The Setting Sun

Four women sat, Jane assumed, in four separate but identical rooms. In a way they were sacrifices, but the room wasn't a small, dingy cell as one might expect.

No, quite the opposite. The room was rich and comfortable. A luxurious, red four-poster bed sat in the centre of one wall, surrounded by elegantly gilded mahogany furniture. Red tapestries and paintings of crudely sexual women lined the walls, except for where a large window looked out to the last embers of the setting sun falling below a canopy of oaks. A large chandelier in the centre of the tall ceiling was the only other source of light, as candles stood unlit upon drawers and shelves.

It was like this because the sacrifices for this particular ritual were not looked down upon, or forced into their actions. They were celebrated volunteers. Cults tended to be weird like that.

This particular ritual involved the siphoning of four feminine souls to summon a great, powerful succubus. Jane thought it sounded a little morbid, but the dark demonic arts always seemed like that to her.

For she was a willing sacrifice for an entirely different reason to the others. Even though she had stripped the rings and necklaces and clothes that she would usually display as a member of the Mortal Order, she very much still believed that the mortal plane should remain untarnished by both the divine and demonic. Which is why she was here to stop this ridiculous ritual.

She placed another grape into her mouth from the vast, mouth-watering banquet she had been granted for her supposed last night with an intact soul. Already she had been clothed in revealing translucent silk, a bright rose-red that made her skin underneath appear infernal. It twisted around her body only, it seemed, to accentuate the curves of her lithe, feminine form, and hid nothing at all from wandering eyes. She looked like a whore, perhaps, but at least a rich one - she could appreciate the elegance and effort that had been put into the outfit.

Her make-up was untouched, although she had initially worn it purposefully to attempt to persuade the cult into choosing her as a sacrifice. Her lips wore a dark crimson lipstick, glossy and unlike any she would usually wear. Her eyes were smoky and dark, with their vibrant forest-green irises appearing to shine. Blonde-hair was twisted and bundled up into a voluminous bun, with a few stray wavy strands falling ether side of her face.

It had worked perfectly.

A knock sounded from the door, before the handle turned and it swung open slowly and heavily - a sign of the age of the strange little mansion twisted into the side of a hill. Bounding in came a series of servants, designated by the cult to take care of their beloved volunteers.

Even Jane had to congratulate their efficiency. Within only two minutes the entire banquet was gone, and she was once more left alone. When the sun fully set, she could begin to put her plan into fruition. There would be no summoning. The Mortal Order would be proud.

She smiled to herself.

But only for the briefest of moments.

Click.

The unmistakeable noise of a sharp heel hitting the wooden floor sounded out from behind her. With a twist, Jane turned her torso to face it.

From amongst the tall shadows coating the far wall, a cloaked female figure emerged. Covered in the dark shawl, it was difficult to make out any finer details about the woman, but it was loose enough around the front to grant a daring view inside.

A thin, sheer fabric, black and patterned, hugged her figure tightly. Jane spotted a glimpse of a floral pattern across her midriff before a swish of the cloak covered it again.

Click.

She paced forward. Slowly, with a saunter to her step as she unashamedly accentuated the swing of her hips. Shadows hid most of her face, but the light rose just enough to display a sharp chin and a pair of full, dangerously red lips courteously pulled into a sly smile.

Click.

Walking over to the large window as if to admire the setting sun, the woman spoke not a word. In response, Jane simply watched - cautiously, but not obviously so. As far as the cult was concerned, she trusted them fully.

Click.

Facing away from Jane, the mysterious woman came to a halt. Jane glanced down, past the rippling hem of the cloak, at the heels the woman wore. They were a mildly glossy black, and as long and sharp as any Jane had seen.

A moment of silence followed, weighing down the air like a thick fog. Then, finally, the woman spoke.

"Is it a coincidence, do you think, that the sun is at its most beautiful when it sits on the horizon, its disappearance imminent and inevitable?"

Jane didn't respond. When the cultists started to babble in metaphors, she found it was usually best to let them ramble. Most were too caught up in their own grand ideas to notice either way.

"Or do you think it is preciselybecause it is about to sink and vanish that it puts on its best show?"

The woman turned her head and shoulders towards Jane, presumably watching her from around the edges of her hood. Her legs stayed in place.

"It is neither, naturally." Those red lips smiled. "But the question is interesting, still. Tonight, dear, is your last. You must decide whether to fade passively into the writings of history or, like the setting sun, go out more beautifully than ever before."

She paused expectantly, waiting for Jane to fill the silence.

"And what are you then, to come to me at this time? The moon, filling the sky that the sun left behind?"

Jane smiled back. She wasn't so bad at rambling herself.

"I've been called many things, dear, but never the moon." She turned fully now to face Jane. "The moon is pure and bright and innocent."

"Are you not?" Jane quipped.

The woman didn't speak, but after a moment she slowly raised her hands. One fiddled with a clasp around her collarbone, holding the cloak tight, while the other hooked two fingers into her hood.

In one shrug, with a click of a clasp, the cloak fluttered away from her body. It fell patiently through the air, swishing this way and that, before coiling around her feet in a messy heap.

Jane's focus was entirely elsewhere.

The moment the hood had been swept back, the woman's face had been revealed. The light over her face had spread upward, from her

lips to a small, defined nose. Up her cheeks, that held within them a soft warmth. To her eyes. Fiery orange eyes that burned with something powerful, with intent as they stared at Jane.

Further up, where long eyelashes contrasted the brightness of the eyes they sat upon, to perfectly moulded eyebrows and, finally, up to her hair.

Chestnut brown hair, thick and wavy, cascaded beautifully around her face and behind her head, reflecting the last dimming rays of flame-licked sunlight. On top of her head, just above where her forehead met her hairline, were two small, jagged horns.

As Jane's eyes adjusted, she noticed more oddities. The woman's skin held a pinkish tone that was unnatural for a human. Her eyes reallydid flicker like a flame. As her lips parted into a smirking grin, a glint of a fang shone out. She was a demon of sorts, that much was clear.

"Do I look innocent and pure to you, dear?" She inquired, voice dripping with sarcasm.

She did not.

Jane's gaze dropped. Under the cloak, she thought the demon was wearing some kind of patterned dress. How wrong she had been.

She was wearing a thin, skin-tight, nylon bodysuit that was entirely translucent except for the spiralling patterns of thorns and roses that twisted about her like tattoos. The hint of pink colour came not from the clothing but from her skin underneath.

All of her skin.

She had a petite, tall form yet had large, shapely breasts that stood proudly. The nylon stretched over them, accentuating their curve. Two dark maroon nipples, Jane made note of with slight worry, were hardened and pressing out visibly against the fabric.

Jane's gaze fell lower as she continued to give the demon a once-over, down to a thin, tight midriff that flared out into hips any man would consider instinctively breedable. Plump, toned thighs led down to long, lithe legs - defined and flexed beautifully by the tall heels she wore.

Jane looked back up and cocked an eyebrow. "A succubus?"

The demon ran slender hands - with tremendously impressive nails - up her sides, making sure to cup her breasts as they passed over before coming to rest on her throat.

"What gave it away?" The succubus purred, fixing Jane with a stare so full of desire it seemed to overflow and spill over to Jane.

Looking away, Jane thought fast.

"What brings you to me? I thought my sacrifice was to summon a succubus, yet here you already are."

Click.

Jane's gaze flicked back to the succubus as she began to approach. Each step was preceded by a deliberately slow sway of her hips; each motion and pose only adding to her sensuality.

"There are levels, dear. The succubus you are to summon is... mmm... so much more powerful." She practically moaned the words. "I'm simply here to prepare you."

Click.

Jane could already feel the tug on her mind from the presence of the succubus. Sexual desire that pulled so hard it could permanently alter her pattern of thoughts. To make the problem worse, she had none of her gear. She wasexpecting to be alone as the sun set.

"See, the strength of this ritual depends on the pleasure of its subjects. To summon her, you must be... quivering." The demon licked her lips - slowly, as if delighting in the taste of her imagination.

Jane didn't like the sound of that.

Click.

Although the feeling of a damp drip between her legs suggested that part of her - the part that succubi are so adept at speaking to without even a word - absolutelyloved the sound of it.

Turning briefly to the side, Jane scanned the furniture. Her eyes rested on an ornamental candle, unlit, sitting in a holster. Crucially, its metallic bottom edge was carved as sharp as any blade. She looked back. She didn't need it, not yet, but if she had to...

Click.

"I'll cover you in so many kisses that your skin will resemble hers. You'll be too wet to think. Consider it my parting gift, dear."

At the mention of kisses, Jane's lips parted of their own volition. At the mention of wetness, her pussy strummed with a pulse of heat. It simply wasn't a fair fight.

The succubus came to a stop right in front of where Jane sat on the edge of the bed, towering above her, looking down like a predator that just saw a deliciously juicy meal.

Focusing inwards, Jane concentrated on her breathing.

Slow.

Steady.

In.

Out.

All she had to do was survive the onslaught withsome of her thoughts intact. To let the succubus pleasure her a little and then leave. And if she couldn't do that, then the candle blade...

She had to ignore the way the succubus' knees pressed against her own. How they forced their way between hers and pried her legs open.

Breathe slowly...

But even with such introspection, her breath hitched as the succubus put a hand on each of her shoulders. How they squeezed and rubbed suggestively. How the knees spreading her legs pushed further forward against her inner thighs.

The succubus was kneeling now, on the edge of the bed, hovering above Jane with a smug smile that proved she knew exactly how she was making Jane feel.

It wasn't a fair fight. A succubus against a human. One was practically made to make the other fall.

The next series of events happened in an instant.

One of the succubus' knees brushed over the fabric covering Jane's damp cunt, and she gasped out in anticipated bliss. Taking advantage of this, the succubus collected Jane's lips in a fierce kiss, wrapping her arms around Jane's body. The thin fabric of Jane's silken dress did nothing to mute the sensations of hot fingers gliding patterns along her skin.

In that moment, there was not a single thought of resistance in her mind.

The succubus' hands moved to Jane's front, graciously sweeping over her needily erect nipples, eliciting a throaty moan that flew straight from one mouth into another. The hands came to rest on Jane's chest, above her breasts, and pushed.

Falling back with a cushioned thump and a breathy gasp, Jane found a moment to collect herself.

Her eyes glanced at the candle blade.

But one moment wasn't enough. The succubus, bending over Jane's lying body, wrapped her lips ever so wonderfully over one of Jane's nipples, and Jane's eyes rolled up further than she thought possible.

Hot electric pleasure coursed throughout Jane's veins, corrupting her body and its very nerves. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It was the one sentence she could manage to repeat in her head to keep her sane.

Nails tickled her sides, and roamed her skin. The succubus' mouth kissed and licked and sucked and nibbled. A chorus of moans and cries echoed from the walls. Already Jane felt like she was on the brink of orgasm.

Then the succubus pulled away.

"Mmm, not so soon, dear. I told you, did I not? Not until the summoning ceremony."

The words held important meaning, yet to Jane they were dull compared to the physical sensations she felt, and went ignored. Instead, her focus was on the breast that the succubus was no longer suckling.

Except, it felt like she was.

"So pretty..." The succubus cooed, gently gliding her thumb over the spot her lips previously occupied, looking down with a hint of pride.

Jane lifted her head to look.

Left behind over her areola was a vibrantly red, wet kiss mark. It tingled and buzzed, providing sensation even when no physical contact was there. And it felt incredible.

"Do you like that, dear?" The succubus bit her lip lustfully.

Jane peered up, and she wasn't sure what expression she made, for it was entirely subconscious. Maybe it was fear. Maybe there was a pleading glint in her eyes. Whatever it was, it sent the fire in the succubus' irises into a frenzy.

Jane cried out as the succubus' enchanted lips found her other tit, her hips gyrating and grinding against the knee that pressed, motionless yet expectant, against her mound. The slickness of her juices had long since seeped into the silk of her clothes, and her cunt moved over the succubus' nylon with smooth ease.

Her own hands grabbed at the succubus' head, scrambling through hair and horns as it felt like both of her breasts were attacked at once, even if physically it was only one. The orgasm welled up within her core, growing hotter and larger and-

The succubus pulled away again. With a shuffle of her legs, the knee was removed from the reach of Jane's hips. Torturously, she hung right before the point of climax, held there by the pulsing pleasure still swirling through her breasts. It wasn't fair.

Hands stroked her thighs as if trying to calm her, but it only stoked the desires that made her shake. The succubus spoke, but Jane didn't hear a word. She could no longer comprehend anything beyond the pleasure.

Time seemed to stretch and squish and remould itself to fit the succubus' whims. More kisses were placed over Jane's stomach, on her hips, on her neck, on her arms and legs. Blissful, buzzing pleasure remained wherever the lip marks stained her skin. She didn't question how they seemed to pierce through the silken fabric she wore, or what caused them to feel so wonderful, or what it would to do her mind. She simply squirmed and moaned.

At some point she was flipped over, or possibly commanded to. The line between the succubus' desires and her own had become so blurred she wasn't sure.

More kisses were strewn across her back. Between her shoulder-blades, over her shoulders. Down each vertebra of her spine. Great attention was spared for each of her buttocks, which were plastered in kisses until her whole rear was ignited in lust. Down her thighs, coming ever so close to her throbbing, pink pussy but never giving it more than a teasing exhale of breath.

"Come, dear." The succubus pulled her to a stand. "You deserve to admire your beauty."

Following the steps of the demon, Jane was led to a full-length mirror.

She stared.

There wasn't a single spot of skin that wasn't blessed by the shape of the succubus' lovely lips, except for her face and a circle around her crotch. Her body was on fire, aroused beyond imagination and gushing with juices. Her hair was tangled and messy, and in her own eyes she saw only a need for more.

Even just standing there, she quivered and trembled and whimpered and yet somehow nothing seemed to push her over the edge.

From behind, the succubus placed her hands around Jane's sides, moving her slightly to the side. Manipulating her body, bending her forwards. Automatically, Jane's hands grasped the edge of a drawer for balance.

Her hips were effortlessly rotated to best present her ass, which the succubus kneaded and squeezed with a desire of her own.

Eyes wavering between focus and a blur, Jane saw something. Atop the drawer sat a candle, its metallic structure curving down, its edge sharp. A makeshift weapon standing only one motion away from her reach.

Behind her, the succubus lowered herself down, trailing hot air over Jane's back, lower and lower.

When it reached the small of her back, Jane twitched her hand. Fingers straining against the mahogany began to let off as her weight shifted over to one arm.

When the breath tickled her tailbone, Jane crept that hand forward until her trembling fingers touched the cold metal.

While the breath slid through the cleft of her ass, her fingers wrapped around its handle, gripping so strong her knuckles whitened.

An incredible brush of hot, delirious air brushed over her pussy as she lifted the candle out of its holster. Her knees shook, almost buckling. A needy whimper escaped her lips, but her grip stayed firm.

The succubus' fingers spread her cheeks, rubbing and kneading. Her cunt dripped like a waterfall. Her arm retracted, blade in hand. All she had to do was whip around and thrust.

The succubus placed a soft, wet kiss on her cunt.

The clattering of the blade hitting the edge of the drawer before falling heavily to the ground was matched in volume by Jane's elbow bashing the drawer so hard that if the wall weren't behind it, it would've toppled.

And nothing in the world could compare to the gushing cry of orgasmic pleasure that Jane screamed.

She was spurting and squirting and shaking and it was as if all the little kiss marks had returned to full strength; as if a thousand pairs of demonic lips were guiding her through the best and worst climax of her life.

The succubus' face must've be drowning in her juices, yet it didn't stop her from placing another delicate kiss on Jane's twitching, pulsing cunt.

Immediately, Jane convulsed into a second orgasm, although it was difficult to know when and where the first one ended and the second began. Jane's eyes rolled up as if they were trying to stare at the way her mind was being molded. It wasn't fair and she didn't care because it felt so fucking great.

Kiss after kiss were placed over her flooded lips, on her slit, on the inner-most parts of her thighs, on the hood of her clit. Each one brought with it an orgasm more powerful than the last. At some point, Jane had fallen to the floor, the fall cushioned by the succubus' caress, and now she lay twitching and convulsing and begging, although when the words reached her lips they morphed into incoherent gibberish.

After what felt like a lifetime climaxing, Jane realised the succubus was no longer touching her. It was difficult to tell, as if felt like she was still being touched all over.

Still panting, her chest rising and falling dramatically with each breath, Jane peered around.

The succubus was sitting calmly on the edge of the bed, watching her with curious interest as if disregarding what she had just done to Jane.

After a few moments where they looked over each other, the succubus patted the edge of the bed next to her.

"Come, dear." She stated, calmly but firmly. The tone left no room for Jane to disagree.

Jane had to force herself not to dwell of the double-entendre lest that alone bring her back of the edge. With slow movements, and shaky knees, Jane brought herself up and sat.

"It's tough, I imagine." The succubus began. "A lifetime of hating demons and in only one night your beliefs are shattered. Is it possible to pick up the shards and fix them?"

Stuck in a heavy post-orgasmic haze, Jane let the words wash over her without giving them much thought, but a little part of her fragmented conscious caught on.

"The ceremony will continue in the morning, if you wish it to. Depends how loyal you still are to that silly Order of yours."

The succubus watched Jane's eyes closely, grinning as she saw the first signs of concentration. A twitch of the eyebrow. Those green irises darting left and right as Jane repeated the words in her head.

"... What?" Jane mumbled, still not quite with it. It didn't help that her skin was still flushed and tingling and the sensation of a wet tongue lapping at her cunt still played gently between her legs.

"The Mortal Order, dear." The succubus confirmed. Jane's eyebrows furrowed in thought as she willed her mind to speed up.

"I thought it unusual that they would send only you, dear. Normally the Order is all about grand wars and glorious victory. A subtle sabotage is very strange."

"But that's when I realised." The succubus placed a hand soothingly on Jane's shoulder. It felt amazing. "The Order didn't command you to do this, did they, dear?"

Jane looked away awkwardly.

"Hmmm, naughty, naughty..." The succubus tapped her fingers along Jane's shoulder. "Maybe it would've worked, if only I were as pure as the moon. Instead, I'm hot as the sun. And now I'm in your poor, confused little head, dear."

Jane shifted side to side, glancing up at the succubus' face before quickly flicking her gaze away. She didn't want to believe the succubus.

"The other three girls are probably sleeping by now, waiting for their big day."

The succubus' fingers stopped tapping as Jane's eyes widened at the realisation. The sacrificial ceremony had never required her to be aroused. None of this had to happen. The succubus merely wanted to toy with her. Somehow, the thought made her feel hotter. She'd been used.

"Fortunately for you, your display has left me feeling rather like the moon itself. I'm going to give you a choice, dear."

Jane collected herself enough to raise her chin and look the demon in the fiery depths of her eyes.

"I could go back down on you, kiss you... pierce you. It's a promise that what I have showed you is little compared to what your mortal body can feel. Maybe you'd end up wanting to complete the ceremony, knowing what you summon would make others feel as wonderful."

"Or..." The succubus gestured to the door. "It's not locked, dear. I won't stop you. The cult will, of course, but you wouldn't be so weak as to let a little pleasure ruin your skills now, would you?"

Jane crept up from the sheets of the bed, holding herself steady as she stood. Cautiously, she began to make her way towards the door.

"Maybe we'll meet again, dear." The succubus continued, staring not at Jane but outside, through the window, where the sun had now fully set. "I do hope so."

The succubus never heard the door open or close, but she knew Jane had left. What a fun toy the little Order girl had been. The cult would be furious, no doubt, that she had interrupted their game, but the cult could never stay angry at her for long.

Smiling to herself, the succubus looked to the future. Jane would never be able to go back to living as she previously had. They never could. The very thought of it was more arousing to her than anything else.

She couldn't wait to see her again.