My First TF Story - Woman to Succubus

[Amahain]

Hi everyone. I've been a long time lurker and now I think it's time I make some sort of contribution. It's just your standard evil conversion and awkwardly worded sex fest, but we've all got to start somewhere, right?

Of course, constructive criticism is welcome. I know my writing style could probably use some work in a general sense, but if anyone wants to bother with a more detailed critique, I'm more than happy to hear you out.

Enjoy.





Fall of the Lady, Rise of the Queen


Lady Ravanda rushed through the labyrinthine halls of the ancient temple, sword drawn, trying to track the source of the female voice which echoed throughout in some unknown language. She turned a corner; the voice was clearer now, and it had switched to common.

?O Queen Sythea, take this offering, the descendent of your enemy, Cymer, so that you may enact your vengeance through me. Grant me your power, and I shall complete your legacy.?

?Stop!? Ravanda yelled as she entered a large chamber. There was a stone alter in the centre of the room, to which King Aron was bound. A petite blonde woman wearing a skimpy green dress stood above him, holding a dagger with both hands, ready to plunge it into his chest. She looked up in surprise.

?Who -??

?I am Lady Ravanda, a paladin of the Order. Put the dagger down now, or I swear you will not leave this temple alive.?

The woman stared into Ravanda?s eyes and slowly raised her hands as she dropped the dagger on the ground. ?Very well Lady Ravanda, I surrender.?

?Move away from the King,? said Ravanda, keeping her sword pointed at the would-be murderess.

The blonde woman obeyed, walking around the alter and slowly towards Ravanda, keeping her hands in the air. Her fingers twitched slightly, and Ravanda only had a split second to raise her shield when a jet of fire came rushing towards her. Such a spell would have made short work of most other warriors, but Ravanda?s training and her blessed armour was more than enough to keep her safe. She charged and swung her shield into the woman?s face, knocking her back. The sorceress? head hit the edge of the stone alter with a sickening crack.

There was no mistaking that she was dead. It had not been Ravanda?s intention to kill her - she disliked having to use lethal force, but this had been unavoidable. She approached the alter to free the king when, without warning, a wave of lightheadedness overtook her and caused her to stumble. Whatever that had been, it quickly passed, and she righted herself with the help of her sword. She convinced herself that it had just been a combination of hunger and exhaustion.

Ravanda cut Aron?s bonds and removed his gag. She had assumed that she would be rescuing an old man, but was surprised to see a relatively young man in with long dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. ?Are you alright, Your Highness? I?m sorry I didn?t get here sooner.?

?Better late than never, I suppose,? said the king as he shakily climbed off the alter, allowing Ravanda to help him. She couldn?t help but notice how his head only came up to her shoulders. Granted, her heritage made her much taller than most women and many men, but King Aron was still rather short. Regardless, he had a handsome face and clearly exhibited a ruler?s charisma. He looked up at her intently. ?Thank you. I shall see to it that you are well rewarded for your valour.?

?Thank you, but there is no need. I was merely doing my duty,? said Ravanda. She didn?t mention that this had gone way above and beyond the call. She had come to Cymeria from Shon as a simple ambassador for the Order; the Council wanted to open up a guild house at the urban centre of the nation-state, and her mission was to gain an audience with the king and make the proposal. The seemingly simple mission had turned complicated when no sooner had Ravanda entered the city than word had reached her that King Aron had been abducted. It took two days to track him down to this abandoned temple out in the wilderness, and it had been dumb luck that she reached him before his abductor killed him.

?Duty...? repeated Aron, distractedly. ?You said that you were a paladin, no? What business takes you so far west??

?Perhaps now isn?t the time to talk about it, Your Highness,? said Ravanda as she glanced at the corpse of the sorceress by the alter. ?Let us leave this evil place.?

*****

?If you don?t mind my asking, Your Highness, what was all that about?? asked Ravanda as she led her horse through the trees towards the city in the distance. King Aron rode on top.

?Politics,? he said. ?The woman you killed was named Laesa Whitehall, a daughter of a noble family which has long challenged the legitimacy of my family?s rule.?

Ravanda was about to say something, but decided to hold back. She found the idea of hereditary rule to be somewhat outmoded, preferring the system in her country, where rulers were chosen for their wisdom by a small council. That still didn?t excuse attempted regicide.

?I can only assume that she was encouraged to pursue magic and demonology by her family from an early age. When I get back, I think I shall have to have a talk with the Whitehalls...?

?She was a demonologist?? asked Ravanda. Even the most power hungry mortals were wary of consorting with demonic powers - they were too unwieldy, too likely to harm the user as much as the one they were targeted against.

?Aye. That temple used to be the lair of Sythea, the Queen of the Succubi, back when she roamed the mortal plane, before Cymeria was established. My ancestor, Cymer, managed to slay her.?

?Pardon my ignorance, but succubi?? Ravanda had heard the word before, but she knew very little of them besides the fact that they were some sort of demon.

?Sex demons,? said Aron with a half-smile. ?They seduced men and drained their souls when they were at their most vulnerable. Not a bad way to go, I suppose, but as you can imagine, they caused a lot of trouble in this region. When Sythea was slain, her legion of succubi fell into disarray, and were all destroyed soon after. Now they only exist in the fantasies of the young men, who will never fully appreciate danger that they posed.?

Ravanda nodded as another wave of lightheadedness overtook her, accompanied by a slight but pleasurable tingle running up her spine. She managed to catch herself before falling over.

?Are you alright?? asked Aron.

?I will be once I get some rest,? said Ravanda. She looked towards the city, already able to distinguish the silhouette of its more majestic architecture against the early afternoon sky. At this rate, they would be back by nightfall, just in time for Ravanda to have a meal and a good night?s sleep at a comfortable inn.

*****

Once they reached the gates, Ravanda had allowed the city guard to escort King Aron back to the palace. They had made arrangements to meet the next day at sunset, and Ravanda was feeling optimistic. The King seemed rather agreeable with the idea of giving the Order a presence in Cymeria, considering that he had seen the benefits first-hand, and Ravanda figured that it would just be a matter of going over the finer details.

She found an inn around the city?s commercial district, where she enjoyed a hearty stew, though she declined on the ale when it was offered, opting for a mug of more-or-less clean water instead. A few other travellers at the inn were stealing quick glances in her direction. She was used to it. Even back home, she was considered a bit odd looking; not just that she was a female warrior, which was rare enough, but her tall stature, light brown skin, dark brown eyes, and black hair gave her a rather exotic appearance. She had her father to thank for that; he belonged to a tribe in the southern plains known as the Ju?Kah, and had been a warrior and an adventurer, as well as a bit of a womaniser. During one of his adventures in the north, he had managed to seduce Ravanda?s mother, a noblewoman from Shon, but promptly left before he realised that he had fathered a child. Still, Ravanda held no bitterness against him. From her mother?s description of his character, he had many admirable qualities, which Ravanda honoured by keeping her hair short and braided in the traditional Ju?Kah style.

Ravanda finished her meal and paid for a room upstairs. It was modestly furnished, but all she cared about was the bed. She eagerly removed her armour and stowed it in the closet, happy to take that weight off her shoulders, then proceeded to remove the rest of her clothes. It was the moment she had been looking forward to all day; she climbed into bed, pulled up the covers, blew out the candle at her bedside, and closed her eyes.

*****

Ravanda was on top of King Aron?s naked form, riding his erect penis as she kept his arms pinned above his head. They were in the temple again, and he was lying on the stone slab that was to be his sacrificial alter. He looked into her eyes - that intense look that he had given her before. She could see that he was afraid. Of her, maybe? She couldn?t tell. Ravanda leaned over and locked her lips with his. She could feel him getting weaker, his struggles becoming less emphatic. She brought her head back to stare into those eyes again, but there was nothing there - just his skull?s empty sockets.

She climbed off the alter and stood on the cold stone ground in her bare feet. Ravanda had an audience. A score of winged women, all naked, stood around her in a circle, staring at her approvingly as they pleasured themselves and each other with either their clawed fingers or tails. One of the women - one of the succubi, rather, as Ravanda clearly recognised them as such - approached and took her in a gentle but firm embrace, her leathery wings wrapped around the two of them like a blanket. Sythea - Ravanda knew it was Sythea - brought her mouth close to Ravanda?s ear, and she could feel the demoness? warm breath on the side of her face. ?The blood of Cymer has been spilt, and I find you worthy to continue my legacy?.

She felt a slight pressure below her breasts as something soft and cool sensually slid down her torso, then entered her.

*****

Ravanda woke with a start, shocked to find that her left hand had not been idle as she dreamt. Self-consciously, she pulled it back and used the covers to wipe the sticky substance off of her fingers. There was a mysterious after-taste of blood in her mouth and a dull ache all over her body, though it seemed to be subsiding. Still in a state of arousal, Ravanda sat up in her bed, her muscles aching from the motion, and tried to calm her mind. She had never felt like this before and couldn?t quite explain it. Ravanda had no desire for King Aron or any other man; her duty to the Order had always taken precedence over such base thoughts. Still, the images from the dream haunted her conscious mind. Had that been a dream conjured up by a sex-crazed subconscious which she had been keeping suppressed throughout her seven years as a paladin, or was there something unnatural going on? Ravanda shook her head. Laesa had been killed, the ritual had been stopped, and the descendent of Cymer was alive and well; there was nothing to worry about.

... Except for the lustful thoughts that had her on the verge of sexual frenzy. Technically, her vows of chastity did not extend to solitary acts, though Ravanda felt that she had to stay as spiritually pure as possible, and abstain from any sort of unnecessary self-indulgence. She crossed her legs, placed her hands on the covers in front of her, closed her eyes, and started to meditate.

Hours later, dawn broke, and Ravanda was feeling much more like herself. As she removed the sheets from her lap, she noticed four parallel tears to the right of her leg, piercing the bottom sheet and the straw-filled mattress below it. She figured that the previous tenant must have had a pet, and that she had not noticed the claw marks before in her haste to crawl into bed. Though one would think that a decent inn like this would be in the habit of changing sheets between customers, she didn?t give it too much thought

*****

Ravanda appeared before the king with her full regalia, including her polished plate mail, cape, tabard, and helm, which she held in the crook of her arm. As per the guards? wishes, she relinquished her sword and shield before entering the meeting chamber.

King Aron sat at the far end of a long table behind a pile of official-looking documents. A pair of advisors sat on either side of him, and a handful of stern-faced, pike-wielding guards stood along the room?s walls. Ravanda noticed one guard in particular - a young red-headed woman, and the only other woman in the room. She remembered how hard it had been for her when she first joined the Order seven years ago, how she had worked twice as hard as her male peers just to be seen as an equal. Ravanda wondered if the guard had gone through the same difficulties.

?Lady Ravanda, it is my greatest pleasure to see you again,? said Aron. ?Shall we get down to business??

?Of course, Your Higness.? Ravanda launched into the speech that she had been preparing since she left on her journey, going over the moral and practical benefits of housing and training paladins right in the heart of the city. She could see that King Aron was already sold on the idea, but his advisors kept shaking their heads and asking questions. Ravanda defended her position well, or at least she thought so, but as the discourse went on, she started feeling more and more distracted. The arousal that she had felt last night was slowly creeping back.

?Lady Ravanda, with all due respect, you still have not fully answered my question about the cost of this project. How much coin are you expecting us to invest, and how much is the Order willing to contribute?? demanded the advisor on Aron?s left. He had been particularly tough on her throughout the meeting.

?It... it is still open to... negotiation,? said Ravanda between short breaths. She was starting to sweat, and King Aron seemed to notice.

?Are you not feeling well, Lady Ravanda?? he asked, ?Perhaps we should call for a break - I?ll have my servants bring you some water.?

?Your Highness, I appreciate the offer, but I think I will decline.? As she spoke a grim realisation dawned on her. ?Actually, I would like to discuss something with you in private. It concerns the Whitehalls?

King Aron gave a nod to his advisors, who promptly stood up and exited through the large doorway. The guards seemed hesitant to leave the king alone, but Aron managed to shoo them away with a glare. When everyone had left, King Aron turned his gaze towards her. ?You have my attention, Lady Ravanda.?

?On what basis do the Whitehalls oppose your rule?? asked Ravanda.

The king did not seem to appreciate the question, but he answered slowly and deliberately. ?They believe that they belong to the proper line of succession.?

?Are they descendants of Cymer??

?Yes,? said Aron, after some hesitation. ?Mordren, their ancestor was next in line for the throne. He had a rather... tyrannical... nature, though. His brother, Kale, my direct ancestor, killed him. Unbeknownst to Kale, Mordren had had children. This is not a tale that the general populace knows of. I entrust you with this knowledge because you have saved my life, but I expect you to stay quiet about it.?

?So, Laesa was the descendent of Cymer...?

?Yes.?

?And... I killed her.? Ravanda felt short of breath as her breasts strained against her armour. She was now fully aware of the dampness between her legs.

?Yes, what?s your point??

?The ritual... Sythea?s power... it required the death of a descendent of Cymer. It was completed...? Sharp pain at the tip of her fingers forced her to drop her helm and quickly remove her gauntlets. A look of horror crossed her face when she noticed her blackened nails growing into vicious looking talons.

?I?m not sure I under... are you alright Lady Ravanda??

The taste of blood returned to her mouth. Her canine teeth were growing longer and sharper, and her tongue stretched and split, becoming more serpentine. Her ears felt like they were being pinched at the tip and pulled upward. She dropped to her knees and clutched her head as two bumps started to form around her temples. The pain was intense, and she couldn?t help but scream.

Guards charged into the room, alerted by the noise. Half of them formed a protective semi-circle around King Aron while the other half moved in on Ravanda, not quite sure what to do. She opened her mouth to demand that the guards kill her before Sythea?s corruption took hold, but only another scream came from her blackening lips, as a pair of onyx horns burst through her skin.

She couldn?t breathe. Her armour was now way too tight for her expanding chest. Without thinking about it, she dug her claws deep into the front of her plate mail and ripped the thick metal apart with ease, tearing her hauberk and cloth undershirt in the process. Though she was marginally aware of her unnatural display of strength, her mind were focussed on trying to maintain her sense of self amidst the perverse thoughts invading her consciousness.

She had the sensation of ants crawling all over the skin beneath her knees, accompanied by a persistent cramp in her feet. Ravanda shifted into a sitting position and quickly removed her greaves just as the base of her white stockings stretched and tore, revealing cloven hooves surrounded by thick black hair.

Suddenly, she felt something poke her just below her exposed chest. In all the confusion of the transformation, she had not noticed that the guards had been closing in on her. The tip of the iron pike which had been pressed against her chest pulled back and thrust towards her again. She noticed the look of surprise on the guard?s face, and immediately recognised the reason for it; the pike, though uncomfortable, was not piercing her skin despite the guard?s strongest efforts. It was as if her skin was made of iron, though it did not look or feel any different. At first, she did not understand, but then she recalled something that she had been taught during her training as a paladin: demons were invulnerable to regular weapons - only blessed or enchanted arms would be able to harm her now.

?She cannot be killed!?

?We must leave before she turns on us!?

?Get King Aron out of here!?

After the sound of the guards scrambling, the heavy wooden doors at the room?s exit slammed shut, leaving her alone in silence except for her own grunts and moans. She knew that it was better this way; no audience meant no victims when the last vestiges of her mind succumbed to the corruption. She would fight the perverse thoughts, but she knew her will was not strong enough to fight them forever. She just prayed that her demonic existence would be put to a quick end.

Pressure was building at the base of her spine and in the back of her shoulders, and she quickly shed what remained of her damaged armour. Now completely topless, she rolled over onto her hands and knees, unable to sit as her coccyx started to extend outward. She heard a loud series of cracks as the initially slow growth picked up momentum, tearing a hole through the back of her tights. Her new whip-like tail, acting with a will of its own, immediately curled between her legs and entered her tights from the front, finally satisfying the sexual itch which she had been trying to ignore for so long. She considered resisting. She considered using her newfound demonic strength to tear the offending appendage from her back, but her will was fading. Fighting the corruption was pointless, and resistance only resulted in anguish. With diminishing reluctance, she finally allowed herself to enjoy the physical pleasure which she had been denying herself. Soon, she realised that the tail was under her control after all.

Ravanada stood and pulled down her tights, allowing her tail easier access. She could feel her wings forming underneath her skin and the trail of warm blood trickling down her back, starting from the point where the wing tips were beginning to poke through. Despite the fact that the pain should have been excruciating, it barely registered in her consciousness, now. Her pleasure was all that mattered. Part of her knew that this was just speeding up her corruption, that she should make an effort to fight it for as long as she could, but she just could not care anymore.

She clenched her eyes shut as leathery wings burst from her skin. Some small part of her mind tried to retain some sense of her old self, but it could not withstand the sudden onslaught of evil and lustful thoughts. She opened her eyes to reveal glowing, blood-red orbs, and sighed with pleasure as she finally brought herself to orgasm.

*****

Ravanda raced through the hallways, detecting and following Aron?s scent with her long blackened tongue. She had soon realised after her transformation that pleasuring herself could not satisfy her, that her sexual hunger was not just a desire for physical pleasure, but a need to consume the souls of men. Her conscious thoughts had been pushed to the back of her mind, as more basic instincts drove her.

Eventually, the scent led her to a wooden door at the end of a hall. With a single kick, she managed to knock it off its hinges, and soon she found herself standing at the entrance of some sort of armoury. Aron was in the centre of the room, holding an elaborately decorated two-handed sword. Surrounding him were at least twenty of his personal guards.

?This sword was used by my ancestor to destroy Sythea and her succubi,? said Aron. ?It ought to release you from your curse. I am sorry. I shall honour the memory of the woman you once -?

Ravanda instinctively raised her right hand and made a slight motion with her fingers. Dark, ethereal tendrils snaked out of her palm and wrapped themselves around Aron?s men. Within a second, they constricted, leaving only piles of twisted metal and gore where the guards had once stood. Only the king and the guard woman that Ravanda had noticed earlier remained unharmed, looks of uncomprehending horror on both of their faces.

?Fuck me,? urged Ravanda as she started pleasuring herself with her clawed fingers. Her eyes locked with Aron?s, and the king stood mesmerised for a few moments before dropping his sword. He slowly approached her with a vacant look, unable to resist her charm.

?Your Highness!? shouted the guard to no avail. She dropped her pike and picked up Aron?s sword from the ground then turned to Ravanda and charged.

Ravanda?s gaze broke with the king?s as she focused her attention on the woman attacking her. Despite the sword?s magic, Ravanda?s combat training, coupled with her newfound demonic strength and speed, allowed her to dodge the woman?s swing with ease. Ravanda counter-attacked with a swipe of her claws, still coated with her demonic juices, and tore right through the woman?s chain mail at the shoulder. The guard dropped the sword and clutched her upper arm in pain, then fell to the ground writhing and grunting.

Ravanda observed the spectacle with curiosity, not quite able to understand how a warrior could show such low tolerance for the pain of a simple scratch. Then she sensed the woman?s growing arousal, and suddenly understood why her instincts had told her not to kill her with the rest of the guards.

She re-focused on the king and quickly brought him back under her spell. ?Fuck me,? she commanded again. Aron obligingly unbuttoned his pants. This time there would be no interruptions.

*****

Four hours later, Ravanda stepped onto one of the castle?s many balconies and observed the sleeping city below her. Her hunger had been satisfied for now, and her mind was now clear enough so that she could start strategising. The city was large enough to sustain her for decades, as long as she didn?t make herself too conspicuous as Sythea had during her reign as Queen of the Succubi. Judging from the memories Ravanda had inherited with her newfound power, the foolish demoness had delusions of invulnerability, and had made herself into a target. Ravanda was not going to make the same mistake.

Of course, she now knew that killing the king had not been a particularly wise idea, though she probably could not have stopped herself if she had wanted to. She now realised that if her appetite was not satisfied, her instincts would take over and likely cause some problems. For now, though, she would have to focus on fixing this one error and find some way to pin the blame on the Whitehalls.

Behind her, a succubus emerged silently from the darkness. ?The palace has been secured, mistress. Those men which we have found worthy are in the cellar so that we may feed on them at our leisure, and our sisters-to-be are locked inside King Aron?s bed chamber, awaiting your gift.?

?Excellent work, Mira,? said Ravanda as she gazed approvingly at her new lieutenant. Her eyes fixed on the succubus? pert, pale breasts for a few moments, then lowered to the small patch of fiery red hair between her servant?s legs. She noticed a bit of dampness and could smell Mira?s arousal, causing a similar reaction in Ravanda. ?Now, kneel.?

Mira did so, flicking her forked tongue in anticipation as the former paladin approached. Ravanda smiled to herself, knowing that this was but the first servant to kneel before her. Soon, she would have more... many, many more. Soon, she would have enough subjects so that she could rightly call herself Ravanda, Queen of the Succubi.

[Sephie]

I enjoyed that. Any story that ends with the corruption of the main character is a good story.

[frice2000]

I enjoyed the story quite a bit. I love Succubus transformations. For the most part it was very well done, though I could have done with slightly more detail in regards to the mental changes and fight for her mind against the corruption as I would imagine a Paladin would put up significantly more resistance to this corruption. A vision like she described in her dream of the former succubus queen corrupting her further would have been superb.

[rick404]

Fantastic story! Very well done. The characters and TF were well detailed and the pacing was great the sex stuff wasn't crude or over-the-top either. The only thing that seemed a bit short was, as frice2000 mentioned, her mental fight against the corruption.

[Mitchell]

Actually, I liked the corruption itself, but it would be a bit nicer if there was a notice on the three 'modes' and how they interact.

We get how 'Uncorrupted' is, as the entire fic explains it, 'instinct-driven' is also easy, that's her 'fuck-fuck-fuck' mode. I want to see a bit more of the in-between mode, corrupted-but-sane. That's the kind of thing that is fascinating. Does she instantly become a card-carrying fufufu villain, or does she retain much of her old personality?

Also, a HUGE bonus to the villain, plot, which is much more than the cliched 'rape-her-until-she-likes-it', or the even WORSE, 'cum-on-her-and-she-instantly-likes-it'. I'm wondering if she might be a lot like she was, except, you know, for the succubi-guards and the necessity of sacrificing men to her power.

[Amahain]

Thanks for the comments so far.

Originally Posted by Mitchell

I want to see a bit more of the in-between mode, corrupted-but-sane. That's the kind of thing that is fascinating. Does she instantly become a card-carrying fufufu villain, or does she retain much of her old personality?

Not to say that I have any intention of writing another story involving this character (though I will leave the option open), but I imagined her as retaining some elements of her old personality, namely a sense of personal honour. Still, she's a villain now, not some troubled anti-hero. As far as I'm concerned, she's comfortable with what she's become.

[Mitchell]

Aw. I would love another story. You could do something similar to Lycanthrokeith's series, and explore how she acquires more power and followers.

(Heck, there's even room for TG!)

[Amahain]

Funny you should mention Lycanthrokeith. The Lilith Strain was one of my primary sources of inspiration for this story.

Anyway, I'm leaving the possibility open for another story in this setting, but for now, I have some other ideas.

[Mitchell]

I can't wait to see them, and you've inspired a character for me to write about,or at least plot about.

[no-name]

The fic should've been a little longer, if only to extend the struggle between herself and the corruption.
Otherwise, I enjoyed every bit of it.
Even though she eventually accepted it, you can't help but....feel pity for her.
Perhaps someone will offer her the "salvation" she truly longs for?
This story definitely rates a comic book format, though!

I'm looking forward to your next project!

[Amahain]

Originally Posted by no-name

This story definitely rates a comic book format, though!

If that were left in my hands, you'd see a series of stick figures and random scribbles.

I'm looking forward to your next project!

Thanks. Just to assure you that I am at least somewhat committed, I'm already 5000 words into my next story. It's coming along slowly (I started writing it the day after I posted the succubus story, and that was a few weeks ago), but I expect to finish... well, I had better not give myself a deadline. Let's just say, "soon-ish".

Edit: Regarding the comment about length, I've taken the suggestions about focusing on mental changes to heart, and am making an effort to describe that process in more detail for my second story.

[Mitchell]

How's the second story going? I saw this on the Request thread, which prompted my question.