The Sophisticated Succubus

Jezel cupped the glass of wine in her hands as she stared at the empty fireplace. Being the middle of summer, it had not been used for several months. Even more, on that particular night, it was the hottest it had been all season. Still, as she lazily fanned herself with her tail, Jezel toyed with the idea of starting a fire.
Jezel was a succubus, though at the moment one would have had a hard time telling. She was curled up with her knees to her chest in a large armchair to the side of the hearth. Her dark wings wrapped around her like a protective cocoon. Her silver-ish purple hair was, bluntly put, a mess. Half of it was flying every which direction, while the other half seemed to attack her face every time she moved her head. She wore a simple night-gown, nothing more than a very long cotton shirt. It covered everything and was incredibly loose, making her look like a heap of linens with a head sticking out. But it was comfortable, and Jezel had a need for comfort tonight.
She took a sip of her wine (chilled white, of course, to deal with the summer heat) and passed her mind over the events of the day. She let out a sigh as her thoughts turned to that man-child, Sitri. As one of the Great Princes of Hell, he ought to comport himself better!  A noble-demon herself, Jezel was invited to attend whenever Hell's court was held. Though she usually came up with some appropriate excuse to not attend, there were only so many times that she could say no. This time, the Prince had arrived several hours late, coming in with a whole procession of naked mortals, disrupting the entire council. Hell only knew why Asmodeus kept him as his tactician.
Jezel's eyes flickered to the small, book-sized picture on the mantel. There it stood, alone, atop the fireplace, encased in a simple silver frame. The picture, or rather, drawing, was a small sketch of a man's face. The man was young, perhaps in his late twenties. He looked sternly out at Jezel, his dark eyes fathomless. His face was hard, with defined cheek bones and stiff jaw. Long, black, wavy hair topped his head, and came crashing down besides his ears.
Entranced, Jezel muttered, "What would you have done, Rhaen?" After an unusually large gulp of wine, she returned to her day. After the council, she had visited her friend, Xaquel, in order to console her. Xaquel, a minor demon, though still of noble blood, had recently been engaged to an eligible bachelor, Ycktrib. Ycktrib was of a higher house than Xaquel, so the marriage would have been quite a catch for her, in many ways. However, with the wedding day fast approaching, it appeared that Ycktrib had gotten cold feet and had called the engagement off. And so, Jezel had sat with her friend for hours, wiping away her tears, consoling her, and listening to her endless wails.
Jezel rubbed her temples, trying to ameliorate the raging headache that she had. "My pillar," Xaquel had called her. Ah, but what happens when the pillar needs support?
Despite having eaten a banquet at Xaquel's house (just because she was in distress did not mean that Xaquel had forgotten how to be a proper host), Jezel was suddenly reminded of how hungry she was. It was a hunger that she had carried for fifteen years now.
Reflexively, her eyes turned to the drawing again. Damn you Rhaen, she thought. Why did I ever have to meet you?
Suddenly, she was pulled out of her reverie as she heard the front door opening. Reaching out with her mind, she sensed a creature entering her castle. As a demon of noble blood, Jezel held pieces of land in many places, but, despite the commute to Hell, she preferred living in the mortal realm. Specifically, she lived in an old, stone castle, long abandoned by the humans who had built it. Except for one small village that was a few miles away, there were no other settlements for leagues around. As such, she never locked any of her doors. Who would be foolish enough to enter?
In a flash, she was up, looking about the room. It was a large room, completely built of stone. Ornate tapestries hung on the walls, while a large rug occupied the floor. To each side of the fireplace was a large armchair, while two couches completed the circle.
Good, she thought. The room is ready to receive guests. With a mere thought, her hair brushed itself out, flowing beautifully down her back. Meanwhile, her nightgown changed from brown cotton to purple silk, as it stretched in some places and tightened in others. When it was finished, it had become a strapless purple dress, with revealing cleavage and a long thigh slit. Gold high heels materialized on her feet, and her long nails became painted the same gold color. Finally, perfectly administered purple lipstick appeared on her lips. Even her wine glass changed, becoming wider and deeper and growing a stem. The wine inside went from white to red (of course she would never drink it! Not in this weather. But, of course, sacrifices had to be made for the sake of appearance.)
Closing her eyes, she reached out to the intruder with her mind. She sensed a young boy, full of fear, excitement, and, yes, hatred. Though her first instinct was to hide her horns, wings and tail, upon sensing this last emotion she brought them all out again. This boy needed her to be a monster. She would not be so rude as to disappoint him.
Finished, she looked in the mirror that hung over the mantle. There was no doubt that she was truly beautiful. Her face was soft and kind, but though she had no wrinkles, her eyes gave a sense of unimaginable age. Her body could have been described as statuesque. Not counting her shoes or horns, she easily reached six feet in height. She was appropriately curvy in all the right places, but her waist was not unrealistically thin. Her thighs were thick and powerful, and the slit in her dress showcased them wonderfully.
Satisfied with her appearance, she closed her eyes and reached out once more. This time, however, she used her powers to close all of the doors in the castle, except the ones between the youth and herself. Lastly, she positioned herself next to the fireplace, one hand holding her glass, the other hand resting on the mantle. She then looked off into the distance.
Unfortunately, she had to hold that pose for several minutes, but such things had to be done in order for appearances. Finally, she sensed the boy entering the room.
"Welcome," she said, still not looking at the boy, "It has been so long since I've entertained guests. Please, make yourself at home." Dramatically, she turned to look at the boy...and found her heart jumping into her throat.
The young boy held a sword in his hands. But that was not what had taken her aback. The boy had dark eyes and black hair. He had high cheek bones and a defined jaw.
Unable to control herself, Jezel whispered, "Rhaen!" Could it be possible? She thought hopefully.
"That's right!" The young boy exclaimed, trying his hardest to make his voice sound deeper than it was. "I've come to kill you and avenge my father! Only then will my mother be well again!"
Jezel sighed, disappointed. Of course. She thought, His son. Back in control of herself, Jezel calmly began, "Boy, why don't-;"
"I'm not a boy!" The boy interrupted. "I'm eighteen!"
The succubus suppressed a smile. "I apologize. Young man, I suggest that you put that sword down. We're both mature people. I'm sure we can discuss this. I recall the events to which you refer, and I can assure you that this is a misunderstanding."
The boy shook his head violently. "No! You're a succubus! I won't give you time to work your magicks on me! Now, die!" The boy charged from the doorway straight at Jezel. Calmly, Jezel took a sip of wine from her glass (disgusting! But then again, the importance of appearances!). As the boy charged forward, the rug seemed to lift itself up ever so slightly, tripping the boy. As the boy fell heavily to the floor, the sword flung wildly above him. As it came twirling down, Jezel gracefully plucked it out of the air by its hilt, stopping it just before it buried itself deep within the young man's back.
Laying the sword on the ground, Jezel sighed deeply. It seemed like she spent more and more of her time dealing with fools. But, at least this one could blame his age, unlike Sitri. Delicately, Jezel kneeled down beside the boy. Having hit his head, the boy had passed out, but appeared to be in no immediate danger. As she reached over to pick him up, she received a whiff of his scent. Immediately, her hunger flared up, and she found herself drooling. Damn it! He was so young and fresh! And to make things worse, he smelled just like Rhaen. And it had been so long…
Shaking her head, Jezel came to her senses. Muttering to herself, she picked the young man up easily, and exited the room. As she left, the sketch of the man watched her, judging her with his dark, fathomless eyes.


The first thing the young man noticed upon waking up was that he had a splitting headache. The second was that, while he was in a bed, he was not in his bed. Jerking straight up, he looked at his surroundings. The bed he was lying on was incredibly large: almost five times his width. He was practically surrounded by pillows, all decorated with cute cartoonish animals. The bed itself struck a good balance between soft and firm, and was covered by delicate silk coverings.
The room he was in was small, but inviting. A dresser, bookshelf, desk and full length mirror lined the walls, while the walls themselves were covered in cheerful light blue wallpaper. To the side of the bed, two large windows cast morning light, illuminating the room.
As the young man slowly gathered his bearings, the door opened without warning. There, in the frame of the doorway, stood the succubus, though she looked completely different than how she did the previous night. Her tail and wings were gone, and while she still had horns, they had been reduced to small protrusions. She wore a very traditional red dress, which covered her completely from the neck down to her feet. On top of this, she wore a plain white apron. Her purple hair was in a bun, and she wore half-rim glasses on the tip of her nose.
"Ah, you're awake! I trust you slept well?" Uninvited, she entered the room, occupying herself with opening the windows, tidying up the room, and other, non-demonic activities. Cautiously, the young man searched for his sword, but was distressed to find that it was nowhere in sight.
"How do you like your eggs, dear?" The succubus continued cheerfully. "I can make them scrambled, poached, sunny-side up, or hard-boiled."
Sheepishly, the boy answered, "Umm, I don't like eggs."
The succubus stopped mid-step and looked at him. "Oh my," she said, as if she had just heard that she had missed her train. "Well then, do you like tea and scones?"
The boy tentatively nodded his head, even though he wasn't sure what a 'scone' was. As the succubus bustled out of the room, the young man called out after her, "Umm, did you…? Did we-?"
The succubus giggled, rather strangely for someone of her age. "All I did was carry you to bed last night. I even resisted washing your clothes, as I thought you would be uncomfortable being undressed." The young man looked down, and noticed that he was, in fact, still wearing the same clothes from last night. "Now, when you're ready, there is a fresh set of clothes in the dresser next to the bed, and you can come out and join me for breakfast. Then we'll discuss the reason why you are here." The succubus left the room, leaving the boy bewildered in the bed.
After a few moments of consideration, the young man stood onto his feet and followed the demon out of the room. He chose not to change out of his clothes, as he did not feel like removing his last defense against the succubus, even for a moment. Though, he thought, it would not be much of a defense if she decided to be serious about hurting him.
As with the night before, practically all of the doors in the castle were closed and locked. Only one door in each room was open, forming a path that the young man assumed he was to follow. Passing several rooms and halls, he eventually found himself in the room in which he had confronted the succubus the previous night. However, the morning sun gave the room a much more happy light than when he had been there before.
The succubus delicately sat at the edge of one of the couches, sipping some tea from a fine porcelain cup. Setting the cup down, she motioned to the couch across from her. "Please, do sit down." Motioning again towards the food on the short table in front of her, she said, "Help yourself to some scones and sandwiches. I admit, this is more of an afternoon meal, but I had a strange craving for them."
The young man sat down where she had indicated and looked at the arrangement of food. There were three plates set in a device so that they were set one over the other, with enough space for food to be placed on them. On the top-most plates were craggy, irregularly shaped things that had a beige hue. On the middle plate were small sandwiches, and on the last plate were two slices of chocolate cake. To the side of the tower of plates were several small bowls filled with cream and jam.
He watched with fascination as the succubus took a craggy pastry (the boy guessed that these were the 'scones'), cut it in half, and proceed to spread out jam and cream. The young man's resolve not to eat anything quickly dissolved as his mouth began to water. After all, if she had wanted him dead, she could have easily killed him during the night…
Cautiously, he picked up a "scone" and cut it in half. He mimicked what the succubus had done and added cream and jam. Sniffing it, he took a tentative nibble. His eyes widened as a rush of warm, buttery, soft, delicious sensations rushed into his mouth. With reckless abandon he devoured the scone and was already reaching for a second before he had even finished swallowing the first.
The succubus smiled broadly, happy that the young man enjoyed her food so much. After waiting a few moments for the boy to finish his second scone, she began to speak. "Well then, now that you have some food in your stomach, allow me to introduce myself. I am Jezel, a Countess of the second circle. May I ask, what is your name?"
The boy, who had just stuffed a small sandwich into his mouth, replied, "Phwedwih!" Realizing that this was not as clear as it could be, the young man swallowed the sandwich whole and repeated, "Frederick."
Despite being well-trained in etiquette, Jezel was unable to suppress her look of disgust and awe. However, she quickly recovered and said, "Frederick, it's a pleasure to meet you. Now then, I believe that you are accusing me of the death of your father?"
Frederick shook his head. His voice trembled with anger and suffering, "No, I accuse you of far worse. First, you seduced my father and took him away with you. Then, you came back just to taunt my mother as you killed him before her very eyes. You didn't even let her bury him. My mother went mad from grief and betrayal. Now, she lies on her death bed, with Lord knows how many days left to live. However, yesterday, she seemed lucid for the first time in years. She summoned me to her side and told me that her final request was for me to kill you, and bring back my father's wedding ring, which you stole!"
Jezel was silent, as she delicately sipped at her tea. Finally, she placed the cup on its saucer and stared straight at the boy. "Your father's name was Rhaen, correct?"
The boy nodded his head.
Jezel sighed and continued. "I'm sorry for you and your mother. Though you may not believe me, I never meant her any harm." The boy snorted an objection, but Jezel continued. "However, I did not kill your father, though perhaps I am somewhat responsible for his death. If you will let me, I can explain to you the truth of the events of which you speak."
Again, the boy nodded.
Jezel looked out the window, her eyes unfocusing and her expression becoming dreamy.  "The story begins slightly more than fifteen years ago…"


Back then, I was the cold hearted monster that you think I am. Though I was already a countess by that time, I hardly acted like it. I did not attend court, I did not manage my affairs, and I certainly did not act nobly. I lived a hedonistic lifestyle: eating, drinking, and, of course, doing what succubae do.
For you see, in order to live, succubae and incubi feed off of the souls of mortals. The soul is usually, but not necessarily, sucked out during the course of intimate physical relations. For the purposes of surviving, a succubus only needs to feed on a soul once every month or so. But fifteen years ago, I was eating souls two or three times a day.
But that all changed, when I came to a village not a few miles away from here. At that time, I had not started living in this castle yet, so I had never seen this village before. Looking for some amusement, I entered the town and looked for an appropriate victim.
That's how I met your father. I entered his house (such a feat is child's play for a succubus) and crept into his room. I don't know where your mother was. At the time, I didn't even know that the man was married. All I knew was that there was another toy for me to play with.
When I entered the room, Rhaen was in the bathroom, so I slid onto his bed, barely dressed, and awaited his return. When he re-entered the bedroom, I said to him, "Hello there. Are you ready for the best night of your life?"
Do you know what he said to me? Me, one of the most renowned succubae? He said, completely nonchalantly, "Get out of my house."
I was utterly flabbergasted. You have to understand, no one had ever resisted my advances before. In fact, to this day, it's practically unheard of for a mortal to refuse a succubus.
"I don't think you understand," I said to him. "My body is yours to do with as you wish."
"No," he said, "You're the one who doesn't understand. I have no need of your body. You're going to remove yourself from this house, or else I will do it for you."
"But what's wrong!" I was practically hysterical at this point. "Am I not beautiful? Am I not everything for which you have ever dreamed?"
And he simply looked at me, as one would look at a drunkard. "No. I'm already married to my dream girl. Compared to my wife, your beauty is nothing. Now get out."
I couldn't believe it. Here, in this backwater village was a man who could resist my charms. So I panicked. I grabbed him and flew out into the night. After an hour or so, I found this castle, which I decided would be a perfect place to break his spirit. But no matter how much I tried, I was not able to seduce him that night.
The next day, while I kept him locked in a room, I went back to the village. It was easy enough to find your mother: she was the woman trying to find her husband. I spent a few hours, watching her. When I felt confident enough, I returned to the castle and disguised myself as her. Unlocking the door, I entered the room and said, "Oh, Rhaen! Thank goodness I've found you!" and threw myself at him. But he tossed me aside and ran for the door. When I finally caught him again, I asked him how he had known it wasn't his wife.
He simply said, "You cannot fool true love."
They days passed, and I tried everything I could to seduce him. I cooked him food, I starved him, I ordered and I begged, but nothing I did could ever change his mind. The only thing he would ever say was, "Let me go."
One day, about a week after I had captured him, I asked, "Just what is so great about this wife of yours? Why would you choose her over me! I can do anything you want!"
He just smiled at me. "Ah, it's precisely because she doesn't do anything that I want that I love her. We argue and we fight. Sometimes she hurts me deeply. But I know it's because she cares about me. She's not afraid to tell me if I'm being a fool, nor is she afraid to fight for me. Why would I give that up, just for a cheap imitation? Besides," he added, "How could my son learn respect and duty if I set such a poor example?"
The days turned into weeks, and with each passing day I found myself more and more obsessed with this man. My plan had backfired: I was the one being seduced. I did everything for him: I cooked his food, I cleaned his clothes, I made his bed, and still he did not want to be with me.
Once, after I had refused his request to leave, he asked me if I knew what love was. I admitted that to a succubus, such a word had little meaning. We were well acquainted with lust, but it often bewildered us why humans would pair together for life. Upon hearing this, he smiled very sadly and said only, "I see."
But unknown to me, I had already fallen in love. I hardly left the castle anymore. Every waking moment I wanted to spend with this incredible person. In fact, ever since meeting Rhaen I hadn't consumed a single soul. I could feel myself getting weaker by the day. And so, almost a month after I took your father, I gave in. I told him he could leave. As soon as I told him this, he left without a word. No goodbye. No thanks or curses. He left without a word, as if I weren't worth the time.
But, several hours after letting him go, I regretted my decision. I couldn't live without him, even if he didn't care for me. So I flew back to the village, determined to recapture him. But fate can sometimes be very cruel.
When I arrived at your house, I was shocked to find it in flames. To this day, I still do not know how it was started. But I believe that it happened, coincidentally, right before your father arrived. Just as I landed in front of it, Rhaen burst through the door and collapsed at my feet. He was horribly burnt, and it was clear that he would not last long.
As I knelt beside him, he saw me and grabbed my arm. "Save them!" he cried. "My wife and son, I heard their voices inside, but I couldn't reach them. Please, you must!"
I shook my head. "I'm too weak," I said. "I haven't feasted on any souls in a month. I am near death."
"Then take mine," he said, without hesitation. "Use it to save my family."
How fate likes its little jokes! I had finally received what, for the past month, I had wanted desperately, but when I got it, I no longer wanted it. But how could I resist my love? I bent over him, and gave him a succubus' kiss. Through the touching of our lips, I felt his soul leave his body and pass to mine. But I did not take all of it. For you see, contrary to what you might think, a soul is a hardy thing. One can devour a part of it, but as long as some of it remains, it can regenerate. Of course, the person having his soul eaten will feel lethargic, depressed, and listless for a week, but he will eventually return to his former self.
As soon as I felt his soul within me, all of my strength returned. It was nothing for me to enter the house and rescue you and your mother. Fortunately, you had managed to seal yourself in the bath tub, so you weren't burned, but both of you had fallen unconscious from smoke inhalation. After I finished my task, I returned to your father and gently picked him up.
"Where are you taking me?" he asked.
"Your wife may have your heart," I told him, "But I will have the comfort of burying your body."
With difficulty, he removed his wedding ring and placed it into my hand. "Very well, but please, give this to my wife. Let her know that I love her, and that I've always stayed true." Then, he chuckled. "Thank you. I'm sorry…for everything. I hope, someday, that you will find someone you love, who will love you too." With that, he passed away.


Jezel paused, and looked at her feet. Carefully, she wiped a budding tear from her eye. She looked at Frederick, the boy who looked so much like Rhaen. "You're father was a cruel man," she said, not unkindly. "How could he have done so much to me? Not only did he not return my love, he made me save my rival! And then, to add insult to injury, he wanted me to tell this woman—this woman who was the reason why Rhaen could not love me—that Rhaen didn't care for me." She closed her eyes and shuddered. "Forgive me. But I couldn't. I took his body and his ring and never looked back."
The two sat in silence, neither one looking at the other. Frederick's mind was full of conflicting thoughts and emotions. He was proud of his father for his strength, yet he was sad that this seemingly nice woman had to be put through such pain. What should he do now? He doubted he had the strength to kill this succubus, even if he wanted to. But how could he go back to his mother empty handed?
"Do you have the ring?" He asked.
Jezel nodded. Wordlessly, she stood up and walked to the mantel. Picking up the sketch, she turned it over and removed the back of the frame. Underneath it, along with the drawing of Rhaen, was the ring. Jezel took it and handed it to Frederick.
"Here it is," she said slowly. "I also trapped the remainder of your father's soul in there. Bring it to your mother and have her wear it. His soul and memories should flow into her, and when she dies, both of their souls will go to the afterlife together."
Ring in hand, the young man turned and headed for the door. When he reached the threshold he stopped, and turned to face her.
"It was wrong of you to take my father," he began. "But I think you were punished enough by his manipulation of you. If it means anything, I forgive you. And I think my father would have, too. Perhaps, in another life, the two of you could have been together."
Jezel watched as the boy left the room, and she followed him out of the castle with her mind. Sighing, she wiped the tears from her eyes again. "No Frederick," she said to herself, "We could never have been together. For if he had loved me, then he would just have become another one of my victims, I would have remained a monster forever."


A week passed, and though the first few days had been heart-wrenching, Jezel had noticed a change occurring within her. For the first time in ages, she felt clean. She was clear of all debts, and she could now go back to her normal life. Of course, she still felt the hunger. Ever since she had met Rhaen, she had vowed never to eat an entire soul ever again. But even so, the hunger felt more bearable than before. Hell, even Sitri seemed less insufferable.
Eight days after the young boy had entered her castle, Jezel found herself once again curled up on her couch. She was in her comfortable night gown, sipping some calming tea, staring at the fireplace. Rhaen's picture was no longer on the mantle; she had put it away in a cupboard. His dark eyes would not judge her anymore.
Suddenly, she felt a presence entering her house. Sensing it, she was surprised to find that it was Frederick. She quickly stood up, morphing her clothes into something more appropriate, but then stopped. She had already bared her soul this boy. What did it matter what she looked like?
A few moments later, Frederick entered the room. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, his hair was a mess, and bags were under his eyes. Slung across his shoulder was a large bag. Jezel motioned him to the opposite couch, where he sat down.
After taking a few breaths, he said, "My mother has passed away."
"I'm sorry for your loss," Jezel said and was surprised to find that she meant it. She no longer hated this woman for preventing Rhaen from loving her. She was at peace with it.
"It's alright. She passed away very peacefully." He stopped, and his gaze unfocused. Looking up again, he continued. "I did as you told me. I put the ring on her finger, and all of a sudden, her madness broke. She looked at me and said, 'I knew it. I knew your father stayed true to me.'"
Jezel sipped her tea and waited patiently.
"She wanted me to tell you that she forgives you."
Jezel was silent. Eventually, she made a sound like, "Mmm-hmm."
Frederick started fidgeting with his hands. "Well, to be honest, that's not the only reason why I'm here." He looked up at her, pleadingly. "I don't have anywhere to go. I have no family left and I can't stay in that house any longer. So, I was wondering if I could stay with you. You can say no if you want-"
Jezel threw her head back and laughed. She laughed and laughed and laughed, until her sides ached and her lungs were on fire. Frederick sat there, bewildered, watching this woman collapse on the couch in front of him.
When she finished, Frederick gathered himself up and said, "I'll take that as a no. Okay, I guess I'll-"
"Hold on there, young man. I didn't say that." Jezel took a deep breath. "I was just marveling at another one of Fate's cruel jokes. If this is what you truly want, I will let you stay here. But be warned: I am a demon, and so are many of my friends. While I treat humans with respect, there are others of my kind who will view you only as food. I'll do my best to protect you, but there will be some risk. Is that alright?"
Frederick stood there a moment, but eventually answered, "Yes. I'd rather be here, creating a new life for myself, than stay at the village and be haunted by my memories."
Jezel led the young man up to the guest room, and prepared his bed for him. After he had been tucked in, she returned to the living room. What is the matter with me , she thought. Surely, I'm not still trying to find an imitation Rhaen?  
        But even as she thought this, she knew it was false. By coming into her life, Frederick had stirred a feeling within her that she had not even known she possessed: a maternal instinct.
Looking into the fireplace, she realized that this was the beginning of a new stage in her life, and even more surprising, that she was looking forward to it.