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Rated: XGC · Poetry · Supernatural · #1514399
The succubus - she is her father's daughter...
Instinct

In the fading sunlight, the boy approaches on a dare.
The results of his actions, though he is unaware,
will reach far beyond the grave that he will defile.
Random stripes of spray paint form images quite vile
as though his hands were guided from somewhere beyond.

This had started as a challenge, in his mind a joke,
but unbeknownst to him, his painted charms awoke
something not of this world.  Something from the past
that had been asleep but now the die was cast.
Deep within the earth, the devil’s child was spawned.

In the dark, awareness seeps into consciousness
as a growing hunger heightens every sense.
Deep within a chamber she has slept protected
away from all harm.  She remains unaffected
by the superficial concerns of the world.

Now she is once more awake.  Life flows in her veins
as she stretches languidly, breaking the last chains
of the temporary death that passes for her sleep.
Deep within her, memories begin to slowly creep
until her purpose lies before her unfurled.

Even in the blackness, her vision notes detail
as she walks the passageway, following the trail
of worn stones that lead her toward her goal
of renewal once more. Unencumbered by a soul,
her instincts call.  She has no choice but answer.

She stands before a door, inscribed in ancient text.
She touches runes randomly, seemingly perplexed,
until, by spell or magic, light she begins to see
as the pathway opens and once more she is free
to go forth and spread her darkness like a cancer.

A scent of passion drifts lightly on the evening air
making her pupils dilate and her nostrils flare.
A clawing hunger stirs and is now awake
but more than simple flesh, she’s driven to partake
of rituals inscribed in her blood and essence.

Her nature leads her onward to a darkened place
where a man and woman are lost in love's embrace.
The pleasure sounds float hauntingly, growing ever higher
and ignite within her heart a responding fire
that’s brighter than the rising moon’s luminescence.

Following the noises, she peers through a shadowed veil
and sees a couple entwined as she notes each detail.
His hands upon her body, how he feels the rising heat
as he lowers his mouth intimately and begins to eat
of her passion and her pleasure amidst the rising sounds.

In a shuddering explosion, the woman finds her peak
and now the man begins his own pleasure to seek.
He enters her with forcefulness, driven by his need
and as he drives in deeper to release his seed
the watcher feels the rhythm as her own heart pounds. 

Bloodlust sharpens her own need and flows within her veins.
With no thought of self, she crashes through the window’s panes.
Wildly, teeth rip flesh until the woman’s down
painting death’s artwork with life’s liquid on the ground.
Her victim’s eyes dim with mouth open in a silent scream.

Remaining passion fragments take on a ferrous tinge
as they mix with steaming blood resulting from her binge.
Like an aphrodisiac, her rage is turned to lust
and she turns upon the man as instinct says she must.
He slowly regains senses and feels horror at the scene.

Her mesmerizing stare makes him putty in her hands
and she begins to lick him from his head down to his glans.
He cannot help himself.  It’s like his soul’s possessed
and he patiently awaits as she gets undressed,
her body gleaming softly in the tainted light.

Her body’s pale, as each obsidian vein upon her skin
forms a pattern calling up the necromancy within.
He breasts are full, the nipples taut and glowing red,
as she leads him by the hand to the blood soaked bed
there to feed upon him much to her delight.

They lay amidst the gore, the carnage now unnoticed,
as they come together, their lips and bodies kissed.
He doesn’t notice that her touch is cold as ice
as she holds him in her grip and continues to entice.
Her need for life’s own force now controls her every action.

Like animals they grapple, consumed with darkest passion.
With teeth and hands and lips, they join in every fashion.
She mounts him from above and moves to fill her need
and they twist in frenzied motion until she feels his seed
hotly fill her void. She slowly smiles in satisfaction.

She feels the life force fill her from his ejaculation
and her body, quivering, responds in celebration.
Filled, her inner thirst has now been fully quenched
and as she pauses for a moment, she is drenched
from the efforts that are fading from her short recall.

As a final act, she rips his throat and in his dying spasm
she moves once more upon him, reaching her orgasm.
She goes to leave but sees her reflection in a mirrored wall.
Her seductive smile, her perfect body, her innate siren’s call.
The ancient stories of the Succubus are not legend after all.

Though stained with sanguine streaks, she’s not in any rush
as she moves through the night.  Around her all is hush.
She senses others in the dark but ignores them with disdain.
She has fulfilled her destiny…
                                        … until her father calls again.



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An entry for Round 11 of "Kit's Higher Ratings Contest
Prompt: Open
Line Count: 95
Word Count: 970

In case you're wondering, the rhyme scheme is aabbc ddeec.

*BookOpen* Succubus - A succubus is a demon who takes the form of a beautiful woman to seduce men to have sexual intercourse according to the medieval European legend. They draw energy from the men to sustain themselves, often until the point of exhaustion or death of the victim.
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