A Dance for the Night (part one)
boar,wolf,human, m/f, implied yiff, transformation
~~Disclaimer: This story contains brief m/f scenes and such things that shouldn't be seen by the eyes of those younger then 18. If your offended by such things, then I suggest you stop reading now. I have no resposiblity what so ever if you get in trouble for being here. All the characters are purly mine and live only in my mind(so don't steal them witout permission!!!). All that said...enjoy!~~
Not many believe me when I say I died long ago or that I was human before my death. I don't blame them really. All they see is the petite white fox sitting before them, all pretty and innocent looking. I don't look dead, and indeed my heart beats and I do breath even though I don't need the same things a mortal would. I surely don't look human with my silver-white fur and it's black markings on my paws and the tips of my twin tails. I'm slightly vain, but thats besides the point. There really isn't anything about me to set me apart aside for maybe the silver-purple eyes that seem to be the tradmark of my kind.
How long have I been...Other? I honestly couldn't tell you. I have memories of times not my own. Ancient times, places that I can remember as if I'd been there. I remember being the head wife of a harem in Egypt, the wife of a merchant in Greece, a dancer in Rome...I can go on and on.
I'm sure you think me quite insane by now. It's alright, I understand compleatly. If I were you, I suppose I would feel the same way. But I am what I am. A succubus of sorts, but it's not just lust that I yearn for and feed off of. I want the pain, the joy, all the emotions that come with life. I thrive off of emotion, it keeps me young and ageless. It gives me the power I have need and have grown to crave.
The human I was before never really wanted power, she never wanted to be anything other then a simple lady of the house. At fourteen, she'd been innocent, sheltered and without fault. A bud of a rose, not yet opened and without thorns; fragile and easily broken. I don't know if she thanks or hates the one who made her into the creature I am today. Maybe the girl, in her own way, both hates and loves him in the way so many of my victims both love and hate me.
Only fourteen and married to a man twice her age and a morph at that. But her had money and her parents wanted that more then they wanted their daughter. They didn't give a fuck about me...her. That tender little rose was to become bruised and left to wither under the frosty touch of a husband she would never please, thrown into a world where that thronless rose couldn't protect herself.
Oh, her boar of a husband, for a boar her was, treated her nice enouh, lavishing gifts upon her everytime her used her violently. Lovingly washing the blood of her virginity from her thighs when he first took her. But he also loved her pain as he ravaged her brutally. Her moans brought forth from her unwanted tourture.
It was a silver wolf with silver-violet eyes that saved her. A true lord who could never be considered just male or just female for he was neither and yet both at the same time. He showed the girl compassion, a gentle brush of his hands beneath her skirts, the blinding pleasure of climax. It was he who taught her how to use her womans body and cultured the hidden thorns to now addorn this fully bloomed rose I've become.
I remember the night the girl died and became who I now am. The pain she felt as her human coil fell away and she became the vixen succubus named Kyanna. She thrived in the heated passion of their mating, the fast rythum as his hips, his flesh slamed into her from behind. The woman in her loved to hear the grunts and the moans of her lover, the feel of his sack laden with his seed slapping against her ass. Never before had he split that seed in her, but that night would be differnt.
In that Glorious moment of passion, the both climaxed togehter and the gates of their souls poured forth. In that moment, neither of them exsisted and yet they were both the same person. She could feel his power urging her to embrace it, become everything she was meant to be. It scared her, that power, but even more she feared what she would be without it. And so, she threw herself into that power, embracing it for all it's worth...
Only to be thrown back into reality and her dying body as it changed. It was the pain of my human form giving way to the vixen you see before you that hurt more then anything else. There was no pain when my heart stopped or my lungs ceased to function. Only the pain as organs I'd never had before were created and my bones became something other then human.
I have no memory of my first years as a succubus.I don't remember when I layed down to rest, I only remember awakening in this day and age to the lust and need for emotion that I'd had since that night. I remeber my first victim that I took upon awakening.
She was a young wolf, a pup really, who'd somehow ended up on the streets, selling herself to make ends meet. There was so much paing in her and it fueled her passion as I took her. What a feast she was! I love pain in my victims, both emotional and physical, but the deep mental pain she had is rarely matched. She was the girl I had been in so many ways and I relished in that fact. In return I gave her a pleasure she'll never again feel. That once in a life time experience many would die to have.
There have been many since her, a new pain each time, a new joy and a new tale to tell. I'm sure there will be more in my exsistence. And I'll rejoyce in each one I take. It is who I am after all...
(Authors Note: There is more to come about my succubus vixen. If you want to keep in touch with me, contact me at my web page, http://www.livejournal.com/users/elizabethknight/ or LightofLilith(a)Hotmail.com [replace the (a) with @]. Toodles...)