The Generator: The Succubae Seduction (2 page)

“Good to see you’re finally awake,” a gentle voice says, and I feel myself calming down. Swiveling my eyes towards the feminine tones, I see a rather attractive nurse holding a clipboard and smiling at me. Her long blonde hair is pulled back into a pony tail, and her blue eyes are sparkling as she looks over my broken body. Her lips are a deep red, and look very kissable. . . . Not that I’m in any position to do that right now, but she’s gorgeous.

“Mmf, mhmmm, guruhh?” I ask, which translates loosely as, “What happened to me?”

Apparently the nurse speaks mumble-ese. “You were in a nasty accident. You have a few broken bones, including your ribs, which punctured one of your lungs. You’re lucky to be alive. Apparently there was a young woman on the scene that pulled you out of your car and provided first aid until the paramedics arrived.”

An image of my hallucination girl flashes through my mind, but it’s blurry, and all I can really remember is her blue hair.

“Now, I know you just woke up, but I want to see how well your thinker’s thinking.” She smiles again, and I swear the lights brighten. “According to the documents in your car and wallet, they say that your name is Lyden Snow, correct?”

“Hrmf,” I reply positively.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to talk. Just blink once for yes, twice for no,” she tells me cheerily.

I blink once.

“Good! I like that name. It sounds strong. Now then. . .” she trails off as she consults her notebook. “We couldn’t seem to find any next of kin. It looks like your biological parents died some years ago by drowning in a lake. I’m truly sorry about that.” The way she talks, I have no doubt that she truly is saddened by my parent’s death. “No siblings and no extended relations we could find. Is that correct?”

One blink.

“It would seem that you’re slightly accident prone, also. Our records indicate that another young woman found you by the lake almost two days after your parents drowned. You’d been presumed dead until the girl found you.” Her blue eyes seem to bore into me with her questions. “How did you survive two whole days by that lake?”

I blink three times, not really able to answer her. The truth is that I really don’t know. I’d only been a kid at the time, and barely remember any of it. Brooke had found me on the beach, and I’d been in foster care till I was sixteen, when I’d struck out on my own. Brooke has always kept tabs on me, though, and even lives in the same apartment complex that I do now.

“Do you have a girlfriend or significant other we can contact?”

Two blinks. If only I had the courage to ask Brooke out. Many times I’ve been tempted to ask her on a date, but I’ve always been too intimidated by her beauty.

“Were you alone in the car at the time of the accident?”

I pause as I consider how to answer, and she notices my hesitation, one of her delicate eyebrows arching at my delay. I blink once.

“Hmm, are you sure? Your pants were undone, and there was evidence that there may have been. . . um. . . some sort of sexual situation that caused the accident.”

I try not to blink at all, not really knowing how to answer. I don’t even want to look her in the eyes, embarrassed by the thought of getting my dick sucked by a fantasy. After a few seconds she nods to herself and comes over to look at the medical equipment. Her name tag says Angela, and somehow I can make out the soft scent of vanilla and flowers. She jots a few things down on her clipboard and then heads for the door. She stops in the doorway and turns back to me, with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “I told you I was real, and now I know you can hear me.”

Despite the shock I feel at her words, and the pain my body is still in, her voice somehow makes my cock grow hard instantly.

* * * *

Over the next month as I go through physical therapy, and my body knits itself back together, I don’t see Angela again. There are a few times I suspect that I see her, but it’s always out of the corner of my eyes, and by the time I turn, the image is gone.

Well, I should say that I don’t see her when I’m awake. When I’m asleep and dreaming, she seems to be all I see. We never talk in my dreams, but always have sex. Sometimes she comes to me in the punk form I saw at work, and sometimes she comes to me in her nurse alter ego. Every night, I cum, and every morning I wake up and have to clean out my underwear from the night’s wet dream. With all the privacy afforded to me in the hospital, this doesn’t go unnoticed.

The rate at which I’m healing and recovering doesn’t go unnoticed either. What should have taken months to heal, took barely a single month.

“Do you think it’s all the testosterone in his system?” I happen to hear one nurse say, then clam up as she notices I’m close by. By the flush that spreads across her cheeks, there is no doubt she’s talking about me.

The day I’m finally released to my own care is dark and overcast as rain threatens to break at any moment from the ugly clouds above.

“Your ride should be here at any moment,” the large male nurse intones as he wheels me out of the front lobby. The wheelchair isn’t necessary for me to move, but apparently it’s hospital policy that every patient has to be wheeled out. Wouldn’t want someone tripping and suing them, I guess.

“And you say my hospital bill is already taken care of?” I still don’t know who would have paid it, but I don’t complain either.

“Lyden!” I hear in relief as I stand up from the wheelchair. I turn in time to see the passenger door to the Orange Bubble swing open. I stare in shock as there doesn’t seem to be a scratch on her. My old car even looks shinier than I’ve ever seen her before. I can’t even see the dent in the front fender where a shopping cart had hit it almost a year ago. “Hop in! We have a lot to talk about.”

There is no mistaking that short blue hair or those sparkling hazel eyes.

I’m frozen in place, not sure what to do or say. My delusion is driving my car. She pats the passenger seat, but I turn to see the nurse that’d wheeled me out is staring at her.

“You see her too?” I ask, almost afraid of the answer.

“Man, if that’s your girl, you’re one lucky bastard!”

I have my answer.

I have to use a crutch to make it to the car, and it takes me a second to get the thing into my cramped little car. I take a deep breath, before slipping onto the passenger seat, and closing my door.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” she tells me in her soft voice. She sticks a slender hand in front of me. “My name is Angela, and I’m a succubus.”

Okay, so I know that I really probably shouldn’t do it, but I can’t help myself. I burst out laughing. It feels so good to laugh after so long, and I laugh at just having the pleasant feeling of laughing. It takes me a couple minutes to calm down and quit laughing. I even have to wipe tears out of my eyes to clear them, and there is a new pain in my side from laughing so hard. The laughter dies, though as I turn back to her.

She is deadly serious. I don’t mean that she was serious in a stern sort of way. Oh no! I mean, there are real flames burning behind her hazel eyes. I can actually feel the heat washing over me, and I notice that she’s not watching the road, but easily swerves around a car going slow in the fast lane. Actually as I glance at the speedometer, I see she’s got the needle buried. I didn’t even know the Orange Bubble could go this fast. I’ve never dared push the old car too hard.

“Okay, okay, you’re a succubus. I’m sorry for laughing,” I try to backpedal. “I thought you all had bat wings, and sucked the life out of people when you had sex with them?”

The fires in her wide eyes dim slightly, and then vanish as she blinks. “I thought my wings might scare you. . . again,” she smiles at me, but it doesn’t quite touch her eyes. “As far as the sex, it really is our choice. Personally, I prefer to help people out when I can, giving them fantasies, or even healing their injuries.” She gives me a serious look. “That’s why you healed so quickly. My talents aren’t as strong while in your dreams, but now that you’ve been released. . .” She lets that hang in air, and this time the look of lust in her eyes is genuine and strong. Despite my growing concern with my own sanity, there is a corresponding growing bulge in my pants.

“Wha—what do you want from me?” I ask, picturing myself as a dried up husk, with only my manhood still alive. Aren’t succubusses—er. . . succubae?—supposed to be demonic creatures?

She still hasn’t looked at the road as she contemplates my question.

“You pique my curiosity,” she tells me, and then finally looks at the road. I do to, and realize that I have no idea where we are. Tall buildings surround us, and it looks like we’re downtown, but that’s almost an hour’s drive away from the hospital. She slows and pulls into a parking garage, and then moves my car into a stall marked ‘Reserved.’

I get ready to bolt, picturing this gorgeous, punked-out babe screwing me to death, and while that sounds like a fine way to go, I’m not ready to die.

“Would you relax?” she demands. “If I’d wanted you dead, I would have let you die in that accident, instead of spending a shit-ton of energy keeping you alive.” I look back at her, and feel myself getting drawn in by her eyes, but shake myself and look away. “Alright, here’s the deal. You can see and hear me, when no one else can, and when I don’t want you to. When no one
should
be able to see or hear me. I don’t understand why, or even how, but I’m curious. You’re a mystery to me, and I love mysteries. After being alive for over 400 years, it’s nice to come across something that I don’t understand.”

“F-four hundred?” I sputter.

“Yeah, I know. I’m still really young by succubae standards.” Really young? “Besides as I’d told you earlier, I like to help people, and you looked like you were really hating your life behind that desk. Also, I really do think you’re kinda cute. Especially now that we got rid of your glasses.”

My glasses? Reaching up to my nose, I realize my face is naked. Not only that, but I’m seeing perfectly fine. Nothing is blurry. In fact, everything looks sharper and more defined than it was with my glasses. When did I. . .? Thinking back, I don’t remember having them after the accident. I’ve been able to see just fine, and somehow never noticed their lack.

“Did you. . .?”

“Of course,” she replies as though it’s a foolish question. “I can’t be seen in the company of someone with such an obvious physical flaw.”

“Seen in. . .” For some reason, I have a hard time finishing sentences right now.  I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point I’ve decided not to flee. “I thought you were invisible to other people.” No, that can’t be right. The nurse at the hospital had seen her. “Or, you can be seen when you
want
to be.”

She nods and gets out of the car. Stunned at the direction my life has suddenly turned; I get out of the other side and pull out my crutch. I don’t notice my keys flying at me, until they hit my face.

Bending over to pick them up, I catch a glance at the underside of the Orange Bubble, and gasp. The usual series of pipes, cables, and shocks are gone, replaced with a single, smooth plate of metal. What happened to my car? I don’t think it looked this good when it rolled off the factory floor before I was born!

Standing back up, with keys in hand, I look from Angela, to my car, and back again.

“Oh yeah. Do you like?” She nearly bounces as she asks me that, and starts walking towards a doorway close to her parking spot. I guess sometimes she acts like a twenty year old girl, rather than a four-hundred year old succubus. “It was completely totaled after you ran it into that light pole, but I got a couple of Cyclopes buddies of someone I know to work on it. Now it’s better than new.”

I had started to follow her, but when she mentions ‘Cyclopes’ I freeze. “Cyclopes? I thought they were just myths.” Will I ever stop getting surprised by things? What kind of world have I stumbled into?

Angela only laughs as she steps lightly through the door. I have to hobble to catch up. “Myths like succubae seducing young, cute men?” I meet back up with her in time to enter an elevator, and she slides a keycard into a slot. The elevator starts up on its own.

“Do you live here?” I ask as the metal box seems to keep climbing forever.

“In the building? No.” There is a strange look in her eyes, and I decide not to ask further questions.

When the doors finally open, I follow her out, and once again, I’m confronted by something my mind doesn’t want to accept.

For as far as I can see, there are fields of flowers and grass, and even an orchard off in the distance. I turn around just in time to see the bark of a massive oak tree knit itself back together.

“Where are the buildings?” I ask, and even I can hear the edge of insanity as it starts creeping into my voice.

“This is where I live,” she tells me easily, then takes my free hand. I use my crutch with the other to walk beside her. I notice the same scent of vanilla and flowers in the air, which I’d noticed on her in the hospital.

“I’m not supposed to bring humans here, but I suspect you’re more than human.”

More than human? Of course I’m human!
I decide not to argue with her, though. There’s too much I don’t understand.

Looking over to the young woman with the blue hair and punk clothes—this time it’s a blue or purple slashed summer dress that barely covers her hips--I can’t see this being where she lives. It just doesn’t match her. “A punk girl like you lives in a field of flowers?”

She laughs happily, and I notice a tension that had been in her before is now gone. She seems happier and a lot more relaxed. “I can look like anything I want to. When you first saw me, I’d decided to take on the appearance of that old man’s fantasy. Even I’ve forgotten what I looked like when I was still mortal.”

There’s so much there, that I don’t know where to start. Thomas had been having a fantasy about a punk girl? She can see fantasies? Okay, that one’s a dumb question; she’s a succubus after all, didn’t she say she can create fantasies? When she was mortal?

“You weren’t
born
as a succubus?” I ask in awe.