“Lilith of Növekedés, why do you invoke my name?” she asked, appearing in the bark of the tree. Her lovat skin was clothed only in the dark green leaves and purple petals of alien plants.
“Veronestra, Archfey of Fertile Beauty, Goddess of nymph and dryad, I invite you from afar in the hope of kindling your aid,” I said, throwing myself prone before her. My breasts pressed into the tilled ground at the edge of the farm I grew up on, enriched by the recent flood that had only just receded.
I was naked, as I had always been. As most other fiends I knew had always been, until the war, when the mortals came in their leather and cloth and metal skins. Until my mother broke her promise and never returned home.
The being I had conjured did not respond so I raised myself enough to behold her again. Her plant clothing had peeled away, her jealousy not allowing her to be more modest than I. I saw her dual sex for the first time. A member for plowing and a cleft to be sown. It was an arrangement I could form myself if I wished, but I liked my flower.
From what I had been able to learn of her she was a being of lust as well, just not for carnality itself or for any ability to draw the soul of another through that lust. Veronestra was an avatar of growth and renewal, of love and seed, of birth and life.
“What aid do you seek?” she said, stepping out of the bark of the Styxwillow tree I had chosen for the summoning.
“My Goddess, the mor-”
“Who are you to call me your Goddess, here on the banks of the river of fiends?” she demanded.
“I beg forgiveness, oh Fertile Beauty. I am lust incarnate and even here far from you I feel a kinship for your lovely children, the dryads and nymphs of the fey. If this is a presumption, then call it a dream instead, and one that I would strive for as a humble servant of you, Goddess.” I maintained my pose, knees beneath me, breasts to the soil, neck craning up yet still failing to properly behold her, my plump posterior raised high because I could only bend so much. From here I could only see her up to her abdomen, but that was all I needed for my slit to slicken.
“You have a rare taste in beauty then, for a fiend. A rare and discriminating taste indeed. Continue.”
“The mortals have invaded my home. They’ve occupied Avernus and Dis. They killed my mother and they lord over my father as if they deserve our obedience. I ask for revenge on them. I ask for the power to be more than a farmer’s daughter. I ask you to help me break their grip on the hells, my home, and in doing so weaken their threat to the fey as well!”
The Archfey began to circle me, and instead of trying to keep her in my sight I simply held my painful obeisance and let her inspect me.
“What do you offer in exchange?” she asked from directly behind me.
“All my life I have tilled and sown this land, and while some might call it inhospitable to a grace such as yours I call it home. I would do your bidding, Goddess. I would cultivate your blessing here as I work to free it from the mortal tyranny, as freedom without beauty would be a pyrrhic victory indeed.”
“My blessing would be wasted here. All that is green will not grow, and my grass and flower of indigo would take root only briefly before being wiped out by the imps and lemures of the hells. Your offer is paltry, fiend.” I felt a warm breeze on my bare folds behind me. Her breath? I whimpered as she said, “Make a better one.”
I swallowed hard, tears leapt unbidden to my eyes, and my petals wept in their own way as I felt moisture drip down my raised thighs. It felt as if my feeble attempt to placate a goddess, my only defense against her desires, lay in shattered pieces around me as I lay in her tilled soil with the entrance to my womb presented proudly for her to inspect. At twenty-one turns I had only just come into myself as a woman grown. Less than a Turn before I had experienced lovemaking for the first time, and although I had known it in theory I was delighted to discover that I was built for pleasure.
As a succubus, if one of my devil lovers spilled themselves within me I could simply will it not to take root. It was not an easy thing to be a mother. Nor was it trifling to conceive and birth children. Even with my hardy infernal fortitude I knew it would be an unwieldy process to say the least, so I had no particular desire to do so. Would I be a good mother? For one thing, I knew I would keep my promises to my children, and if that was the extent of my ability then I would be good enough.
But I knew I had committed myself when I invoked Veronestra’s rites. My interest in motherhood or lack thereof was secondary to the patronage I hoped for. If I wanted the power to take revenge, the Goddess of Pollen and Ovum, Archfey of Fertile Beauty, would want only one part of me.
“I offe-”
I was trembling too hard, unable to speak. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to do it. I had to pull myself together. One shaky breath later, I said, “I offer myself, my body, my womb.”
Her breath caressed the part of me in question as she said, “Your womb is my divine domain, girl. What do you offer that I do not have already?”
“I offer you the use of it, to satisfy your lust, fulfill your will, and spread your beauty. I will bear your seed and bring new children forth into the universe as an act of worship to you, my Goddess.”
Gently, completing her circuit around my prone, submissive form, Veronestra said, “I refuse your offering. You are too young and too scared. A woman grown you may be, but life and its conception is to be lived and savored, not traded away so new. There may come a time when we strike a bargain for my use of your resplendent fecundity, and a joyous day that will be, but you should have a chance to relish it yourself first. Presently I have other plans for you, and lesser needs to satisfy than a proper mating. Rise now. To your knees in front of me.”
I did as I was bid. Finally able to properly behold the deity before me, the first thing I noticed was her stature. Even on my knees I came up to her breasts, her stamen and pistil quite below my immediate eyeline. My pleading face basked up in the light of her gaze as I awaited her decision. She had rejected my offer to be bred, and I was simultaneously heartbroken, relieved, and offended. I was not without pride. But I had not yet failed. I begged her with my eyes to find some sort of compromise.
Veronestra, Archfey of Fertile Beauty, Goddess of nymph and dryad, reached down and took my chin with her hand. The power of her magic flowing into my soul was akin to a mortal having a funnel shoved into their mouth then pouring ambrosia in. My already aroused flower clenched as I immediately climaxed from her touch alone. My entire being urged me to mate, to receive essence and bear its fruit. And somehow the manner of this divine peak forced my mind to be fully lucid. As I shuddered from the pleasure of contact with my Goddess, I understood her words perfectly.
“I will give you the power to be more than a farmer’s daughter. In exchange, I will be your Mistress. You will obey me, serve me, pleasure me, receive me, and be owned by me. Do you accept?”
I could earn her power without having to grow gravid with her young! I needed only to submit to her as Mistress. When her touch was pleasure made pure, it was an easy decision.
I gazed up at the face of a deity, her alien green skin, her fey features strangely slanted and almost insectoid despite their softness, her pendulous breasts that seemed full and ripe. Her member and her slit, both achingly far from my mouth. The image of my new liege, above me as she should be. It was becoming difficult to stay upright on my knees as I continued to ride my orgasm at her touch, but one urge fortified me: I needed her cum. “I accept, Beautiful Mistress. I will obey you, serve you, pleasure you, receive you, and be yours.”
“Then prove your devotion to our pact and receive your blessing.”
She slid her thumb into my gaping mouth, then pulled me down to position her member at my lips. Even in my state of seemingly eternal bliss, I was still a succubus. I knew what to do by reflex. I brought my tongue to the head of her rod and began to fellatiate the Archfey of Fertile Beauty. Every instinct was to become full of her essence and I couldn’t have resisted the urge for anything.
It took no time at all for my bobbing head, tender tongue, and sucking lips to have Veronestra rocking her hips into me. The hand from my chin had already slid to the back of my head to guide me but the other gripped one of my horns to hold me steady so she could fuck my mouth.
“I do not ask anything in exchange for your revenge. Its manifestation is my goal as well.” I don’t know how she was able to keep my mind from burning out in the constant state of orgasm, but I was both aware and able to remember her words vividly. As she neared her own completion she told me what I must do.
“You will travel to the mortal world. In the capital city there you will find the Emperor that commanded the invasion of your home, and you will kill him. Now let me fill you.”
Then Veronestra, my Mistress, my Patron of Power, Archfey and Goddess, pulled my face against her until my nose pressed to her abdomen. In a torrent that shot directly into my throat I received her divine cum, drinking greedily. When I could not keep pace I tasted salt and honey, and it filled me in a manner both physical and occult. Her climax continued for far longer than any mortal or fiend ever could, and after a minute of constant swallowing my need for breath was too strong. I choked, jism erupting from my nose and the now broken seal of my lips around her. Still I held my place, obeying her command to let her fill me.
A feeling that was entirely new to me began spreading in my stomach, difficult to notice through the burning of my neglected lungs and abused throat but definitely there. The power of my pact was now nestled deep within me.
When the last spurt was milked from her Veronestra relaxed her grip on my head and horn. I gasped for air.
“My seed is sacred, you will not waste it,” she said warningly.
“Yes Mistress!” I wheezed, my chest heaving, before I suckled her clean. The remnants of my blue lipstick encircling the base of her member was a sight that gave me a visceral pride: I could pleasure a goddess to the point of release. My skill was such that I could satisfy the divine. I couldn’t help the giddy smile that broke across my cum-streaked face.
I collected the white ropes across my face and breasts and licked them off my fingers. Below me I was impressed with myself again, only a few drops of the torrent had fallen, but my Mistress had made it clear that they were not to be wasted either. I pressed my nipples into the fertile ground once again and licked the last of the prolific essence up, getting a mouth full of soil along with it. As I did I noticed how different my body was from the last time I had assumed the position, with my stomach bulging slightly out from the volume of fey cream I had received. The taste of dirt was unpleasant and my body already protested against how full I was, but once the last drop was in my mouth I felt the building pact-magic crescendo. It did so in a manner similar to an orgasm and yet entirely different, and it easily overwhelmed the terrible taste on my tongue.
“My pact and divinity will take root in you now. But as you have received me here,” she said, tracing her thumb across my blue lips, “and not your womb, its fruit shall be rather more ephemeral. Only its magic shall grow within you. That is how you shall bear my power. Wield it however you wish, but know our aims align with the death of the Emperor, and that I will be watching you with great interest. Go now, gravid with my seed and blessing, and I will teach you to be fruitful and multiply when you are ready.”
She broke contact with my skin and I crashed back down to hell like an erinyes with her wings cut. Fatigue like I had never experienced washed over me. I could hardly move, but I had sworn to obey, so I finished swallowing my meal of cum-stained dirt and rose onto trembling legs. Holding my swollen abdomen, I made my way back across the fields to my home, the epitome of a successful slut in every regard.
I had enough energy to obey my Mistress’s order, but once I reached the wrap-around porch of the house I collapsed onto the styxwillow planks and slept where I fell.
That had been the last straw for dad when he found me, exhausted from my debauchery to the point of unconsciousness. My crimson skin was sticky with arousal from nose to toes, both my own and another’s. My breasts and belly and knees and feet were caked with dirt from fucking in the field. My arms were held lovingly around a stomach stretched from within by copious amounts of seed. All in all, I looked like I had let a pack of hellhounds have their way with me. That’s the state I was in when he brought me to my room to recover.
When I woke up many hours later, he cried as he told me I was no longer welcome in his home.
———————————
This is an excerpt from chapter 4, Pact and Patron, of **Lilly Scapegrace, Temptress at Large**. It is a 21k word erotic adventure about a succubus out for revenge that can be found on [Questionable Questing](https://forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/lilly-scapegrace-temptress-at-large-dungeons-dragons.22041/) (signup required), [Archive of Our Own](https://archiveofourown.org/works/46743067), and [Hentai-Foundry](https://www.hentai-foundry.com/stories/user/ryanasmith94/64441/Lilly-Scapegrace-Temptress-at-Large). It is inspired by [cherry-gig](https://patreon.com/cherrygig)’s [amazing art](https://www.hentai-foundry.com/user/cherry-gig/profile) of their original character [Larissa](https://www.hentai-foundry.com/pictures/user/cherry-gig/814917/Honeypot—Larissa-Booty).
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/12yoglr/lilly_scapegrace_pact_and_patron_f20_intersex