Succubus Girlfriend: Sig Part One (complete)

You wake up on the floor, the rug wrapped around you like you transformed into a burrito in the middle of the night. Groggy, stiff, and with a mouth full of cotton, you manage to rise up enough to see a bottle skitter across the floor. You groan, rubbing your eyes as the heavy pressure in your head seems to pop like a bubble and become a thick vapor in your brain. Everything is foggy, heavy, and like a boot on your neck.

Your brush your hair back from your face and feel the markings of the rug etched into your skin from laying on it all night. Scoffing, you try to piece together what had happened the night before. You remember going out, but after that things seem a bit vague. As you hoist yourself off the ground, you look down. Your shirt is unbuttoned and wrinkled from being twisted around your torso. You grumble, rubbing your eyes again as you realize you’re wearing what looks like a lace thong - wherever the hell that came from.

With a sluggish pace, dragging your feet across the ground, you head off to the too-small bathroom. Turning on the light hurts. Even your skin aches from the glare of the tiny lightbulb above you. You gaze at yourself in the mirror. Your usual moon-glow skin looks pallid and gray. Last time you drink like that. Did you drink? You must’ve.

You turn on the sink, taking big gulps of water to get rid of the heavy cotton feel on your tongue and throat. As you slurp down the cold, amazing water, you remember a similar sensation last night. You had been sitting with a girl at the bar. You were sharing a drink and both of you were laughing. 

Taking your toothbrush out, you search for the toothpaste, hoping to get rid of the vile taste in our mouth now that the cotton has dissolved. You came home last night looking for something too, right? You can remember stumbling around, jerking things off the bookshelf. But what was it? Or had you been watching Pagemaster again?

As you brush your teeth, you see something in the mirror. A reflection of something passes by the open door. You turn and look around, slowly removing the toothbrush from between your teeth. You stare for a moment, wondering if it’s the hangover playing tricks on you, then turn back to the sink and continue to brush your teeth. As you spit, a noise comes from the kitchen, like one of the cabinets opening and closing. You stop everything for a moment and listen, but you don’t hear anything else. You start to turn back when you hear a clatter of pans.

“Hello?” you shout, regretting it instantly. 

The pans shift and settle, like someone is trying to pull one out very quietly. 

“Hello?” you call out again, much more quietly before.

No more sounds of pans, but you hear a click like the stove is being turned on.

You wipe your face, then make your way to the kitchen. As you step inside there is someone standing at the oven. At first all you see is a wave of orange hair, but as they glance back over their shoulder, you see a pair of pale eyes.

“It’s about time you got up,” the woman scoffs at you. She turns back towards the pan on the stove and cracks an egg into it. 

She has a pair of horns that curl back against the crown of her head before swooping upward. Her long hair is pulled into a messy ponytail that hangs sloppily to one side. She’s not wearing anything except your apron, so you can see a broad expanse of her skin. She’s short too, standing on a stool in order to reach the stove comfortably.

Her skin is patchy, mottled gray in the center, hardening into scales the color of amber and smoke around her shoulders, arms, and legs. Her tail is wrapped around a bottle of olive oil, which she takes into her clawed hand and sets on the counter.

“Who the fuck are you?” you hiss at her.

“Oh, how one’s tune changes come the light of morning.” She turns from the stove with a scowl and a hand on her hip. "Last night you seemed quite pleased with yourself when you summoned me.”

Your brow pinches while you shake your head. “Summoned you?”

She turns back to the stove. “Mmm-hmm,” she hums. “Now, how do you like your eggs?”

“What do you mean, ‘summoned’? I didn’t summon anything, I was-” You stop yourself, remembering again how you were searching through your books last night. Things have been a bit lonesome since you moved here, so you went out last night to find some company to share your bed with. But you wound up alone again, drinking too much before you stumbled home. So you decided to summon up a familiar from your homeland, but it looks like you used the wrong book.

The girl at the stove turns back and looks at you. “You figured it out?”

You lean against the wall and her eyes run over you. “Hmm,” she murmurs. “That lace looks good on you.”

You cover yourself with your arms. “You.” You point at her. “Stay right there!” You scurry out the door. “Don’t move!”

She sniffs. “I’m cooking an egg, where can I go?”

You hurry to your room, putting on a clean shirt and some pants to cover yourself. Then you go back to the kitchen, where the thing you summoned is plating a freshly cooked egg.

“So,” you start off, “who are you?”

She turns towards you. “You were kind of out of it last night. I shouldn’t be surprised you’re foggy on the details.” She steps off the stool and points to a pot on the counter. “There’s coffee, if that helps at all.” She sits down at the table with her egg and a piece of toast. “My name is Sig, and you summoned me.”

You shiver as you pour the coffee. “But what are you?”

Sig is dipping her toast into the center of the egg. “A succubus.”

You flinch, nearly sloshing hot coffee onto your hand. “You must be joking.”

Sig giggles. “Oh please, I have much more I can kid about than that!” She glances back at you. “You were crying and begging me to stay last night,” she says with a proud smirk. “You said I could sleep like a princess in your bed while you slept on the couch. But you just sort of rolled up in the rug.”

You groan, grasping your temples and rubbing them. “This can’t be happening.” You rub circles into your skin. “Summoning a succubus,” you scoff to yourself. “You fucking idiot.” You run your fingertips to the sharp points of your ears and squeeze. 

Sig sighs as she pushes her plate aside. “Anything I can do?” She slips her legs over the side of the chair.

“For what?” you huff, throwing your hands in the air.

“Well,” she sighs as she stands up, “you did summon me, so I am bonded to you.” She comes close, placing her hand on your waist before her fingers sneak up under your shirt. “And most people summon a succubus or incubus when they need something in particular.” Her soft fingertips graze across your skin, followed by the slight drag of her claws.

You frown at her, watching her black tongue dart across her lips. Arching a brow, you push your hair from your face. “What are you suggesting?”

Sig smirks slightly. “That all depends.” She plays with the elastic of your sweatpants. “You’ve summoned me, and yes, we have a bond now. But the bond isn’t official until you give me an offering.”

You place your hands on the countertop behind you. You know what she’s getting at, but you’re still trying to get your mind to focus through the fog. You could keep her, make Sig your companion, but succubus aren’t easy to keep. They require regular feedings and can get jealous or even possessive of their partners, but they remain loyal.

Sig glances up at you. “Well?” she chuckles.

You frown a bit, but wriggle down the sweatpants just enough to pull your shaft out over the elastic.

Sig smirks. “What? No lace?” She kneels before you, taking your cock into her hand and pumping slowly.

“I, uh-” you squint your eyes, trying to remain focused. “Just get on with it,” you pant.

Sig’s tongue presses to your tip, then runs down the side. She kisses your belly and hips before kissing along your shaft again. She moans as she opens her mouth, taking your tip inside and rolling her tongue around it. You’re growing harder the more she touches, the more she moans. Soon, your rigid shaft is buried deep in her mouth while her hands press against your thighs. 

Her tongue coils around your shaft, pumping you while she bobs her head. Her pale eyes flick up to your face, watching you. She strokes her hand up your chest, where she kneads her sharp claws into your skin. You moan, grabbing her hand and holding it to you. 

Her mouth is soft and wet, her tongue warm. The sharp edges of her teeth scare you, but feel good at the same time. Your head is swimming, turning to liquid more than fog. You buck your hips slightly, meeting the bobbing of her head. Then you reach down, grabbing her hair and pulling it from the messy ponytail. Your long fingers tangle in her locks, pulling as the heat grows within you. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you gasp. “I’m gonna-” You shudder and can feel yourself throbbing on her tongue. Sig whimpers, her lashes fluttering. As she pulls back, your seed coats her tongue and lips. She licks it up, swallowing and giggling softly to herself.

As she breathes, a cloud of steam rises up. “Feel better?” she purrs as she stands up. 

“I, uh-” you glance at her, your vision a bit unfocused. “Maybe,” you pant. You stand straighter and wipe the drool from your lip. “It certainly feels like I made a deal with the devil.”

“It was your choice,” Sig says with a shrug. “You’re stuck with me now.” She pulls your pants back up and tightens the cord. Then she stands on tiptoe, placing a soft kiss on your neck. “And I am stuck with you.”

You sigh, rubbing your neck where her lips touched. “I should probably get to work.”

“Oh?” Sig turns and looks up at you. “Where do you work? Can I come?”

You go back to your bedroom, sifting through clothes until you find something you like. You slip on your white-collared shirt and black blazer. “I’d prefer if you stayed here,” you grumble. “I’ll have enough to explain because I’m opening late.”

“Opening what?” Sig asks as she poses herself on the bed.

You shut your sock drawer and arch your brow at her. “I own an antique bookstore.”

“Ooh,” Sig coos in awe. “Where is it?”

You huff, sitting down beside her as you pull your socks on. “Downstairs. I own the building.”

Sig smiles up at you. “Is business good?”

“It’s an antique bookstore. I sell one first edition a month and it pays all the bills.” You find your shoes under the bed. “Just make yourself at home,” you grumble. “Just don’t make a mess, and don’t go snooping around looking for things.”

“Oh I did that last night,” Sig giggles.

You glare down at her, your hair falling into your face.

“That’s a good look,” Sig licks her lips. “Dishevelled, yet put together, angry, and yet maybe a little turned on-”

“No,” you huff at her. “Not now, not when I’m-” you hesitate, mildly considering it. “Ugh, I need to get to work!” You leave the room.

Outside, you slip your shoes on and head down the stairs that lead to the backdoor of the shop. As you search for your keys you glance up and see Sig standing on the veranda above you.

“Have a good day!” She waves.

You grimace slightly, but wave back at her before you go inside.

Most days are the same, quiet and peaceful. The same regular customers come by to see the new inventory, peruse, use the restroom, then buy a paper and head out. You’re used to it. It isn’t hard work at all, just kind of boring. 

Around noon it starts to rain. The pitter-patter of it is calming, and considering you’re not at your peak, you begin to feel groggy. The back door opens as you yawn, and you glance down the aisle to see Sig come in from the rain. Her burnt-orange hair is pulled back into a braid, and she’s wearing a shiny yellow raincoat with matching booties.

You scoff, leaving the front desk to meet her halfway down the aisle. “What are you doing here?” you grumble at her.

“I could tell you were getting bored,” Sig says with a smirk. “So I came down to keep you company.” She holds up a paper bag. “I also brought you lunch.”

You huff and take the bag. “You really didn’t need to do that, Sig. You don’t need to act like you’re into this.”

Sig tilts her head to the side. “I’m not acting.”

You frown.

“I’m not!” She stomps her foot. “What would be the point of acting? You may have made a mistake summoning me, but you summoned someone you needed, drunk or not.” She places her hands around your waist, stepping closer to you. “Someone soft and warm, someone who can take care of your needs.”

Your face begins to burn hot, and despite knowing the store is empty you look around. “Sig, not now.”

Sig giggles. “Your heart is pounding so fast.”

You glance down at her, awed by the cute expression she’s wearing. “Okay, fine, you can stay. Just behave.”

“You mean-” she steps back and starts to unbutton her jacket. “I shouldn’t take this off?” She opens the rain slicker, revealing she’s naked underneath it.

You drop the paper bag on the ground, staring slack-jawed at her naked body. Then you quickly scramble to cover her back up and button the rain slicker. “Bad,” you hiss into her ear.

“You liked it,” Sig teases. “You’re as hard as day-old bread.” Her palm rubs your bulge. “It’s a fantasy, right?”

“What do you know about my fantasies?” You grumble as you pick the lunch bag back up. You walk to the front counter with Sig close behind.

“After this morning, I know everything.” She takes your chair as you open the paper bag to see what’s inside. “I also looked through your side drawer.”

You glare back at her.

“Is lunch okay?” Sig giggles.

You huff, taking out the box of Chinese food. “Where did you get this?”

“Just down the street. I saw all the menus in the kitchen.” Sig watches you as you open up the box and start to eat. She gazes around the shop, her eyes going down all the empty aisles full of books. “Wow, this place is creepy.”

“It is not,” you try to argue with a mouth full of food.

“Very creepy,” Sig murmurs. “Like a mummy or something will come running out of the aisles.” She glances back at you. “You see it differently than I do, though.”

You finish off the heaping bite in your mouth and wipe your lips with a napkin. “And how do I see it?”

“Warm,” Sig murmurs. “Comforting and accepting,” she sighs softly. “It’s a palace to you for some reason. All these dusty old books, their spines glittering on the shelves, every one of them you have somehow read or glanced through.” She turns back to you. “It’s a very romantic vision.”

You offer a Sig a bite from your fork and she takes it. “Salty,” she murmurs as she chews. 

“A little, but I kind of like that.” You take another bite of noodles and look around. “I just like books,” you murmur. 

“I’m not judging it,” Sig says as she stands from the chair. “I like your vision.”

Your heart skips a beat as you look at Sig. “Thanks for lunch,” you murmur. “It was a treat.”

Sig beams. “Good.”

Over the next few days, as it continues to rain and the bookstore remains quite barren, Sig joins you in the shop. She’ll bring you lunch keep you entertained for a while. You show her around, introducing her to some of the older books and familiarizing her with your unique way of organizing the shelves.

“And these,” you show her to a small shelf in the back that’s painted red. “These are a special selection.” You take a book off the shelf, showing her the worn yellow pages. 

“How special?” Sig smirks. 

You stand close behind her, smoothing your palm over the page before placing it around her hip. She gasps softly, then eases into your touch. “They’re all erotic,” you whisper to her. “Each of them antique, but detailing all sorts of perverse things for their times.”

Sig gasps softly and presses her rear against you. “Mind reading me a few pages?”

“Better,” you snap the book shut and place it back on the shelf. “I’ll show you.”

Sig bites her bottom lip. “You sure?” she moans. “We’ve not done anything since you summoned me.”

“I’ve been a touch nervous,” you confess. “But if you follow me I’ll show you the confidence I found.”

You take her to the last aisle and set her on a stack of books. You press a kiss to her lips and Sig’s body shivers. Her hands clasp around your face, keeping you in place. Your hands go up her thighs, pushing up her dress until it’s around her waist. Then you spread her soft, plump thighs wide.

“On the books?” Sig moans, biting your cheek and neck.

“They’ve seen worse.” You stroke your hand down her middle, going over her soft belly and then between her thighs. You press your fingers against her mound, slowly opening her until you can feel her heat against your palm. You pull her hips forward and sink down to your knees. Sig’s eyes glisten as you place her legs over her shoulders.

You kiss her belly and mound, nibbling at her thighs until she’s whimpering. Her folds are dark in color, and her clit is very pronounced. Moaning softly, you proceed, gently rubbing your fingers against her slit until you ease them inside. Sig throws her head back, grunting as you stir her up.

You pull your fingers from inside her and smirk. “You should have warned me you make a mess.”

“I told you,” she grunts. Her eyes widen as you lick your fingers clean.

“I need a better taste.” You spread her thighs more, dipping your head down between them. You press your tongue against her slit, easing in, then lapping up to her clit. Sig cries out, her voice high-pitched and eager. She dribbles more, growing wetter with this new affection.

You moan against her, letting the vibrations trail along her skin. You press kisses to her clit, slowly easing your fingers back inside as your lips suction around the sensitive bud. Sig is breathing hard, clutching her breasts in her palms. She lets out a cry and kicks her legs as you suck on her clit. You move your fingers inside her, swirling them, then curling then to press against her. You feel her inner walls tighten around you, flexing. You continue to suck and lick her clit while her voice cries out.

“I’m close, I’m close!” Sig whines. “Oh god… I’m gonna pop! I’m gonna-” her voice cuts off as she gushes on your fingers. She pulls hard at your hair, then kicks your shoulder so you stop. She leans back against the shelf, gasping and panting, her tongue hanging from her lips.

You grin wickedly, feeling triumphant in that moment. You stand up, taking off your pants. “You look like a cute little pumpkin sitting there.”

Sig mewls as you pick her up and lay her on the floor. You rub your cock against her thigh as you suck on her nipple.

“You want to fuck a pumpkin?” Sig teases. 

You chuckle, sitting up to gaze at her. “Just this one.” 

Sig wraps her legs around your waist. “I would make a pie joke, but even I can’t stand that.” She kisses you, rubbing her slit against your shaft. “Just fuck me, elf boy,” she growls.

You chuckle, easing your tip to her slit and pushing inside. She’s wet and warm, squishing as you push yourself deeper. Her inner walls wrap around you, squeezing your firmly. You go slowly at first, sitting up to watch her lips cling to your shaft as you pull out. You hold your breath, worried you might release too soon.

Sig reaches down, rubbing her clit slowly. “About time you shoved that cock inside me.” She chews on her bottom lip. “I’ve been getting impatient.”

You grunt, shoving inside hard. “I know.”

Sig grunts, gazing up at you. “You didn’t need to be scared of me.”

You thrust hard again, making her moan out loud. “Not anymore.” You start moving faster, harder. You watch as her soft breasts jiggle with the movements. Her mouth hangs open and her back arches from the ground. She grabs you, clawing her hands down your sides until she’s gripping your ass. Her sharp claws dig into your skin, only urging you on harder.

You plunge deep, but find if you angle yourself right, rubbing towards the top causes Sig to writhe and giggle. Soon though, you feel yourself begin to tremble.

“Cum,” Sig commands. “Cum inside me! Cum-” she mewls over and over. “I need to feel you inside me.”

You snarl and buck, ducking your head down as you move harder. Sig cries out, and you echo her. You release deep inside, snarling until you catch your breath. Sig melts back into the floor, giggling as she licks her lips.

You lay down beside her on the cool floor, breathing softly as you kiss her neck and cheek. Sig sits up, gazing down at you with a smug smirk on her face. “Feel better?” She rubs your back.

You grunt and start to smile. “Just getting started on better.” You sit up and pull Sig into your lap. You kiss her deeply as your fingers tangle in her hair. “Mind if I call you Pumpkin?”

Sig arches a brow. “You may.” She kisses you. “But you must use my name when you’re inside me,” she whispers.

You grin and kiss her shoulder. “Deal.”