The next thing that comes to you is you feel something cold on you somewhere. You feel so awful you want to puke, but you don’t even have so much as a drop of water in your stomach not to mention anything else to throw up. You feel the now familiar pangs of need as strong as ever. Awareness comes back to you slowly, the ringing in your ears gradually lessens. You open your eyes and everything looks so dark you take a moment to realize that you actually did open them.

The world very very gradually comes back into focus. ‘I’m not dead?’ Your confused mind ponders. Shadows show something is moving, indistinct shapes come next, and then a feeling of something touching your lips, a warm metal shape is followed by the feeling of some kind of liquid flowing into your mouth. You automatically swallow it, some kind of soup? You were too out of it to really recognize what you’re tasting, but it definitely felt like more than simple water.

“…a….d…” You faintly hear a voice above the ringing in your ears and try to turn your eyes to follow it, but it’s hard. Your mouth and throat at least was no longer patched and made it a bit easier to speak.  “So… hungry…” You try to say. Your vision finally clears and you look into the eyes of whoever was speaking to you.

A young man was sitting there next to the bed you were laying on, getting another spoonful of some kind of greenish soup. He holds it up to your lips and you drink it down, it was giving you a bit of strength, whatever it was. He was handsome, short red haired and dressed in a simple plain clergyman’s robe complete with a cross around his neck, but that’s not what draws your eye.

You stare at the man’s covered cock as he leans over and takes a cloth from your head. You’re so transfixed you barely notice as the man wets the rag and gently wipes your face, wets it again, and replaces it on your forehead. You felt a bit of lust from him, but mostly what you felt coming off him was concern. You feel a bit of your strength return and realize the man must have been inadvertently giving you a slight dose of lust as he has been touching you.

“Please no…” The man stops in his tracks as you speak. “Please let me die.” You implore him. “You must be in great pain, but death is not the answer. You can be healthy again.” The man said, his voice sounded a bit faint, but you were having an easy enough time understanding him. “Doesn’t matter if… if I can live.” You respond. “I deserve to die. Please…” You beg him. The man looks at you almost as transfixed as you still are on his cock. It was right there, the key to your survival, beckoning… all you had to do was reach out…

The young man strides away to the other side of the room and picks something up, so you take the opportunity to take a look around. The place you were in looked simple, a fire burning in the corner, a few plates and utensils, plus an effigy of Jesus over the fireplace. It looked cozy enough, if barren, but the minimalism is what you would expect of a man of the cloth. “Because you are a monster?” He asked.

Your eyes widen. “How’d you kn…” You shut your mouth before you say too much, but it’s probably too late anyway. “The horns, wings, and tail are a giveaway.” The man said so nonchalantly it surprised you. He holds up a mirror to show you your reflection and you groan, apparently you had let your disguise fall as you were unconscious.

You manage to chuckle despite your weakness. “What does it matter? You’ll have my head cut off and I’ll die like I want. Not slowly and painfully enough for my tastes but it will…” All of a sudden, the young man slaps you across the face. “That’s enough of that. I’m not going to have you executed and you’re not going to die here.” He said firmly. “Now, why do you desire death?” He asked.

-

“I…” Images flash through your mind, they tormented you as they had for the past several weeks. A man, a drunk, grabbing and feeling up a barmaid that turned out to be you. Your righteous indignation as the man touched you all over, your ass, bountiful breasts, even going as far as to start rubbing your mound. You were a Succubus and needed lust to survive but that didn’t mean you wanted to be treated with such disrespect!

Normally you avoided men like that to get a meal from, but this time was different. ‘He’s not going to be able to get it up ever again after I’m done with him!’ You privately think. It was that righteous indignation that drove you to do what you did next. “Hey babe, lesss go somewhere witch juss the two of uss…” Slurring his words, of course the man was going to ask you to go somewhere private and you simply nod.

He was already starting to literally tear your panties off from under your plain red dress the moment the door to your room shut behind you. You didn’t waste any time and did the same with his pants and underwear. You could just suck him off, but that wouldn’t do what you wanted. You leap into his arms and kiss the drunk fiercely, the liquor on his breath so strong you’re surprised he can even stand up with how much he must have had.

Still being held in his arms you lower yourself onto his already ready cock and impale yourself on it, the man moving over to the bed and laying down with him still inside you. The rest was a bit of a blur really, maybe if you had been paying attention to something other than your own pleasure you might have stopped it from happening, but you weren’t. The lust coming off of the drunk was delicious for lack of a better word. Everybody’s lust had their own distinct flavor but this was so excellent you abandoned your original plan and all you could think about was getting more.

Normally, the amount of lust taken to get you full isn’t anything that caused problems, but you were gorging yourself on the stuff. His cock and skill in bed wasn’t anything to write home about, that pleasure was great, but it was just as orgasmic to feed. You’re not sure how long you both were having sex in that bed, or even what kinds of sex you were doing, all you could feel was bliss… until the lust was abruptly cut off.

You felt annoyed and looked down at the man about to ask flippantly if he had enough. Though you don’t remember what you were going to say anymore as your words died in your lips. “No…” You look into the man’s eyes, they were unmoving, empty. His body was still warm, but you couldn’t feel his heartbeat anymore, you couldn’t feel anything from him at all. You recall screaming next, but that’s the last thing you really remember before those eyes washed out every thought you were…

-

“…dame? Madame!” You feel someone shaking you hard. “Please don’t give up!” Your eyes open again, you hadn’t even realized you had blacked out. Your caretaker tries to give you some water, it wasn’t going to do much, and you could feel the minscule lust he was passing you with his touch was starting to fail to be enough.

As the image of the dead man’s eyes shoots through your mind you finally work up the courage you needed. “I… I killed someone.” You finally answer your caregiver. ‘Now this would be enough to do it.’ You think. Surely the man would have you executed or dump you out on the streets to… ‘Why is he still trying to cool me with that cloth?’ Your mind is doing flips trying to make heads or tails of what the man was doing. “W…why?” You ask unbelieving.

“A discussion for another time, when you are better.” The man said as he set the cloth onto your head again. “What is wrong with you?” The man asked. “Want a list?” You cough as you try to laugh. “It’s simple. I’m just starving to death.” The man spoons up some more soup and tries to feed it to you, but you hold up a hand. “That’s not going to do any good. That food is not what I need.” You say, and he puts the spoon back in the bowl and sets it aside. Clearly this man didn’t know what a Succubus was. “What I need… I need…” You find your hand moving like it has a mind of its own as you reach out towards the young man.