Chapter Twelve
Isabel emerged from the shower attached to her room, feeling on edge almost as much as she felt energized and relaxed by the opportunity to get good and clean. It’s kind of amazing how much a shower can change your mood, she thought, stepping into the main room of her prison cell without even bothering to put on any clothes.
The transformation was still continuing; Isabel had seen her reflection in the mirror, and knew that she was almost at the peak of her beauty as a succubus; her hair seemed to shine with an almost crystalline gleam, and her eyes were bigger and brighter than ever. Her skin was utterly flawless, and the curves of her body were so ripe that if she had seen a picture of herself the way she had become back before the strange turn of events that led to her new existence, she would have insisted that nothing short of intensive, life-threateningly extreme plastic surgery could have accomplished it.
She turned around in front of a full-length mirror in her room, shaking her head at herself once more. The woman at Nordstrom had measured her bra size at a 34 F – and certainly, that size of bra had felt the most comfortable, but the woman Isabel saw in the mirror managed to have almost comically full breasts that drooped only just enough to be real. There was not a single stretch mark, not even the suggestion of a cellulite dimple on her body. One development that somewhat disturbed her was the fact that she didn’t seem to have any hair below her neck, almost anywhere. Her legs were flawlessly smooth, and as she had showered, Isabel had been alarmed to watch as the trimmed hair on her vulva slide away from her body, revealing utterly smooth skin underneath – so smooth, in fact, that it looked as though there had never been hair there in the first place. Her underarms were equally bare, and her eyebrows looked as if they had been professionally seen to.
“Well, I guess there’s something to be said about beauty standards,” Isabel murmured to herself, trying to dismiss the implications of her hairless body. She finished drying herself off and sat down on the edge of her bed, trying to decide whether or not she even wanted to get dressed.
Hours before – how long exactly, Isabel wasn’t sure, since a clock was not one of the room’s features – Gavin had told her that he had personal plans for her, and that they were somehow going to work together to free Oz. He had suggested that she would have to participate in a threesome in order to make that happen; and the part of Isabel’s mind that was still mostly human--and tied to her previous life--couldn’t quite believe that she would ever be so starved. Even though she’d managed to have sex with two men in the span of one evening, the thought of having sex with two men at the same time was beyond her. On the other hand, my job is basically to be as big of a slut as possible, Isabel thought, grimacing to herself.
As she considered the prospect of having sex with Oz and Gavin at the same time, Isabel couldn’t deny that she felt the heat beginning to start up in her body once again, the sense of something akin to hunger beginning to stir inside of her. As she had progressed in her transformation, the stomach-gnawing feeling had started to subside, replaced by a deeper kind of hunger that she hadn’t experienced since high school. Even at that, she thought, she didn’t quite feel it in her stomach anymore; it made sense that she wouldn’t--since she was more than capable of eating actual food, and since the source of the hunger wasn’t her digestive system, but rather something else.
“One of these days,” Isabel mused quietly to herself, “I will figure out everything there is to know about being a succubus, instead of having people only tell me as much as they want me to know about it.” She sighed and looked around the room. It was difficult to prepare herself for some rescue attempt that Gavin might make when she had no idea what he might want her to do, or when he might come to spring her. She thought about the other vampire she had met, Portia, who had definitely taken the wrong approach if she had wanted to earn Isabel’s trust. Isabel thought about the dark wings on the two vampires in her room and shuddered. Where Oz’s wings had been amazing – and somehow comforting – the darker wings of the vampires had reminded Isabel of predatory birds.
The door to her room opened and Isabel resisted the human urge to cover herself; instead she glanced in the direction of the noise and saw Portia walk in, with a man she had never seen before, looking almost drugged. “Thought you might be hungry,” Portia said, smiling broadly enough to show the sharpness of her teeth.
In spite of herself, Isabel felt the jolt of arousal course through her at the sight of the man. The human part of her mind argued that the man wasn’t even particularly attractive; he was maybe forty years old, with a flat stomach that looked as though it were starting to lose its tone, sunburned skin dusted with freckles and dark hair that had started to go gray at the temples. If he was mundane to Isabel, it was obvious from his immediate reaction to her that she was irresistible to him; the man’s eyes widened, and he opened and then closed his mouth, speechless for a moment. “God, I would pay my life savings to fuck you,” the man told her. “You’re probably tight as a virgin and wet as a slip-n-slide, aren’t you?”
“This is Steve,” Portia said, gesturing to the man. The door closed behind them and Isabel heard the lock click and thump into place. “He’s a regular human, as you can see. His fantasies include being turned into a vampire and having two succubi service him at once.” Isabel looked at the vampire sharply.
“I’m not hungry,” Isabel said, shrugging. “Gavin took good care of me earlier.” It was a lie, and Isabel knew that Portia was aware she was lying, but she’d had her commands from Gavin. Steve started towards her, seemingly transfixed. “Stay right there, bud,” Isabel told him sharply.
He froze in his tracks. “Very good! You take to the mind control aspects of your new state better than some,” Portia said with another smile. “We’ve had some difficulty getting some of our more ... moralistic recruits to embrace that part of their nature.”
“How do you handle that?” Portia shrugged.
“We starve them, and then feed them, and then starve them again, until they’re at the brink of losing the ability altogether--at least, temporarily of course – and then only let them feed if they use the ability.” Portia sat down in the only chair in the room and gestured to Steve. “He’s one of our better trainers for that purpose. Just last week, he gave into a succubus’ command to let her fuck him in the ass with a strap-on before she let him take her.” Isabel glanced at Steve.
“Is that true? Tell me if it is,” she said. Steve nodded.
“I’d let you do whatever you wanted to me, if I could get inside you,” Steve told her. “Sure I can’t come eat your tight, wet pussy for you?”
“That’s enough, Steve,” Isabel said. “From now on, you’ll treat me with the same respect that you would your own grandmother.” Steve frowned, obviously conflicted for a moment. Isabel flicked a glance in Portia’s direction to see the vampire’s amusement at the man’s confusion.
“Okay,” Steve said finally.
“Why don’t you sit down, Steve?” Steve looked around for somewhere to sit and Isabel suppressed a grin; in a certain respect, the ability to bend men’s minds was actually fun. “Sit on the floor,” she told him. Steve obeyed without a moment’s hesitation. Isabel turned her attention back onto Portia.
“They were right about you,” Portia said. The vampire woman shook her head slightly. “I may not trust Gavin, but he certainly has an eye for recruitment.”
“Wouldn’t it be more Oz that had the eye? He did have sex with me first.”
Portia shrugged as if the distinction didn’t matter much.
“Whatever the case, you’re clearly precocious,” Portia said. “If you would just let us train you, let us teach you how to be the best you can possibly be …” she smiled again. Always smiling that one, Isabel thought irreverently. “Then you could be a very wealthy, very powerful woman.”
“And by that you mean, feed on whoever you bring me, and submit to your rules,” Isabel said. She shook her head. “Not particularly interested.”
“Gavin isn’t going to be in the council’s good graces forever,” Portia told her. “You’re going to need someone to handle you.”
“I’m kind of full up on people commanding my life,” Isabel said.
“Succubi on their own become self-destructive,” Portia told her dryly. “Without guidance, without someone to make sure they’re feeding safely …” she shrugged again.
“And even if you got rid of Gavin, I’d still be here,” Isabel pointed out. “It might have occurred to you that I’m not really keen on being controlled.”
“No one is,” Portia said. “But when it’s inevitable, there’s a certain joy to be found in having useful employment, as well as protection.”
“Well, maybe I’ll come around,” Isabel said, glancing at Steve. “But right now, I’m not hungry enough to lower my standards.”
“I’ll bring you someone more challenging next time, then,” Portia said with another insincere grin. “We have some college boys you might like; lots of stamina and no shame at all in them.”
“I look forward to seeing what’s on the menu,” Isabel said brightly. She could feel the slick heat along her labia, the tightening of her muscles. If Steve was in the room for much longer, her self-control – motivated by Gavin’s command – would start to crack, she knew it would. Even if Steve wasn’t to her taste, the part of her that had already transformed into a succubus wanted him for what he had to offer.
“He won’t get up until you tell him,” Portia said, gesturing at the middle-aged man. Portia shook her head, giving Isabel an admiring look. “You’ve got better control than most of the succubi first coming into their powers. You really should reconsider your position.” The woman stood and looked at Isabel expectantly.
“Why don’t you stand up, Steve?” The man rose to his feet, his gaze still riveted on her, and Isabel couldn’t help but feel a thrum of pride and desire, a jolt of hunger and a greedy thrill of need at the way he looked at her. “How much do you want me?”
“I would let her drink me dry if I could get a chance at your tight little pussy first,” Steve said blandly. Isabel was torn between a cringe and a smile.
“What did I tell you about respect?”
“You asked!” Steve looked almost heartbroken. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disrespect you.”
“It’s okay, Steve,” Isabel said, making her voice soothing. “I did ask. You can go now.”
“But–”
Isabel scowled slightly at him.
“Go. You don’t want to upset me further do you?” Steve shook his head and turned on his heel, nearly walking straight into the locked door in his haste to do her bidding. Portia snickered and followed the man, giving Isabel a quick, approving glance before she unlocked the door and stepped through it.