*This story is written (by me) as part of the “image inspiration chapters” story on chyoa.com*
In Carry’s home town there was an ephemeral shop. Its owners would lease the place to several small businesses in succession, each for a period of a few months. In this way the same store could cycle through a hairdresser, a bakery, a pharmacy and more all in the same year. Today on the way to work, Carry saw that the ephemeral shop was now being run by an antiques dealer. He loved antiques, so on the way home that evening, he stopped by.
It was impressive how each new leased shop keeper was able to make the store their own, as if it had always been so. This time was no different, it looked as though all the mass of stuff inside had naturally accumulated over years of collection, yet not a week ago the same space had been dedicated to a manicurist. Vintage irons by the dozen, trays full of old pearly rosaries, massive stacks of women’s fashion magazines from the twenties, ornately decorated mirrors, coins of the defunct currency, glassware, old tools, at least one vintage Singer sewing machine, an enormous oak clothes cabinet and more all but saturated the space inside.
It was an old lava lamp that caught Carry’s eye. The object reminded him of how he used to stare at the rising and descending shapes in the one at his parents’ as a child. Yet this one was quite odd, much more elaborate than the classic space rocket style of the popular ones. Although very simplified, it’s stainless steel base resembled the hoofed foot of a goat, and the inside of the glass was shaped so that the wax would expand into a sort of fluid sculpture. Without turning it on he couldn’t discern what that sculpture was supposed to represent.
Carry found the antiques dealer. The old fellow knew no more than him about the shape inside the glass. He wanted no more than two gold pieces for it. “That’s a steal if I ever saw one…” Carry remarked to himself, remembering the prices he’d seen online for a new one, even the exact same basic model as that of his parents. Five minutes later he walked back outside with a jolly (but delicate) bounce in his step, holding his peculiar bounty in both hands.
First thing on arriving home, he unpacked the lamp from the dealer’s semi-improvised packaging, and began seeking a convenient spot to test it. His flat-mate Riley was in the living room, reading; she looked up to throw the usual greeting at him, but instead said “Still don’t have enough knick-knacks then?”
“I dunno if it even works, honestly,” Carry said, settling the lamp on the end of a bookshelf by the telly. Sinking the plug into the nearest socket he said “But the price was too good – ah, there we go!”
A bright light snapped on inside the goat’s hoof base, and the wax in the bottom glowed bright red. All that remained was to wait, and see. “Cuppa?” Carry asked Riley.
“Definitely,” she said.
Bringing two mugs of black tea and a heap of biscuits Carry settled in an armchair opposite his flat-mate, and lazily occupied his brain with the crosswords in the newspaper. Outside, the sun gently sank from its late afternoon spot in the sky. It’s light across town and through the window turned from white to orange before painting the clouds all around in every shade of pink as it touched the horizon. Riley absently reached over and switched on a small light over the couch to continue reading. Carry dozed, peacefully. Meanwhile the wax on the other side of the room warmed, slowly. Leisurely its mass swelled upwards. Periodically, ragged arms erupted upwards beginning to fill the strange shape inside the glass, only to freeze into place since the liquid in the upper half of the bottle was not hot enough yet. Each time the protuberances sluggishly sagged back down into the bottom as though in defeat.
After a while Carry shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He looked to Riley, still nose down in her book. “Is the heating on?” he asked, “Feel it’s a bit stuffy in here.”
The young woman shrugged, “Haven’t touched it,” she said.
“Better go check,” Carry said, rising. He stripped out of his cardigan, letting it flop into the armchair. About to make for the hallway he stopped, exclaiming “Hey look, it’s working!”
Riley put down her reading at last and approached. She started, eyebrows jumping up in surprise, “Ooh kinky,” she chuckled.
Indeed the wax was now fully liquefied, and the temperature inside the bottle was high enough for it to rise and fall without solidifying towards the top. And in that complex glass cavity there appeared a naked female figure, in a pose suggesting the swaying of her hips to some unheard music to which the very texture and colour of her body danced as hotter and cooler wax moved across it. “Lovely,” Carry said, and left the room.
On the way up the stairs to the bathroom he heard Riley remark “Wow she’s even got horns and a tail…”
The central heating box showed no sign of active heating in the apartment, and the hot water wasn’t even on. Yet even up here, with the boiler cool to the touch, it felt just as hot as in the living room. Carry checked the nearest radiator just in case, but it was also not hot. Frowning, and still hotter than he liked, he wandered back downstairs, unbuttoning his shirt.
Looking ahead, he saw the light from the living room change. The coat stand and Riley’s shined shoes in the hallway reflected red now, as though the lava lamp was overwhelming the little reading light over the couch. At that moment a voice spoke.
“Ah, I sense another one…” the words Carry felt, as much as heard, like they were reverberating through the ether itself, “Come to me.
“It was a deep, feminine voice, and although rich and full, he felt it carried the weight of an unimaginable age. Still not around the bend, a sense of dread overtook him, he could sense the coming moment he would come face to face with a being, whatever it may be, that should only ever appear to mortal eyes safe within the bounds of fiction, like one of Riley’s novels. Still, irresistible was the command to approach, and his feet carried him the rest of the way down the steps regardless Carry’s better judgement. He entered the living room.
How sublimely beautiful, how dazzlingly magnificent and in every detail exquisite could a perfectly formed woman be while yet in every pore, in every atom betray a wrongness intimate to her nature was demonstrated in the at once nightmarish and fantastically desirable creature now reclining on the couch. Riley and itself were both naked, clothes of the former strewn about the floor some of them ripped to shreds, while his flat-mate knelt between full, blood-red thighs her face buried in soft fleshy folds while she frantically fingered her own pussy at the same time.
In Carry’s final flash of rational thought he understood himself to be staring at his doom, a monster void of the human spark, here fueled by and to feed on pure bestial lust. Yet within its glowing yellow eyes burned a fierce intelligence, and he recognized unbridled sadism in its fang-toothed smile when it beckoned to him. His insides churned and he felt the freezing bite of terror even as the air on his skin warmed more and more.
“Yes,” the voice told him while a forked tongue lazily glided over the creature’s crimson lips, “You will feed me thus until you die.”
Although overwhelmed, his will subsumed completely, Carry remained aware a while longer. He unbuttoned the rest of the way down his shirt and shook himself free of the fabric, he unzipped his trousers and let them drop, shoving his boxers along with them before moving forward, all the while staring into the infernal gaze of the monster. One fiery glance at his cock and he felt it swell to life almost instantly, at last wiping out the last remnant of fear in a crashing wave of seething primal passion. He lunged forward and his arms found Riley’s naked body. He grabbed her narrow waist and pulled her from the couch, dropping to his knees ready to penetrate her then and there.
“Not like that,” the voice resonated in his core, “Lie down, let her climb atop you that I may watch.”
As though not to leave him a choice, Riley spun around and grabbed Carry herself. Her irises shined a sickly green hue, and there was a pained twist in her lip as what remained of her humanity still writhed under the surface. Animated by that indescribable, ancient and malignant will she guided him over to and onto the couch. She let herself fall onto him, sliding her lithe little body against his wider frame. He palmed her butt cheeks, squeezing them apart. Behind her, clawed hands gripped his cock.
“Rise, girl,” commanded the monster, “Let his and my eyes feast on the sight.”
[https://i.imgur.com/6rqbrVJ.png](https://i.imgur.com/6rqbrVJ.png)
Riley lifted herself to a squatting position, her cunt was soaking wet, ready. Carry watched, transfixed at the point of contact, saw his cock push apart, and disappear in between his flat-mate’s pussy lips. He felt himself bottom out inside her tight hole and her buttocks came to rest on his thighs. He moaned, she whimpered, the both of them in the throes of pleasure alien to them in its intensity. In that final moment, the last that he knowingly perceived, feeling, seeing and hearing all at once so powerful was the phenomenon came that world shattering, ether ripping roar of the monster in its awful moment of triumph and glee, free at last to once more unleash its unspeakable passion upon the universe.
**
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/zyjcbm/the_molten_wax_succubus_mf_m23_f23_f1000_bi_mind