The Succubus' For Better or For Worse Part 2 (Complete)

[Reif]

1/30/2010 Update: The contest remains open but I will be closing it tomorrow evening as I need to finish final writing plans. To date there have been no submissions and thus no winner. As previously stated if you would like to place an entry please send a PM to my account here.

Thank you
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Only slightly late, Part 2 of the Succubus Bride Trilogy is now available. The Succubus' For Better or For Worse picks up soon after the events of the first story and continues towards the dramatic conclusion of the The Succubus' Bride Trilogy in the The Succubus' Vows which is expected to be finished in late February or March.

As before, for those willing to invest a little time a detailed character driven piece of TG fiction awaits. For those new to the series I strongly recommend reading Part 1 first. As before italics are reserved for emphasis or song lyrics, parentheses denote sounds.

I am also pleased to present The Succubus Wedding Night v 2.0 which is an updated, reedited, expanded version of The Succubus' Wedding Night. This represents my "director's cut" of the story and reflects some changes that were made to aid continuity or resolve lingering questions, or in some cases were simply areas where I was unhappy with the original text. Most changes were made in Chapter 5 or the major TF scene.

Also as a reward for my loyal readers, I am including a contest that ties into the content of TSFBFW. There is an homage in the text of the story to a TG themed webcomic where my characters reenact a scene from said comic. The first person to correctly identify the scene and its source will win a cameo in "The Succubus' Vows" and I will include 1 page of TF/TG text on the winner's character or if the winner so desires their character may decline that and simply have a bit part to play in the story. Respondents should send me a PM to my Process/Forum account.

1/19/2010 - Contest is still open, noone has gotten it yet.

Regular fans please skip to the bottom of the post where the file attachments are located. As always feedback is encouraged and very greatly appreciated. If you want to see something in the final chapter let me know.

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For those who ABSOLUTELY refuse to read the plot or characterization of TSFBFW (BOO!!! HISSS!!!!) I am including the text of the TF scene below.

Are you sure I can't dissuade you? It will be ever so much fun...So much work wasted

CHAPTER 6

Werner knew he was dying. The cold, crushing feeling racing across his limbs, hammering at his ribs, pressing in on his mind heralded an end unfamiliar to him. The surges came ever, relentlessly faster bearing down on him like an unending series of dark tidal waves. Earlier, he had thought he could get through this miserable day but the cold, pressing masses had exploded exponentially in magnitude and frequency and already after only a scant moment of respite he could feel another cold, enveloping wave, breaking on him like the sea upon a barren rocky shore.

"UGHHHH," Werner slowly moaned, his old spotted hands trembling, it felt like he was submerged at the bottom of some cold, liquid void, a hundred thousand tons of water above him.

The invisible weight of the intangible mass that swirled around him forced the wiry, thin man into a hunch over his work table. This was the third worst he had ever felt in his long years, only the cold leaden memory of his eighteen year old self standing near the summit of a snow capped hill in Korea watching a column of Chinese troops reaching forward towards him like an army of consuming ants at his distance, and the horrible day he had watched a polished rectangular box lowered into the ground in time with a priests' chanting bearing what was left of his wife of forty years after the cancer had finished with her could compete with this misery.

For a brief moment Werner considered simply embracing this and flinging himself after the love of his life but no he could not, he would not, Martha wouldn't have wanted him to lay down and die so as the cold pressure began to wane he struggled from his chair towards the door desperate at least to not meet his end alone here. He staggered halfway across the room before the next annihilating wave broke on him.

"UghhhhGHHH," Werner managed out a plaintive feeble cry as his muscles began to tense up, his breathing ragged as the intangible weight crushed the breath from him.

It was too much, the old man fell, fortunately not breaking any bones as he writhed in slow motion on the stained concrete floor. The old yellow fluorescent lights set in the ceiling radiating no comfort from their wire mountings in their artificial light. For an instant Werner blinked and he could see something, like laying on the bottom of a full swimming pool suspended in the absolute stillness looking up at distant lights high above the surface, for an instant Werner saw his fluorescent lights shimmer through an indistinct something through which meandering currents slowly streamed. For an instant Werner sensed an energy that he could neither see, touch, taste, hear, or smell but which was undeniably there. That instant ended as a new wave broke on him though he saw the spreading faint ripple pass through the liquid that was not liquid, a ripple whose center point was anchored in the room next door. The mystery, and the origin were lost to Werner however, only the feeling of that weight on him and a moist phantom kiss commanded his mind. Shakily, he rose an old hand to his thin, worn lips and tried to understand the sensual echo. His head turned a scant instant later to hear a soft thud in the room nearby as if something had gently come up against a wall. The ripple he had seen and the thud warred in Werner's mind as he sought his rationality but the delirium of the moment had him and had stolen most of his reason and his voice.

(Huffffff......Hufffff.......Huffff)

A few long labored breaths rose to the uncaring lights above, their sound playing in the forgotten crannies between old acrid solvents and worn tools as Werner felt the next ripple hit him bearing a new phantom echo. Something was pressing into him from the front and rear besides the damnable pressure, that front something was firm but yielding while the rear something was not, similar to the floor on which he now laid. In result he could feel the phantom's legs had wrapped around that something, that large something which was being enveloped by phantom thighs, the sense of touch crawling up Werner's legs and front telling him he had done the same except Werner hadn't moved, he still laid on the floor. That crushing pressure though was forcing itself on him though, relief...oh how he wanted relief. Slowly, Werner fought to match the phantom's position seeking any succor from his nightmare as new phantom tickles danced on his lips. He could not get there, his thighs could not match the angle the phantom held, another wave and the pressure became unbearable. He wanted to open his thighs further to that phantom, further in relief, but he had reached his limit. A single warm tear rolled from the watery gray eye of the old tough man as he felt another wave build.

"UGHHHHGH"

For three months Werner had endured a slowly building woe that he did not understand, a woe that had enveloped him and eventually brought such misery to him as his defenses against it eroded as his sensitivity to it magnified with each passing hour. For three months he had endured exposure to an unfelt trial but now that endurance reached its final limit, as the next intangible wave crashed into the stricken man the outer boundary of his being, the very essence of his soul, at the hip of his right leg failed.

Like a submarine too deep, the pressure too great, the physical force of that un-physical mass had pushed and pushed until the weakest point ruptured and now the submerged vessel began to fill as from a high pressure hose. Werner shuddered at the invasive sensation as the cold intangibly liquid-like mass began to flow in around the rupture at his hip, the cold rapidly seeping into his bones and flesh from within. He did not understand the breach and still did not even as his right leg twitched and began to move again, being forced wider than it had ever been in his life under the spell of a flexibility he should not have possessed. Werner groaned as the cold essence poured into him, its tendrils flowing in a crystallizing mass across the center of his body and down his leg like a creeping frost. Half a moment more passed before those tendrils found their way into his left hip. Half a moment beyond that and slowly his left leg moved out to the match the angle of his right allowing him to finally match the pose of the phantom doppelganger.

The soft, muted, phantom kisses stopped only long enough for twin phantom caresses to work their way up the sides of his stomach. Werner tensed as those two echoing touches moved closer, closer, closer, tracing a pair of remarkable thin curves divorced from Werner's reality. The feeling of being touched within his middle was both intoxicating and terrifying. Seeking relief and understanding he rapidly yanked the tail of his denim shirt from his work pants, a slight gasp escaping from his lips as the raw sensation of the rough material passing over his skin elicited a feeling alien to him. Though his head felt like it must weigh a ton Werner managed a raising glance and looked down his front to his stomach. In wonderment he gaped as the brownish age spots there around his navel faded like water drying from cloth. When those had gone he stared further as the slight yellowish cast granted to his skin by his long decades too began to fade. A thought...delusion? Werner asked himself but it felt so real and his dim eyes did not seem to be lying as wrinkled skin slowly lost the mottled hue as it was replaced by mottled spots of light tan skin. Though it was impossible Werner's fingers did not lie as he felt his wrinkled skin at his stomach all but iron itself from the inside, collagen lost long ago filling back in hiding the odd bluish vein here and there. Werner did not understand as the spreading patches of light tan combined, did not understand why his wrinkles were pulling taut and disappearing, did not understand why the tone of his worn out muscles was improving, the incredible thought too strange to give real credence crossed his fevered mind that he might be getting younger. It was insane but his eyes and fingers were not lying, though that hypothesis could not explain why the few wisps of old white hair that he had still had on his stomach were not being replaced by new dark growth, why in the return of his youthful skin tone there seemed to be a creamy radiance that was not part of his memory, and why the muscles of his stomach felt so peculiar.

Shaking, wrinkled hands drew across a freshly resurfaced stomach under which pools of cold energy collected unsure if the remarkable texture of the skin was entirely true. Further down the changing folds of his pants showed him what he felt from the inside as thighs that age had reduced to wiry cords swelled and firmed with new muscle, but only briefly. Werner laid his head back down and looked back up at the light trying to think. A hand tested a still spread thigh through his pants, muscle had returned but not enough to fully refill the limb, not enough to match what he had possessed in his prime, maybe enough to match what he had as a lanky lad on a farm in Kansas nearly a lifetime ago. The deepening puzzle was still beyond him, the very act of making expectations for this strangeness all but impossible.

Werner's eyes went wide as he stared up at the lights, something happening to him which hadn't happened in over two decades. His breathing intensified as a bulge started to become apparent at the crotch of his pants. The juxtaposition of arousal even as the frosty sensation filled his usually dormant manhood was unsettling in the least. With an act of will he slowly managed to unfasten his pants. He lowered them to reveal that the smooth, hairlessness of his stomach flowed down over his hips and into his thighs at least to the point where his pants hid any further expanses of smooth skin where his threadbare pants now resided around his knees but Werner was certain that the hair had been wiped away everywhere that the spreading cold had reached with its icy fingers, and that cold now marched through his ankles intent on seizing his feet as at its northern front it slowly pushed up into his ribs, its tendrils creeping into Werner's vitality, leaving its frost on the inside curve of his ribs.

Between Werner's thighs his member had grown hard, excruciatingly hard, not even the first night he and Martha had spent together in Tokyo could match it and he had six months of frustrated anticipation to release on that night of leave back in 1954. It was here around his throbbing erection that the knowledge that this power was wholly alien to him became apparent for he could feel a new phantom caress, this one made as the cold, liquid, streams began to flow around the tip of his erection then slowly spiral down his rod following it into the root of his member till the power diffused into his stomach and washed upward like a cascading wave within him. Werner gave out a little whimper as the speed and volume of the flow increased rapidly, over taking the initial point of inflow from tear near his hip. It was clear which entry point the power preferred. The initial breach allowing the first cold waves to secure the vital port way into his body from which the bulk of the invasion would flow like commandos before the main army.

Down lower, the final pockets of resistance in his feet collapsed, the cold completing its dominion over his body below his waist filling him completely. Werner wanted to move, even if moving was futile but the cold sapped his marginal ability to do even that.

(HUFF, HUFF, HUFF, UGHHH)

Werner groaned as he felt his feet shudder, tremble, quake, and then move. For a wide-eyed instant Werner felt his toes pulling inward across the soles of his work boots, but...that was impossible he told himself. A look down back at his creamy tan middle betrayed the truth of what was and wasn't possible. With a supreme effort Werner worked to move his booted feet into better view.

(CLUNK)

A boot captured by gravity came off Werner's foot as he lifted it.

"Oh dear...Oh dear...Oh dear...," Werner eked out a whispered mumble as he beheld one foot with a boot still loosely wobbling on it, the other with a loose sock, the unfilled elastic of it not being stretched at all. Werner had to know, had to see what this strangeness had done to him, had to understand the truth of why his feet seemed so diminished. He worked at rubbing the loose sock off against the concrete. He was not particularly successful at first but a new round of shaking and convulsing that accompanied the feeling like his ankles were made of churning frozen marbles accomplished what he had desired. The simple sock came off and Werner saw what the power wanted, making the still white, wrinkled, translucent skin north of his chest go nearly deathly pale. For at the end of his leg was a beautiful foot, light tan, smooth skin, cute toes, clear nails, slender and small. Werner had always thought Martha's shoes were beautiful, he had complimented her once on the low heels that were part of her nurse's dress uniform and for years she kept buying the exact same kind in different colors until the maker had gone out of business. Werner's foot would have looked wonderful in that same model, in his minds eye he could see it, those toes pressed flat on the floor encased in a point of patent leather, the arch raised off the ground held by the spike of a long heel. This should not be, his feet should not have matched the aesthetics of Martha's shoes...but they did.

Werner swallowed hard as the cold currents worked up his legs, massaging and digging into his calves, gnawing on his old bones, the image of his smooth but male stomach and pubis burning in his mind. He had a measure of understanding now and it went against everything he knew to be true....Girl....the word flashed through his mind, not only female but more, not matriarch, not matron, but maiden. It was insane, but insanity seemed to be in abundance as he felt a pair of sleek, girlish calves moving within his cavern like pants even as the advancing tendrils of cold swept into his shoulders and started down his arms. The whole process fed by a vortex of cold energy flowing into him, anchored by his throbbing member.

(HUFF, HUFF)

The cold taking him, Werner grimaced at what the invader was doing to him, trying to ignore the hardness of his manhood that was devoid of pleasure and the sinking realization of what was happening to him. He opened his eyes as the power froze his knees, the exposed lower end of his thighs trembled slightly as he watched the curve of his knees break smaller, rounder, knobbiness giving way to clean curves.

A second's more hesitation, Werner knew but could not believe, could not believe that his body could be commanded like this, remade like this.

On the other side of the wall a muffled "Mmmhhhmm" slowly filtered over almost too faint to hear. Werner felt a phantom tongue touching his, the immediate revulsion not fully masking the spark that shot across his awareness that hinted that being touched and kissed like this might be...good. Further time for introspection was cut short by a guillotine of feminine ice. The frost that claimed his thighs a minute ago was freezing hard. A minute ago Werner wondered why his legs had not filled out back to their youthful proportions, whatever doubts he had to the reality of this situation were swept aside as he watched his thighs finally fill back out...with shaping feminine fat that hid the muscles at their core and imparted sumptuous soft tapering curves. Youthful proportions, youthful thighs, youthful girl thighs. Werner knew them well, a life time ago he had been young and far away from any ready source of them. Fertile thighs such as these, had been a favorite topic of discussion, where to find them, their quality, whether they could be bought outright or had to be wooed, and if the latter what it might take to reach that divine moment when a pair of them might open in invitation. Werner's thoughts that he had been blessed with a quality pair of such thighs were almost wholly detestable...and just a little bit wonderful.

If the participants on the other side of the wall had been paying attention they might have heard the soft muffled "Mmmmhhhmmm" that answered them with a man's pitch but a woman's inflection.

Werner fought to keep his mind from being overthrown. He had to do something, to lay here was to invite this cold to take him fully, but the cold was his puppet master and its effects had frozen the strings already slackened by age and time. Werners movements were slow and heavy and despite his best efforts his will could only seem to animate a few muscles at a time...not nearly enough to get to his feet that were far too small for his body. The corner of his work table was not that far, Werner strained with his hand to reach it but not far was not close enough. Still he strained with a cold frozen hand his old eyes watering, pleading for anything other than to remain on that horrible unfinished concrete floor.

Before his gaze tendons and muscles writhed in his hand, all feeling falling away to numbness. He could feel the frozen bones grinding. Like a surgery with local anesthesia the pain was largely implicit, his mind intellectually knew it should hurt so it did, a little, but the soft cracks and pops that danced through his hand seemed strangely distant as did the quick tingles of cold fire that danced across his nail beds. It was both horribly distant and horribly immediate as Werner panicked. He had done so much with these hands, scars and wrinkles telling a story of a young lad on a farm, a young man in a foxhole, a man providing for his family, a husband touching his wife, a wrinkled husband touching his wife for the last time, an old man among the innards of an uncaring building searching for purpose as he counted out his dwindling days. His hands told a story and this horrible invader was erasing that history wrinkle by wrinkle, fading scar by fading scar, leaving only smooth softness to coat tapered slender fingers, their length only seeming longer from the elegant clear nails that now extended from their tips. As the consuming cold finally passed Werner could only stare up at the soft small hand from which all traces of his life had passed. A fatalistic thought occurred to Werner, his earlier assumption might actually be true, he might be dying after all.

The acute feeling of warmth in his toes only served as confirmation. In Korea he knew men that came in from the Siberian winter feeling like their toes and fingers were warm only to find the flesh black and frozen when they removed their boots and gloves, killed by frostbite. Now he surmised that he too was suffering from intangible frostbite from a far different intangible source. Werner's wizened watery eyes looked upwards, tears in them and wished for release, but the power was not done...

"Gahhhhhhh," a low grunt borne as the flow of the cold mass redoubled flowing in along the axis of his erect member like a monsoon flood.

The mass raced forward gripping his chest in its cold embrace, digging deep into his shoulders, its icy tendrils climbed his veins, its crystals seeking his heart. His chilled wrists and forearms flailed slowly, their slender columns not filling the over loose sheath of his shirt's arms in the slightest. As cold hammered at his body eddies of its power swirled off collecting in his hips and buttocks. A phantom caress, Werner could feel phantom hands digging into the soft yielding mass of his buttocks....NO that wasn't right, the sensation was getting stronger, the overlap between his body and the phantom's growing, the distinction blurring. In his disorientation Werner barely noticed that his lower back was rising slightly off the concrete, his natural posture changed as the angle of his hips altered and soft padding grew in his buttocks. It was so strange his fingers warm, his feet warm, that feeling of warmth so good, so wonderful. His warm fingers against the cold mass of his hips as the curves on either side grew more distinct...The series of CRUNCHES emanating from his lower body almost feeling academic against the growing sensation of euphoria creeping up his arms and legs. His reshaping pelvis now distinct, its lines showing shallow, wide bones that carried the sockets of his legs farther apart. Intellectually, he figured that if he brought his knees together there would a noticeable inward angle now between hip and knee. Emotionally, Werner wasn't sure if the inwardly tapering profile of his legs was supposed to be good or bad. The increasing angle of his tail bone helping push his lower back upwards. Werner's warm fingers felt the cold curves, the remarkable yielding softness of his buttocks.

"So full...so wide," Werner mumbled, his reverent inflection implying that such a thing was good for an instant before he shook his head to clear it from the invading thoughts, from the feelings of exquisite well being that were breaking on his mind from his arms and legs.

His middle though was still cold, and that rushing cold current was doing its best to erode his stomach. From within, the passing stream of liquid ice tickled his flanks and swirled around his navel from the inside undercutting the foundations of his stomach. He had been thin but this still demanded a little more. Slowly his frozen muscles drew tighter, slowly the flesh from his middle was eroded, washed away by the consuming cold torrent. Slowly, the timeworn belly of an old man pulled inward to give way to the nubile slender softness of a new girl. Slowly, a taut beautiful tenderness emerged promising a warm spring after the bitter winter.

Werner drew his warm fingers across his soft thighs, his nails grazing the smooth skin in a few places following the advancing warmth as its tendrils crept into his hips melting the cold, the boundary of between spring and winter in his body following the icy blasts that had come before. He was so very pretty, an errant thought crossed his mind as he experienced the twin oddity of being both toucher and touchee, the feel of a woman at both his fingers and stomach. However, as he looked down the shallow curve of his new stomach where his navel was still rising higher, distending into a narrow oval a thought occurred to him that made him frown. The distance from the three inflection points where his waist was at its narrowest, between the reversing curves down his flanks and the reversing curve at the base of his spine was small indeed.

Not like Martha. Martha had been beautiful, the undercurrent of his thoughts was increasingly telling him how much he was like her now back when she had been a pretty nurse, but even then to her chronic disappointment she had struggled to match the figures of the pretty models in the glossy Sears catalogs that she collected throughout the waning 50's. This body was not like hers. That realization pulled Werner back, the seductive feel of his gnarled body blossoming into a flower of maidenhood was tainting him along with that mind-melting warmth, but the knowledge that this flower was not him at all helped him remain lucid awhile longer, helped him try and summon a yell.

The surge of warmth into his stomach came as a surge of cold compressed his chest its leading edge freezing his voice solid. A voiceless scream tried to claw its way from Werner's frozen throat but the icy lump of what had been his Adam's apple would not move. The winter did not care in the least for those it froze to death for it was a primal, elemental force and the winter raging in Werner's chest was no exception. One by one the frost invaded his organs, touched them, and froze them solid waiting for the slow thaw that would come in a new female spring. Soon only his heart was left still beating, still desperately trying to hold out, preserving its flickering male warmth against the encroaching cold. That small ember of heat though, was not enough, everything else south of his neck was frozen and with that the assimilation continued.

Cracks, pops, whines. The sound of an entire frozen ribcage collapsing in on itself bit like bit like the grinding of gigantic ice floes, each small break heralding the reshaping, mutating mass. Shoulders pulling inward like migrating icebergs, a pronounced collarbone, unsheathed by melting muscle. The grinding generating clean lines that flowed down in curves to narrowness then bulged out wide before the long inviting tapering of girlish legs.

A flicker of warmth in his chest surrounded by the deepest blizzard born of an artic winter, traitorous thoughts born on his own cooling blood invading his mind, a body that was not his own. Yes, Werner thought, he was about to die. The spring might come but it would not be him.

He wheezed, every strained breath rising in pitch as a tendril of warmth danced across his throat melting the frozen rock of his Adam's apple, its bulge flowing like slush into the flat expanse of his neck.

"Anyone!?...Martha....help," a maiden's sweet alto pleaded as its owner squirmed within the denim pools of his clothes into which his body had melted.

A sharp intake of girlish breath heralded the dying moment. Between the thighs still spread wide the cold intake was taking its toll. Werner could feel his frozen manhood being pulled upward, borne on the hurricane current that was flowing into his body. He could feel the nerves and muscles, the crucial tubes, all of it caught in that inrushing tide that was flowing into his body. The flesh around his member had already succumbed long ago, framing the struggle, a sharply defined inverted triangle patch of carrot orange downy girl hair sprouting on his pubis providing an imminent sense of the danger to his manhood.

Werner grimaced as within him, one of his tubes, unable to resist the force of the torrent any longer, broke loose from its mounting just behind his prostate, its end pulled along with the current up through the wide circular cavity in the bottom of his pelvis. A cavity that mere moments ago was far smaller. A second grimace came a few cold heartbeats later and his second tube joined the first, their loose strands twisting around each other in the torrent of the cold flow. Streams of intangible liquid ice flowing up them, streams that carried the essence of his broken manhood along the failed lines deep to a point within his hips.

"Arrrghhhhh," the voice of a girl managed a weak grunt as his balls convulsed and spasmed, the juice being crushed from them like two overripe pieces of fruit. Tears streamed from old eyes across pale wrinkles before running faster across a tan smooth neck as a frenzied mind prayed for his madness to end. Each consuming pulse from the running stream of slushy ice made Werner's maleness jump, almost like a mechanical harvest. There was no pleasure as each squirt sent a slug of withered seed up the broken tubes to spill into the spot deep between his hips. Faster they came, faster he pumped, more and more until he swore there could not be anymore juice left in his squeezed balls, yet still the stream pumped him. The spilled mass coalesced, its shape like an inverted pear, the coiled tubes leading to it merging, anchoring. Werner felt its icy presence deep within his warm hips, he felt his womb as it warmed even as it demanded more and more from his eroding manhood.

The warmth had grown to encompass his arms, his chest. It was a maddening feeling for Werner, forced to simply lay there and both bask in it and be tormented by it. The spring warmth melted into his chest, his now soft, featureless chest like spring melting the frozen ground. That aching wonderful warmth brought a new set of gasps to Werner's lips even as their pinkness grew for that same warmth was working its magic in his chest. The warmth was seeping into the old cold buds below his nubs just as the cold had seeped before and the combination was causing those old dormant buds to germinate after decades of being barren.

Just as the spring warmth causes flower bulbs to wake and sprout sending their green shoots upwards as the precursor to blooming daffodils the mystic warmth pervading Werner's chest was bringing his dormant milk buds out of a long winter entreating them to sprout and send their ducts upwards like shoots to bloom in his nubs. Werner bit down gently on his lower lip as he watched his twin nubs swell, becoming true nipples, their swelling tender pinkness and their growing pebbly areolas heralding a new pair of pink womanly flowers. It should have terrified the old man but the freezing cold in his mind and the wonderful warmth of his body twisted his thoughts, the concept that he was growing breasts and a womb danced a tango between right and wrong in his mind.

It was a strange thing in that moment of dying for Werner to consider the concept that his seed flowed inwards, but he could not deny it. His manhood was reversing, the outward flow compromised now spurting inwards as the sole outward flow of his white essence migrated upwards to anchor in the headwaters of his breasts.

Soft feminine squeals marked the reversal as the inward pull intensified demanding more from Werner's manhood. Moving icicle threads of power danced in the widening channel of his tubes as the merging ropy strands began to take on a remarkably different cast, their purpose inverted and reflected to accept and embrace the implement which they had formerly supplied. A remarkable female body hurtling towards completion squirmed as the first hint of lubricating warmth lingered at the edges of reason and sanity inaugurating the forming tunnel, the slick feminine moisture easing the passage of intangible daggers of icicle cold as they ravenously consumed the ovoid anchors of his maleness. Twin crystal threads sent their fibers into the uncharted spaces of Werner's low gut and marked the places of power from which the new capital of his sex would reign.

A pleading whine rolled off enticing pink lips as twin points of absolute cold burned on either side of Werner's belly, their gravity wells pulling all of the cold to them as they approached a critical mass. Each staccato thud of his heart echoed through Werner's sex carrying in its desperate besieged beat the potential for his end.

(HUFF...HUFF...HUFF)

Each tender breath came and went until, finally, the inevitable happened as no dwindling ember of manhood was left to combat the crushing pressure. Like hollowed out eggs, cracks shot through the curve of the desiccated springs of his testes, then they failed. The ovoid masses, now hollow, imploded and were reduced to infinitesimal shards of sexual dust which were swept away in the vortex of power still flowing into Werner. Those fragments rode the whirlpool and disappeared into the expanding passageway that lurked unseen just inside his groin. His two points of white-cold power flared and then reached their critical mass with the final addition of power inherent in the residue of Werner's sacrificed testes. Like a run away nuclear reaction their heat exploded exponentially sending waves of mind washing warmth back down into womb and tunnel to herald the twin ovaries that now anchored his sex.

Overwhelmed, Werner tensed, arching his back as the ripple of expanding warmth cascaded up his body from its source, the warm mass floating upwards pushing the ethereal ice before it. His now warm hand flew to his exposed groin, the aching cold of his member now sticking out from the warm loose skin that had been his sac. The same sac that now puffed outward into a triangular mass even as its lower boundary pulled down between his thighs. Only the frozen rod betrayed the flat expanse now realized as warm empty skin thickened into proto-labia. The feel of his forming mound of Venus would have been insult upon injury but in that moment Werner was beyond reason for the cold mass sent upwards by the pulse from his womb was breaking on the last ember of heat in his heart. The dwindling spark of his male body had fought long and held out against the onrushing columns of feminine essence far longer than many would have and even to its end it held out at the top of the mountain of Werner's heart to its last before there was simply too many advancing tendrils of power and not enough defenders by far to stop it. The almost girl shuddered from where he laid on the floor his body quivered as all the consuming ice that caked his veins ignited into an inferno of bliss that raced from his heart through his quivering body.

That pulse of fire swept all reason before it and Werner barely had time to bring a small hand to his head to chronicle the instant the crashing wave of this hot flood erased his face. Werner unleashed a soundless scream from his fuller lips as nose and jaw fractured into new curves, as skin and cheek smoothed into new fairness, as the life of a rugged man was swept away by a tide that was depositing a face of elegant beauty in its place. The white horseshoe of his old hair fell away and new carrot colored curls sprouted to take their place. As Werner opened his eyes the unchanging lights from above shone down into his circles of blue the shade of the Kansas sky. Werner's tender fingertips at his groin and face could only marvel at the warmth that pervaded his form. There was no third hand to mark the pulsing warm that rose from within his chest as his breasts germinated from the spring of his new sex.

There was also no free hand that could have marked the warmth that sealed off the broken line of his urethra and for good measure collapsed the empty pipeline through his penis which left his rod solid. Given Werner's mental state he missed the point where his penis shuddered and moved inward, its foundations undercut, the muscle and ligaments no longer holding it within the forming mound. Like a tectonic plate the force bearing down on the member, though now warm, was beyond his flesh's capacity to oppose and slowly his flesh was pushed by the vortex of fire into the mound that had formed, its seam neatly bisecting Werner's groin. The flesh that submerged under the Venusian surface was not without effects though for submerging plates inevitably build mountains and likewise the disappearing member was causing two hills to form. The hand at Werner's head descended in time to discover a plush lump rising from his chest. The pressure of Werner's potential milk doming the ground of his body as the ambrosial caverns formed below. The inflowing streams still fed from the torrent of warm which was still rocketing down his diminishing member.

Werner's hand at his groin grasped at the departing organ but the friction inherent in his smooth hands could not combat the relentless firestorm that rolled up it. For the last time he held his rod in his hand, the feel of a woman's hand on it odd even as its pinkening skin turned to moist velvet. Its head slipped beyond the reach of his index finger, that inch of its length consumed to push his burgeoning breasts out to teenage sized peaks.

(SOB)

There was naught the delirious man could do as his middle finger reported that it had lost contact with his little soldier even as the rising mountains at his chest grew too large to hold their conical shape and began to round.

Sanity all but departed him as the phantom kisses that had rained down on his face and his lips jumped down over his body, he could feel an ethereal tongue probe the well of his navel making him tense again. In the motion another inch was carried under the topography of his new sex answered by the growing masses at his chest now large enough to have their own inertia as Werner thrashed. He knew that when he stood their mass would roll downwards forming teardrop shaped bulges. Hot tears ran down his soft cheeks as he tried to curl his slender pinky around the nub, and then failed. The tides of ice and fire had swept away all physical remnants of his life as the pink bud tucked itself into the seam of his labia, leaving their debris piled up in twin fleshy mounds capped by cylindrical pillars. Werner stared down the valley of his cleavage and lamented all he had lost. It was a long list of lamentations that was given short shrift as now the onrushing warmth unable to push enough volume through the tiny bud of his clitoris diverted into the seam of his body just below. The honeyed flaps had already been separating and now with that pressure on them they burst and split the seam of his sac opening the well that had formed from the inversion of his tubes. The streams of intangible flame caressed the new vagina as they dove up the moist tunnel racing into the heart of Werner's new maidenhood. As they reached the points of fire of his ovaries the new mass of warm bliss ignited into streams of incandescent plasma, of raw womanly essence.

The tsunami of pleasure only redoubled as all the loose essence in the room tried to dive into the vortex anchored at Werner's vagina sending streams of liquid fire to crash into her mind forged of both the essence flow and the raw physicality of an unbroken tempo of female climaxes. In his delirium Werner stood at the top of a mighty peak at the edge of Siberia and watched streams of advancing fire incinerate the valleys around him. As each tree and rock met its oblivion under the streams of living fire he could sense his mind changing. This torrent of ice and fire had taken his body it now would sweep his mind away in its primal gale if given the chance. Water turned and looked into the bronzed face of his beloved, long dead, how on Earth could he fight...this...

"Martha, what am I going to do?"

As his dream self cried softly the maelstrom of fire licked its way up the slopes and crested the top. A tongue of hot plasma reached out and licked at the bronze statue where it sat at the place of honor among the shrine of his life. Werner could feel it touching, caressing his mind where the thought of being held in the embrace of a pair of strong male arms made his memory and joy of Martha's modest bosom dim.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!, YOU CAN'T HAVE HER!!!"

Dream Werner threw himself at the shrine determined not to lose her again, determined that this power would have destroy him before he surrendered that. Around the dream peak the column of fire descended as Werner clung to the statue and shrine of his Martha determined to shield her as long as he could, he would not let this power rob him, not let it make her beauty be any less in his sight. He screamed what he knew to be immutable truth to ward off the consuming flames.

"My name is Werner Johansen, I was born in 1935, outside Lawrence, Kansas. I went to Korea in 1952. I met Martha in 1953. I married her in her hometown in Nebraska (sob) a year later. I loved her, I love her, I buried her after thirty of the best years of our lives. I am a good and honest man, YOU CANNOT TAKE THAT. My name is Werner Johansen....."

Dream Werner screamed as his dream flesh boiled under the touch of the intangible fire but he would not let go and would not stop repeating his mantra and creed. All thoughts of reality lost as all the power in the room drained into his body. Seconds became as minutes, a minute stretched out to a lifetime, and five whole minutes were as eternity, but the sea of essence that had built up was not infinite. Slowly the consuming fires of bliss receded, slowly sanity began to return. In a dream, wisps of fractured thought rose like steam from the body of a nude young woman, where she embraced a statue her bountiful bosom pressed into the more average one of the statue. Slowly her mumbled creed tapered off as her body cooled. The woman blinked twice and swept her carrot curls back behind her ears and looked around at the beautiful and mysterious enchanted forest that surrounded her. It was like nothing she had ever seen before its saturated colors and bright sunshine new to her.

"Where....," she began in shaky tones.

A breeze scented of flowers swirled around her slender legs and carried on it an enigma of potential. She turned her head back to the statue and recognition washed over her...

"Martha...."

Werner recognized her late wife and slowly sane memory returned to her, the shrine, its pictures and memories were singed and scorched, but whole. Martha's breasts, her oval face, her slightly thick figure, and her mesmerizing smile were still beautiful to Werner even as a young woman. She searched her thoughts for a moment and realized that aside from some faint embers, thoughts of men between her legs had no real attraction for her. Almost everything else had been lost, but memory, desire, and love had endured.

(HUFF, HUFF, HUFF)

Dream Werner looked up at the sun where it sent its radiance down to bathe her, slowly the golden orb turned into a fluorescent rectangle. She blinked and then she was staring up at old yellow lights and twenty year old ceiling tiles. The madness had passed and reality was returning but Werner was still achingly female. The tickle of her soft reddish hair, the lingering wetness between her thighs, and the pink capped mountains of her breasts had not vanished with her dream vision, rather the dream and reality had seemed to merge.

"Why should they?," Werner asked herself not truly understanding her own question...the movement of her body felt natural, the roll of her breasts, the softness where her padded derriere was still in contact with the floor, it all felt normal. If she hadn't been aware of the unique way in which she had acquired her form and hadn't been aware that not ten minutes ago she had been an entirely natural old man she would have thought herself an entirely natural woman.

A frown crossed her face as she worked to recover her lucidity, she still didn't understand why this had happened. Low hushed voices carried across the wall from next door, one of them recognizably female. Werner looked down through the open collar of her shirt where it hung off her diminished shoulders down to the curves of her breasts where they rejoined her chest to frame the valley of her cleavage. A slight spark of recognition lit up her light blue eyes, she had seen these curves before, usually when she had been standing on a ladder looking down at a doe-eyed young neighbor. The voices next door were moving out of the IT room, seeming to leave. Werner tried to scramble to her feet but she was still weak after her ordeal, and her clothes were all but falling off her. After her first step her second foot came straight out of her boot but she didn't turn back, she needed to talk to a woman who possessed a pair of tits remarkably similar to her own.

[Leonides]

Great stuff, man. And yeah, I read the whole story. I'm not really into mind alterations, but it was still awesome.

[Reif]

Ah...but did I do a mind alteration? The TFee came out of it unchanged between the ears...

[Apsm]

WARNING: SPOILERS!

First of All: CLIFFHANGER ENDING! OH NO! Now you've definitely got me worried about Zoe for the third story. (Please don't kill her off...or turn her back into a dude...or make her evil permanently...)

Though the fact she'd leave for a convention FULL OF MEN WITHOUT HER HUSBAND without the fact dawning on her seems is just about the stories only flaw that bothers me.

Second of all: Do I smell spinoff with this Wendy character? Let alone a cameo for your next hunters and the hunted story!

Third of all: It was long but you kept my interest long enough to read it all.

[Reif]

SPOILERS:











@ APSM

Zoe's fate is going to be pretty much the theme of TSV. Remember Scott loves her very much he's not going to let the succubus which already did so many horrible things to them have her without a fight.

The idea was at this point that with Mirabel's help she's not burning through essence nearly as fast anymore. She's in control of her succubus side and has been, she's never seriously been at the point where she might grab a guy off the street and break her vows BUT as shown in the story it can be very distracting to her.

The idea on the tradeshow, which I may need to go back and clarify was that it happened so fast that Zoe hadn't had time to internalize the thought process of Mirabel's warning. Also she got tasked directly by the CEO of her company, how does she say no? Her realization at the end is not really "Oh I'm going to do something I shouldn't," it is "OH CRAP, I'm in the middle of a potential succubus buffett"

Right now Wendy, Mirabel, and the Witch from FN9 are all part of the Succubus universe. I am not going to link the Succubus and Hunter universes because that would make things VERY unwieldy. Remember Mirabel already put in an appearance in TBACC. My long term plan is for once the Succubus Arc ends to keep these Witches active around a central theme. Zoe knows that shes giving Mirabel some serious mojo, but she can't and wouldn't know that 100% pure succubus essence is like weaponized plutonium to a Witch. I assure you that Mirabel has plans for those vials

[iamlampy]

Lovely stuff as always, Reif. Well done x

[frice2000]

My God the bar with you just keeps getting put higher and higher with each passing story...

My initial reaction to this story being in your Succubus/Cheesecake Universe (...sounds very palatable) was disappointment. I didn't really think you'd come up with a story to tell beyond the one and dones that this little universe of yours already had. But I was very very wrong. This story was superbly crafted. Your characters evolved superbly, you dealt with family relations which are so often forgotten, and you filled in backgrounds and motivations so very beautifully. It's staggering the level of improvement in this story compared to just your last one. Every single one gets better. Your writing style to me seems to be evolving to be very reminiscent of the author Kelley Armstrong's work where she introduces new characters in each story that are later set up for their own original novels. I'd love to now read more about any of the characters you've filled out in this story. Simply fantastic where you can go with ANY of these characters in the future.

Weak points of this story were few and far between. I did see the ending coming from the very beginning of the story sadly and when she was told to go to Las Vegas I groaned at the obvious implications. Other weak points were a little more could have been done with Zoe's parents in my mind, but I expect they'll be making their appearance in your next chapter. Also I do hope that some representation of a positive force similar to angels or the like is revealed (not just fuzzily moral characters such as witches) in this universe as obviously demons and such exist so their opposite number would be intriguing to hear about. Hell can even see them being a good antagonist if you wrote a fourth one with them suspicious/interested in Zoe's existence.

Again wow. It's criminal if you don't have some sort of professional writing job. I feel you really need to write something more mainstream and make a career out of this. Your writing and characters could EASILY be published. Regardless, I super anxiously await the conclusion of this story...please don't take too long . Oh and my comment about Zoe not being a real Succubus in the end in one of my posts in your stories...I apologize >.>. This was the best treatment of Succubi I've ever read and that includes various professional authors books. THANKS VERY MUCH for sharing this. You should publish this in some more places too. Give it some more exposure. Definitely deserves it. Also if you do happen to write at any other sites with material that you have not published on this forum could you provide a link to them? Even if they are not work of this type I'd be quite interested to see what else your imagination has cooked up. Thanks also for posting a PDF file this time. Was a lot easier to get it archived onto my e-Reader with proper formatting then your other stories have been. I pity the poor poor people who have to read this uncomfortably off a computer screen.

Also someone needs to come up with a Succubus Cheesecake recipe. I can see it having chocolate and pineapple in it...Oh look found a recipe for it upon a Google search: http://www.grouprecipes.com/31727/ch...heesecake.html . I would bake it in your honor but I hate pineapple. Couldn't have gone with cherry or vanilla huh?

[Reif]

Thank you for the compliments they are very much appreciated especially given the high time investment in putting together works of this detail. Unfortunately, no I am not a professional author though the thought has occured to me that with some more practice and honing I might be able to make a worthwhile attempt. It is particularly this which has driven to ask for feeback especially on the characterization though I have to admit I wouldn't have an immediate theme ready outside of TG fiction. As far as scope of my work so far my material is only published here and at tf-media. I know of fictionmania and several others but in a few places I'm somewhat uncomfortable with the torrential amounts of CD/TV and wish fulfillment fantasy material that gets posted. If you have any favorite sites that cater heavily to process type stories I'd love to hear them because I would like to prioritize to those sites.

You saw the ending coming from the beginning...DRAT what gave it away? I know her getting sent to Vegas should have set off warning bells in the minds of most readers and I thought the city choice might have been a little obvious, but I needed a city with certain 'features' for The Succubus' Vows and it was the best example that came to mind. I even worked pretty fast through the end of the story to avoid telegraphing the ending. I had hoped that most readers would have forgotten about the prospect of an actual meeting.

Also yes all of the associated characters will have aleast some part to play in the finale. Also while the Succubus arc will conclude I do want to preserve the "Witch" characters for additional one off stories. So far TBACC and FN9 are the only two spin offs from the main arc but I think Wendy atleast deserves a standalone story of her own. Also it wouldn't be primarily TG but I want to write the AR "deaging" for Mirabel that was hinted at in TBACC. I think the vials of power that Mirabel is getting from Zoe would be an excellent anchor point for an extended universe somewhat ala the SRU wizard. After all, Zoe may know she's giving a Witch some serious mojo she just doesn't know how powerful The reference to plutonium in the story was intentional.

As for the plotline of TSV, there's hints in the story for what's about to happen...the only additional hint I'll give away is that there's more than one major event going on in the city, if you read the story carefully and think real hard about Zoe's intrinsic nature you might figure it out.

I am surprised though that noone has won the contest yet. I might have to throw in one of your cakes...that looks delicious

[frice2000]

Originally Posted by Reif

Unfortunately, no I am not a professional author...though I have to admit I wouldn't have an immediate theme ready outside of TG fiction.

Read some contemporary urban fantasy novels. Your work reminds me a lot of a set of books I posted in the Evil Conversion thread by this author: Richelle Mead (long excerpt of first book) in regards to also being an interesting treatment of succubi with some excellent 'romance' scenes. You are really almost there with these sets of stories with a very similar theme minus the process scenes and a tone down or removal of the TG. In fact I'd rate you higher then most of the professional authors of that genre that I do read.

Originally Posted by Reif

You saw the ending coming from the beginning...DRAT what gave it away?

Kind of hard to say how I saw it coming. Basically knew that her Succubus creator was still around and as the story from the get go seemed to be about her dealing with her Succubus-hood as most of the femininity was dealt with between stories and how there was only one chapter (should call it book with how long you write) left after this one...stood to reason that she'd be a antagonist at some point. As it became obvious that the story was going to focus purely on Zoe and her Succubus nature I just knew that there was a coming 'I've got you my pretty' cliffhanger coming down the pike. Though once Las Vegas was mentioned I knew for certain that my suspicion was correct. Also don't be too concerned. Most of my friends and my parents refuse to watch TV mysteries and the like with me because 5 minutes in I can almost chart how the entire damn story is going to go. It's a curse.

You did throw in some pretty good red herrings quite nicely though. The whole female energy she was giving off making the weird things happening in her office/home/way to work almost made me think maybe her creator (you should come up with a unique term or identifying word for the Succubus that uses someone else to spawn another calls their offspring and their offspring calls their 'mother' in the coming book) was just playing with Zoe and wanted to screw up her relationship by making her extra hungry and making her lust higher then normal... I do though assume something slightly odd is going on at that sandwich shop though as that seems less like Zoe's giving of power and more like something getting drained. One of the 'mystics' mentioned taking advantage of Zoe leaking power to discretely drain energy from the women at the office maybe, knowing the power would quickly be recharged by a leaky succubus? (Oh just noticed the irony in Werner fixing the pipes when the most dangerous one was right under his nose...neat! Yeah I'm not too quick often on things like that.)

Anyway, what you should have done if you wanted to make the ending somewhat less apparent is mention Zoe's creator/sire/spawner/demon mommy much less often. The amount of times I saw her mentioned made the ending or at least her appearance more and more apparent. Instead you could have made an internal demon character that she fought against perhaps developing her subconscious a little more and mentioning that instead, as you did a few times when Zoe wasn't railing against 'what SHE would do'.

On the other hand you could have also thrown in a few more odd effects that in the end could have been explained by Zoe's leaking of energy, but which she maybe could have noticed and wondered what was going on before it was explained to her. Zoe could have assumed that there was another supernatural character or her momma around draining from her. If she was then a little on guard and paranoid as to the cause and then it was revealed that her evil mommy in fact had nothing to do with anything in the chapter after hinting throughout that her creator possibly did the ending would've been much more surprising.

In regards to your desire to characterization criticism: Well, Zoe's marriage with Scott at the beginning felt a little too perfect. You added lots of nice elements to make it much more difficult as the story went. Perhaps requesting Scott to change the dreams around a tad for his own benefit and pleasure or wanting to play more of their online game when Zoe didn't want to to create a minor argument would have made for a slightly more realistic character and marriage. Scott in general seems a tad too perfect. Needs a couple more character flaws. I think if you were to submit something similar to this to a major publisher they'd tell you their relationship/marriage needed some more arguments/incompatibilities. I think others would think it was a tad too fluffy and happy. I can see that easily being a major point of contention for you moving forward in regards to realism. Though myself I enjoyed their relationship quite a bit and made the struggles you later introduced all the more dramatic. Other then Scott though felt quite nicely polished. The minor characters were filled in superbly.

As to another place to share it...well none other then FM really comes to mind. Though I have a suspicion that people on the fukufics.com forum would like the story as it too has a very good succubi story written by that boards creator. Sadly that site is for fanfiction and they don't like direct links to adult material so...probably not that good an idea.

In closing I'd also like you to know that your cunningly concealed representation of WoW Rogues is quite offensive to a former Rogue player. I was a highly skilled invisible ninja of death. Damn Tanks just could never position the mob right! I blame them...So not my fault I died it's everyone elses! In all honestly you try running around and trying to find a damn hit box to stand in on certain mobs that's two inches wide perfectly without dying when the mob has to constantly be repositioned because the tank likes to see the mob dance (tank liked to play farm runs gradually more and more inebriated).

And there is another 50+ minutes of my thoughts with a ton of edits I give you as 'payment' for your great stories :P.

[Apsm]

Originally Posted by Reif

The idea was at this point that with Mirabel's help she's not burning through essence nearly as fast anymore. She's in control of her succubus side and has been, she's never seriously been at the point where she might grab a guy off the street and break her vows BUT as shown in the story it can be very distracting to her.

The idea on the tradeshow, which I may need to go back and clarify was that it happened so fast that Zoe hadn't had time to internalize the thought process of Mirabel's warning. Also she got tasked directly by the CEO of her company, how does she say no? Her realization at the end is not really "Oh I'm going to do something I shouldn't," it is "OH CRAP, I'm in the middle of a potential succubus buffett"

Sorry about misunderstanding the ending. It's not the first time I made two different speculations and failed to accept the obvious. Like the ending of season 3 of Lost.

Just don't turn her back into a dude...or if you do, don't make it permanent. For some reason I picture 'Zach' as Seth Rogen. Not that I find him repulsive, but I think it would ruin the potential marriage of Scott and Zoe if it happened.

Alright I admit. I don't like beautiful girls becoming sub par boys. Bishonen I can accept, but not below average.

But write the story the way you want it to end anyway.

Right now Wendy, Mirabel, and the Witch from FN9 are all part of the Succubus universe. I am not going to link the Succubus and Hunter universes because that would make things VERY unwieldy. Remember Mirabel already put in an appearance in TBACC. My long term plan is for once the Succubus Arc ends to keep these Witches active around a central theme. Zoe knows that shes giving Mirabel some serious mojo, but she can't and wouldn't know that 100% pure succubus essence is like weaponized plutonium to a Witch. I assure you that Mirabel has plans for those vials

Alright. So the witch from FN9 will make a cameo then? And with Mirabel, I remember you referring to her in the story as having black hair, yet you later referred to her as being old, and I wasn't sure if the story takes place before or after her 'Age regression'.

[Reif]

@ Frice

Yeah I suppose that if you've been watching the meta development of the story arc it becomes rather obvious. The concept of having Zoe direct her rage inward against her generic succubusness is a good one...I hadn't really considered that and it would have made the return of the boogeyman (or boogeysuccubus) a bit less obvious. The question though becomes do you know where I'm going because both the means and the setting have been revealed by now.

I do though assume something slightly odd is going on at that sandwich shop though as that seems less like Zoe's giving of power and more like something getting drained. One of the 'mystics' mentioned taking advantage of Zoe leaking power to discretely drain energy from the women at the office maybe, knowing the power would quickly be recharged by a leaky succubus?

And sometimes the sandwhich shop is just a sandwhich shop, though I imagine its sandwhiches are quite tasty. No my intent there was simply to provide a plausible disguise so Zoe wouldn't recognize that the women around her were being drawn to her to bask in the radiated feminine essence the way a group of lizards gathers to bask on a sunny rock. I'll admit though that having Zoe notice but not understand the source and maybe getting a bit paranoid would have been interesting. There was a potential goldmine there of "it's HER, because it can't possibly be me" material that I missed which I agree would have setup the later chapters beautifully.

Yes, Scott isn't getting the most indepth treatment largely because his purpose is as a foil for Zoe. You can probably see where I was noticing that problem and trying to correct it in the conversation with Zoe's father and later with her on the couch where he pretty much loses it. Really, I need to go back and more firmly establish his opposition and conflict to this whole arrangement in TSWN where its a point but not a particularly driving one. Also I don't think I gave the idea that he essentially got the woman of his dreams but NOT enough development. Consider it noted, I think its high time in the start of TSV for Scott to have his own moment particularly in regards to the fact that he's had to keep emotionally doubling down in this relationship over and over.

My subtle dig is less aimed at rogues and more at the "scrubs" in general. Being an ex Ret-Pally with a raid grade tanking set that got more use than the 2h sword towards the end of my time there means I know both worlds well...I also note that I had that character well before they became AWESOME lest you think me shallow....Though I do admit a disproportionately high percentage of language slaughtering 14 yr olds did play rogues...

@ APSM

No Zoe getting de-girled has never been the plan...though compared to what I have planned for her she might consider that preferable...(yes I'm evil)

The Witch from FN9 is in that universe but I don't expect to use her in the TSV. I do think she might make an appearance in a spin off with Mirabel. Also yes, Mirabel deaged herself about a month before the story starts as hinted at in TBACC. The references to "old" in the story are always the fact that her mind and soul are old even when they're in a young body.

[frice2000]

Oh and one more quick bit statement...Would've been cute for Zoe in their Japanese dreams to appear as a Kitsune or some other supernatural entity, then later for her to appear as a normal human pregnant or as a mother like she seems to slowly be wishing she could be. Would've been interesting to see the reaction from Scott due to the incongruity/development there. Maybe changing her absolute control of the dream scenarios when she was hungry to show her own internal desires a little bit more as a normal person would do in a dream but still sharing it unintentionally.