cordless phone in his hand.
A look of confusion passed over his face as he said, “Jenni? I’ll call you back, okay? Something just came up.”
As John shut off the phone, Tera reached out a hand, plucked it away from him, and said, “Would you mind terribly much if we came in? I think you and my daughter have something to discuss.”
His answer was a slight nod, to which Tera responded to by pushing Jane past him and then walking into the apartment herself.
John’s only thought as they passed him and he closed the door was, “Okay, if that’s her mom, then I’m a monkey’s uncle.”