“Miss, please, I’m close…”
She let go of my cock like it bit her. “Oh, no, it’s not time for that yet. Not until I get off again, at least.” She reached down to her cunt and rubbed it with her fingers until they were slick with her juice, used it to lubricate my glans, and fed it back through the pillory. “This thing has some features I was going to save for another time, but I think you’ve earned it.” She looked at me and winked. “Check this out!” She clicked something on the rod and I felt spikes pop out of the inside diameter of the ring. I couldn’t tell if they were sharp enough to break skin, but almost any movement was sharply uncomfortable.
“Ok, how about now?” She adjusted something and I felt the spikes multiply, shrinking as they grew inside the ring until it felt like my dick was being held gently by a handful of broken glass, nothing cutting, but on the bleeding edge of it. She must have seen my eyes go wide because she dialed it back down to the original setting.
“You didn’t like the ‘getting blown by a lamprey’ setting, huh?” She laughed and pushed back a little and regarded me thoughtfully. “Hmm, you’re too tall for the room this way. On your knees!” I looked at her helplessly.
“Miss, my cock, you’ve got it trapped – it won’t stretch that long if I kneel.”
She slapped me across the face for the second time, harder this time. My cheek burned.
“I didn’t ask if it would be comfortable, I said KNEEL!” I bit my lip and whimpered a bit as I used my hands to push off from the ceiling, sure that the ring that had my cock in its teeth was going to end up biting it off. As I sank and my cock hit the limit of its range of motion without the ring clamping down, Claire put a single finger on the top of the pillory and it began to sink into the floor to match me. After a couple seconds, she lifted her finger and laughed as the mechanism stopped, but I kept going, unable to stop in time, making the ring close with its spikes extended into the flesh of my already sore cock. I yelped, but she put her finger back and the descent once again matched my movement. When my knees hit the floor, she let it go and the rod froze, holding my cock, and the rest of me attached to it, at a kneeling height from the floor.
She straightened up and stepped gracefully over my shoulders, sitting down and coming to rest with her inflamed sex right in front of my face. She grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head back to look me in the eyes.
“Eat my pussy, slut. Make me come like that again.” She pushed my face into her pussy and I attacked it with wild abandon, like a starving man. I used my hands to cup her ass and roll her hips forward. My spread fingers squeezed her muscular cheeks and spread her open, my fingers questing inward to find the hot wet flesh within. Finding my target, I circled the pucker of her anus, hot to the touch, and she bucked on my shoulders, causing my body to jerk and the pillory to snap down my dickhead again. I groaned with the pain into her, which seemed to turn her on more. I kept licking and as I got her closer and closer, her gyrations became more wild and I gave up on trying to keep my dick unclamped. I let it bite down while I did my best to get her off, hopefully earning my release.
She came again, hard, digging her hands into my hair and bucking her mons against my face, mashing my nose against the stripe of pubic hair there while her body tensed and convulsed. I had been just about to beg for mercy, so as she let me go, distracted by her second orgasm, I returned to my original kneeling position, gasping as the ring let off. I expected instant relief, but the blood flowing back into the skin under the points hurt as much coming in as it did going out. I breathed hard and waited for her to recover. After a minute, she pulled herself back to me, kissed me hard on the mouth and reached down to release my cock.
She released the ring and gently caressed my cock and balls while shifting around behind me. She pulled the pillory’s rod out of the ground and set it to float gently against the near wall. Still stroking with the other hand, she pushed me forward until my forehead was resting on the padded floor. With my ankles still locked to the points on the floor, I was spread and vulnerable, my balls and cock floating underneath me. I heard her get up and fiddle with something, but I was grateful for a moment of rest so I stayed in position with my forearms on the floor above my head. My hands found a grab bar there that I would swear hadn’t existed a second ago. The succubus ride was still going, scintillating sensations swirling over my sweaty skin. I felt her clip something onto the ring fastened around my balls and tug a few times. The nature of the tugging felt like she had my balls on a leash in her hand, and as I turned my head to look over my shoulder I saw I was right.
“Ok boy, one more test, and then you can come. How good that is for you depends on how well you do here. How many do you think you can take?”
“How many what?” I asked.
By way of answering, she kicked my collared balls, smashing them against my body. It hurt like hell, but somehow had a different texture to it than her slapping hands or the crop had. The weight behind her foot’s impact and the larger area of contact added a depth, a body, a fullness, to the pain I hadn’t felt before with paddles or slappers.
“How many of those,” she laughed, and snapped her foot into my balls again, forcing a bark of pain out of me. “And that one was for not calling me Miss Bitch. Remember the rules, they’re very simple. Obey, or get punished. Now, how many are you willing to take? 5 and I’ll jerk you off and ruin your orgasm. 10 and I get you off, full orgasm, no tricks. 20, and I’ll give you the grand finale you’ll never forget.” I was already sure I wouldn’t ever forget this evening, post-high effects of the succubus willing, but I didn’t have to think about my answer.
“20, I’ll do 20. I can take them, Miss Bitch.”
“That’s what I like to hear, good boy. Good slut. Hook your arms under that bar so you don’t float off on me. Good. Now, count them out loud, starting from one.”
KICK – “MMF! One”
KICK – “…Two”
KICK – “Three…”
Five kicks in and it felt like my balls weighed 20 pounds, despite the zero g. A deep ache was starting to swirl in my gut. At 10, it felt like they were burning and the pit had become a tangible thing. My cock was still as hard as ever though, and would slap up against my stomach with the force of her kicks. At 15, I was starting to doubt my resolve, and my sanity. The pain was loud now, and actually drowned out the music in a fog of aural static and my own heartbeat, ears ringing. If I’m being totally honest, I don’t really remember what went through my mind after that, but after a final, extra powerful 20th strike I moaned out the count to the sound of her laughing congratulations.
I pulled myself back to kneeling while she unclipped my ankles. I cupped my balls in my hands, moaning. I hadn’t had the chance to examine them since this had started, and now that I was, I hardly recognized them. Purple, with some small welts from the crop and her nails, my sack looked like it had lost a fight. I guess it had, really. My nuts themselves were swollen to what felt like twice the size, and tender as I rolled them between my fingers. I felt hers join mine from behind and she gave them a little squeeze, causing me to jump. Untethered, I drifted into the center of the room where she joined me and grabbed the bottle of lube that was still floating nearby.
“So, are you ready to finally cum? I torture your balls enough yet?” She laughed and began working the lube over me, its warming properties soothing the inflamed skin.
“Please Miss Bitch, you’ve got me on the point of bursting a seam here!” My cock twitched in her hand unasked, as if to emphasize the point.
Grinning in her crooked way, she started guiding me to a corner of the room that was simultaneously extruding a cube, clearly meant as a chair, from the junction of the two walls and what would normally be the ceiling. I felt flipped over for a second but got over it as my perception adjusted itself. I settled into the soft padding of the chair and linked my arms into the rails that presented themselves at shoulder height on the walls to either side. Before I was even settled in fully, her hands were going to work pumping my cock and gently tugging my balls. I closed my head and relaxed into the final throes of the succubus, enjoying the waves of pleasure she was causing to wash over me.
With my head thrown back, I didn’t see it as she lowered her mouth to my cock and started sucking the head, tongue stud massaging my frenulum as she worked the coronal ridge in and out of her mouth, making a popping sound when she broke suction. I’ve had some excellent head in my time, but Claire took me from the pits of Hell to the pavilion of God, and the distance across that gulf made the pleasure she was giving me indescribable. I looked back down to watch her work and ran my hand along the side of her face, caressing her hair and cradling the back of her head. She looked up at me and winked, then without taking her mouth off began pumping my cock harder with her hand, swirling her tongue around my glans, and tugging and squeezing my balls gently.
She did all this without breaking eye contact or her rhythm, and I knew I was dealing with a true professional. She held my gaze, moaning on my cock a little as my orgasm approached and my hips bucked, until I broke off, throwing my head back as felt the pressure boil up in my balls and I knew there was no turning back. She sensed the timing as the first shot tensed inside and squeezed my balls again firmly. I gasped, but it felt like she had just doubled the flow inside me. I exploded into her mouth and she backed off, still pumping with her hand, as my cock shot rope after rope of cum to pool, wobbling, in the air. I was still going as she came up to kiss me, her mouth tasting of cock and semen and sex.
She pumped my cock a few times, squeezing out the last of my cum. She grabbed the drifting globules in her hand, and, grinning, smeared it across my face, forcing her spunk-covered fingers into my mouth.
“Swallow it. All my boys swallow their own.” I complied without question. Her smile widened. “Good. Good boy.”
I knew I’d be grossed out in a minute, but right then, with my balls drained, dick still twitching, the succubus at a pleasant background roar, the smell of sex and pussy and cum all over me, I felt completely at peace. A state of perfect no-mind. I let out a deep sigh of satisfaction and sat there, breathing, for a minute while she moved across the room.
“Here, catch.” I opened my eyes to look, and she tossed me a water bulb and a nicotine vape. “Plain water, I promise.” That wicked little grin again. “And you look like you need a smoke.”
“Oh, is this aftercare? Usually I just run to the showers as fast as I can and hope no one can sense my shame.” I chuckled, and thankfully, so did she. I toasted her with the bulb and greedily sucked half of it down. True to her word, the water tasted normal, at least normal for water on the Cartouche. I took a drag on the vape and exhaled cinnamon vapor, the nicotine buzz amplified and improved by the dregs of the succubus.
“Come join me in a second.” She touched a portion of the wall purposefully and the room changed, morphing into the dim light and deep green plush of her massage room settings. A door I hadn’t been able to see before appeared opposite the one I’d come in. She went in and I heard the sounds of a shower. Her harness outfit drifted out the door, looking like a BDSM lobster trap absent her body to fill it out. The stupid part of my brain thought “Oh shit, she’s naked in there!” as if I hadn’t just spent half of the last 90 minutes with my nose buried in her ass. I got up and followed her lead, shedding the various artifacts of bondage she’d put on me, and left them floating with her outfit. The room had a small ensuite attached, complete with a roomier than ship-average shower stall.
Black Ice might skimp on some of the other comforts, but they spend well on the Hospitality contract to get the best facilities. Claire was already in there, soaping herself in the stream of water and warm air that passed for a shower in zero g. I slipped into the stall as well, and announcing my presence by helping to spread the suds across her toned back. She looked back at me coyly and wiggled her ass. It’s hard to talk in a low-g shower, since there’s no way to get out from under the stream of hot water blowing from the ceiling, and floating soap easily gets in your mouth. I took the wiggle as approval to continue and started running my hands over the rest of her, appreciating the sleek lines and lean form of her body slick and gleaming in the dim light. She returned the favor, washing the sweat and lube and cum off my body, delicately scrubbing our combined fluids off my face with a washcloth. The timer on the shower chimed, marking a final minute of water before the room’s ration ran out. When the water shut off, the hot air blowers kicked into high gear, pushing the water off our bodies into the grate at our feet, the pressure actually feeling like weak gravity for a second before it shut off.
We bobbed out of the stall and I made my way to the sink to rinse out my mouth. I took a second to look in the mirror, enjoying the red stripes her nails had left across my chest, the small welts on my stomach, and the reddish purple engorged state of my spent cock. I was sure there would be bruises later, but for now it felt like a trophy. I watched her from the mirror over the sink, sucking water from the sink’s tube, as her nude form moved gracefully over to a bag secured to the wall by the door. She got a little black kit out and came back over to me by the sink.
“Hey, I’ve got one more thing for you, turn around.” I spit into the vactube and spun. She dropped down, her face even with my cock.
“Woah, I’m gonna need some time to recharge first”, I said with a grin.
“Shut up. Just be quiet and let me work for a sec, it’ll be painless.” She looked back down to the kit in her hand and opened it to reveal an old style metal razor and a knurled chrome cylinder I couldn’t identify. I figured we were still on the clock, so I obeyed and held my tongue while she applied lotion and shaved a 3cm square area clean above my cock, then sat back and fiddled with the cylinder, adjusting the settings via a small round screen set into one end. Satisfied, she clicked one of the control studs and it started buzzing. She moved it to hover over the clear patch and began moving it back and forth, hovering a few millimeters above. I couldn’t really see anything besides the top of her head, but I let her finish whatever it was she was doing. Finally, she pushed back and surveyed her work, seeming to like the results.
“Ok, go ahead and take a look in the mirror.” I spun myself around and looked, squinting a little. She had tattooed a stylized black widow in the square she’d cleared, complete with the red hourglass. “Just a static tat, I promise. I like to put my mark on my clients, like I’m signing my work. Keep your shit trimmed by the way, I want to be able to see that in the future.”
I probed the spider with my fingers, but there was no sensation of pain or redness. Mentally, I was doing cartwheels at the mention of future sessions and the idea of being marked by Claire. I saw my cheeks flush in the mirror, but I’m blaming that on the last wave of the succubus washing over me.
“Ha, I uh, I love it, thank you. Thank you mistress.” She had taken off the choker before getting in the shower, I figured I’d leave the bitch thing out of it unless she was wearing it. She blessed me with another one of her crooked grins and we went back out into the main room of the suite to get dressed. The room had reverted to standard, and I could see all the normal room fixtures on the walls. I went to the bin I had stowed my clothes in and pulled them out, quickly sliding back into my underwear and jumpsuit, pushing my feet into the rubber-soled socks that served as shoes in an environment that didn’t discriminate between floor, wall, or ceiling.
She was packing the last of her gear back into its recess as I came over. She pulled the door shut and locked it with a fingerprint scan.
“When can we do this again?” I asked, maybe too eagerly.
“Well, I really wanted to blow your mind today, so this“ holding up a vial of pale pink liquid that I took to be the succubus, “will be special occasions only. Plus it’s expensive as fuck, and it fries your pleasure centers and nerve endings if you take it too often. But this,” she gestured broadly around the room “this we can do anytime. Just schedule a time and put a spider emoji in the notes. It’ll be our little code.”
She had opened another bin and taken out a bundle of clothes while she was talking, and now she paused to slip on black silk panties and a tank top before stepping through the legs of her jumpsuit. I wasn’t really sure what the etiquette here was. It seemed rude to just leave, but I felt like I was lingering. She was a pro, after all, not my girlfriend, but the intimacy we had just shared left me confused in this liminal moment. I cleared my throat and made to move for the door, but she grabbed my arm and stopped me.
“Where do you think you’re going? We’re still on the clock.”
“I wasn’t sure what protocol was, sorry.” She smiled and gently tapped my cheek.
“Sorry Miss, you mean. What am I going to do with you?” She shook her head chidingly.
“I want you to hold onto something for me until our next session.” My heart thrilled at the word next. “Well, I guess it’ll hold onto you, now that I say that.” She pressed the cool, surprisingly heavy ring of smartmatter from the pillory into my hand. “Put it on now and don’t take it off, I’ll control it from my end. Just a little tease between sessions.” I wasn’t really sure what she meant, but I lowered my fly and fished out my penis, now looking very docile and positively sleepy. I slipped the ring on and it tightened down to sit just behind my cockhead again. It was snug, but not painful or overly tight. I was thankful she hadn’t turned the spikes back on again.
“OK, now you can go. Go nurse those swollen balls and think of me.” We embraced briefly and I took a last inhale of her scent, the smell of sex still lingering in her hair despite the shower. She pecked me on the cheek and pushed me playfully towards the door, slapping my ass when I turned my back. I looked at her over my shoulder in mock outrage, and she winked and did a little wave as I kicked out of the room.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/m9yh8t/a_spider_named_claire_encounter_1_succubus_part