The Succubae Seduction: Chapters 15-19 - Sex Stories

The Succubae Seduction: Chapters 15-19

... you recognize it,” the woman says, satisfaction in her voice. Drat! She’s good, I realize, knowing I’m out-matched. I can’t give in yet though. “Recognize it?” I say, trying to look calmly back at the woman. “Looks impressive. Who did the Photoshop work?” Aggravatingly, her smile deepens. “Let’s dispense with this game, shall we?” Her voice is triumphant as she speaks. “We both know that is you. We both know that you somehow leaped over the fence with these wings and crashed your old-style Volkswagen Beetle through the front gate, driving away.” I keep quiet, and she seems to take that for assent. “What I’d like to know, is how you made those wings, and used them.” Wait. . . . What? She doesn’t want to know why I broke my car out, or why I’m holding an unconscious woman in my arms? Too late, I realize this must be another of her efforts to throw me off balance. She really is good. I concentrate on her again, trying to read something from her, but only come away with her name. Well, it’ll have to be good enough. The only question now is how much of my hand to play, and how much to bluff. “Agent Olsen—may I call you Miranda?—you wanted to dispense of games, let’s do so.” If she’s shocked by my knowledge of her name, it doesn’t show. “What do you really want to know?” She regards me for a second, before reaching out and pulling the incriminating picture back. She doesn’t put it away, but instead pulls another picture out, and lays it next to the first. It takes a bit of effort ...

... not to gulp as I see this one. The image isn’t as clear, but I’m still able to make out enough details to recognize the grocery store parking lot, where the Myrmidon had attacked Jennifer and me. The fire ant creature is blowing fire at me, and I know that this is the moment of my car’s demise. Another image follows, and I almost fail to stifle a groan. In this one, I’m lying on top of my car, wings out and draped down the side of my car as it drives away from my burning apartment building. “You asked what I want to know, Mr. Snow,” her calm face actually breaks at the unintended rhyme, the corner of her mouth dipping just slightly. The crack in her façade lasts only a second, before she’s all cool business again. “It’s simple, really. I want to know what you are.” Her brown eyes pierce me again, and I have to look down at the images, in order not to crack under their glare. What can I tell her that she’ll believe? The truth is too far-fetched, but the evidence is in those pictures. Can I tell her the wings are just a mechanical attachment? A quick glance up at her face tells me I’d better not try. If I tell her what I am, and about the Shadow World, she’ll have me locked up in a loony bin. Or worse, if she believes me, I’ll find myself being studied by scientists, and possibly dissected. I guess there is only one thing to do, and hope it doesn’t get me locked up in a psyche ward. I’m way too weak to break out of here. “I’m the child of a mermaid, and something else,” I begin. ...