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A self made woman She was hungry. Humans did not understand the term, even a famine victim was more easily fed than she was. She needed a very special diet, especially at this time of her cycle. The bar was packed, and the name, the Meet Market was only vaguely amusing. She had come here for the same reason as the humans had, sort of. They had an appetite just as she did, and they came to feed it. Her diet was more... comprehensive. She had considered different looks. The business woman ready to spread her legs long enough to take care of a craving she refused to admit. The soccer mom not getting her needs meant, the nymphomaniac who would take anyone with a penis and a pulse. She had gone mildly goth, her hair was now mid length unrelieved black, her make up pale and her lips almost the color of blood. She sipped her overly sweet drink, and licked them, wishing the lipstick was real blood, rich and warm, satisfying in so many ways. A man jostled her, and she reached out mentally, judging his thoughts. There were few, mainly inchoate. Too much to drink already. Taking him would be like kissing an ashtray. There. She sensed a man farther down the bar. He was nondescript. He could come here every night and the no one who would recognize that he was here unless he sat in the same waitress' section. But no. He had so little of life, and she needed so much. There, just past the one she had just looked at. One of those men who thought he was god's gift to the females of the race. She could sense how the women were reacting; obviously this was his favorite hang out. It would also be his last hangout. She stood, stalking down the bar. To a viewer from behind there was a feline grace to her stride. Her hips rolled seductively, and she knew there were those behind her who wished she had gone their way instead. The man she had discarded stood, bumping into her, throwing her pace off slightly. He caught her instinctively, looking into her eyes, then away, nodding his head. "Sorry." "No harm done, she husked. "Perhaps one night you and I..." The phrase ended on a questioning note, and he smiled sadly. "No, you'd be wasting your time with me." Maybe not, she considered. She reached into the cup of her bra, and handed him a card. "Perhaps you just need to find the right woman. Call me." She pushed gently past him, headed for her quarry. Behind her she could feel a small wave of regret. She smiled, though it was for the man she had spoken to, not for the one before her. ***** Jeremy MacDonald watched the woman walk away, and he wished he were different. He'd always been shy, and there is nothing more debilitating for a sexual relationship than that. He watched the woman walk over to her target like a cat stalking a terrified mouse. The man just sat there as she wove one long leg around his hip, pulling him from the bar stool. She kissed him, mouth open, tongue forcing itself down his throat for a moment. Then she ran a hand gently down his face, nails grazing his flesh; she stood tugging him toward the rear parking lot door. Jeremy tipped his glass toward the pair, then turned back to the bar. ***** She was out of that stifling place, looking for the perfect place to feed. Since humanity had begun overpopulating the planet places like this were more common. Fewer places to dine quietly. She finally looked into his mind. His car was over there, not the fine vehicle he intended to boast about; rather an older car. At least it had a large enough back seat for what she needed to do. She took his arm as if they were lovers, pushing him toward the car. He fumbled with the keys, his mind running through taking her to his place, a dingy little apartment across town. She didn't want to wait. She was hungry now. He opened the door, motioning, and she reached inside, unlocking the back door. Then she opened it. She pulled him to her, then turned shoving him ahead. She leopard crawled in after him, pulling the door closed. Then her hands fell to his belt, ripping his pants open. "Hey, there's no rush!" he whined. She caught him in her hand, looking up. "I am hungry now. And I will feed." His retort died in his throat as she sucked him deep into her mouth. She could feel her teeth sharpening, and angrily controlled herself. She was hungry, she spent too much of her time hungry these days. These humans were a pallid meal compared to latter days. She could not feed as she once had to repletion. These days two or three bodies in a single night would draw too much attention. He was firm in her mouth, and she rose, pushing him back until he sat on the back seat, and she straddled him. "Oh that is great." He gasped as she plunged down, taking his length into her. She wriggled her hips, making sure he was fully seated. There was little finesse involved in what she was about to do, but she had always been fastidious in her dining. She rose from his lap until he was almost out of her body, then came back down, drawing a moan from him. Then she began moving, faster and faster. He tried to get her blouse open, but she merely kept moving, forcing him to hold on for dear life. "Yes, it is great," she whispered in his ear. She could feel his climax approaching, and her teeth elongated. "But it gets better, for me." ***** Jeremy walked out of the bar, sighing into the late evening sky. He only went to the blasted bar because it was closest to his home. It had started as just a local place a lot like Cheers from the TV show, and had gone through many incarnations since. A country western hangout, a sports bar, an Irish pub, his personal favorite, and now a pick up joint. Stolidly he had kept coming, even though only one of those incarnations had been something he liked. He started walking, headed across the parking lot. He lived a block away, but never drank enough to make such a short walk dangerous. He walked toward the street, then heard something odd, a moaning gasp as if someone were slowly bleeding to death. His feet moved him further toward one of the cars in the lot. He leaned forward, hand blocking outside light. Not five feet away a man was dying. He had reached his peak a few seconds ago, but as his body tensed to deliver its load into the waiting vagina everything had gone very, very wrong. Suddenly, the woman had locked her lips with his and started sucking in a way that no mortal woman could. He would have screamed but his very breath along with his mind and essence was inexorably pulled into the maw of the creature. A weak flail as ribbons of incalculable cold void penetrated his body was his final act as he died. It was several long seconds before Jeremy's eyes shifted to accommodate the low light and looking into the car was something out of a vampire horror movies. A form, which for an instant more was recognizable as a man, was locked in a death kiss with something that might have been mistaken for a mere woman. A final pulse of soft energy passed from the man and played on the ruby lips of the woman- thing. Then the empty husk of the man collapsed on his side. Jeremy's mind rebelled, refused to accept what he was seeing, and like a deer in headlights, for a crucial second he froze. His pause signed his doom. The succubus looked over to the newcomer and recognized the man that had witnessed the result of its feeding and smiled as if his discomfiture was a fine after dinner chocolate mint. Jers mind finally processed the command to get the hell out had been sent to his limbs, but he barely had time to even think about turning before he was compelled to freeze as the woman-thing looked on, its eyes burned an unholy crimson. He watched unable to flee as her hand pushed the door open. The succubus wasn't really hungry anymore as she approached the mentally dominated man, licking her lips, her earlier kill had seen to that, but she could have eaten again. "Get in," she ordered, and his mind screamed as he slid into the car. He could see razor teeth in her smile, and she seemed to enjoy the fear he was radiating. Jeremy could only watch helpless as this inhuman predator approached with him with malicious intent. The succubus bared her breasts, leaning over him, her breasts rubbing his lips. "Suck them. I'll help you find the right kind of woman." He bent forward, and her nipple slid between his lips. He sucked, and his eyes widened as milk, rich and sweet filled his mouth. She purred as he sucked deeper, swallowing the nectar. "Yes, my pet, drink deep, form it in your mind. Feel it in your soul. You are mine, body and soul. And soon you will find a worthy feast." He gasped as her hand closed on his member, and he felt it like a cattle prod rammed into him. "No, that you will not have. But you will know this feeling again. You will drink, and you will grow strong, and only then will you feed." She gasped as the milk ran out, and pushed his face to the other breast. He took it unthinking, and she felt the milk vanish into him, becoming him, making him what she wanted. Her breasts drained, she leaned back, still cupping him in her hand. "This I will take, after all, you have taken my fluids, and I must replenish." She lowered her mouth, sucking him into her mouth. He gasped, then came, and she drank it down with satisfaction. She lifted, up, lips brushing his. "You will call, I swear it. Now do up your pants and go before someone else comes." She stepped from the car, waiting until he staggered to his feet. "Go." She closed the door as he staggered toward the street. Soon. II Jeremy went through the day in a blur. He had gotten home, falling on his face on his bed. He remembered... No he didn't remember. He just thought it had been a dream, a woman sucking a man's essence from him like a vacuum cleaner even as she took his last burst of sperm. Then grabbing Jeremy. And the milk. He had never tasted such a sweet drink in his life, and he wanted more of it. Too bad it was a dream. He worked, but he didn't remember much of what he did. His cubicle looked barren, and part of him wanted to spruce it up somehow. But he could not think of what to do with it. His hand brushed the pocket where the card he had been given rested. It was for a dairy of all things. But the last line caught in his mind. "Truly unique milk, available for home delivery. Samples upon request." He reached his last break before his resistance crumpled. He picked up the outside line, and dialed. "Leeanan milk, home delivery." A bright chirpy voice picked up the phone. "Yes, I was given a card last night. It says you give samples upon request?" "Of course. I have your file up in front of me. Will a pint do?" "Wait, how do you have a file on me?" "Our sales people are wizards," she replied. "Will a pint do? Or perhaps a quart?" "I don't know. How much is the home delivery service?" She quote a price that was ridiculous, not because it was so high, but because it was so cheap. Milk at a store was about two bucks a gallon, but she was quoting 75 cents for the same amount. "I don't know." "How about our welcome assortment?" she pressed. "A quart of milk, four yogurts in flavors you choose, and a one pound pot of Sakura soft cheese?" "All right," he considered. He chose four flavors of yogurt that were usually not bland. She hung up before getting his address, and he looked at the phone confused. The last hours dragged past, and he walked out of the office to catch the bus. It was the usual drag that settled his life down. He jumped out at his stop, walking the two blocks to his apartment. He walked up the steps, pausing at the small crate that sat before his door. The milk that had been promised was already delivered. He knelt, lifting the milk bottle. There was a POG that looked like a Celtic demon sitting on a man's lap while sipping a glass of milk. Under the figure was the Logo, 'demoniacally delicious'. The yogurts were in small glass containers, and the cheese in a small cheese pot. He picked up the crate, moving it into his apartment. There was a small folding card, and he opened it idly. 'Our milk is unique in the world, coming from a perfect source. Our yogurt is flavored with natural ingredients, and our cheese selection is from around the world. By selecting by name, you can have one or simply check variety and a different cheese can be delivered by the day or week. All are excellent with crackers, and a packet of them have been included.' The card went on to list the different yogurts, and cheeses, with a little teaser of which were best with what foods. Shrugging, he took out a glass, pouring a tumbler of the milk. He took half a dozen crackers, spreading the soft white cheese, and moved to the couch. He bit into the cheese, tasting a rush of cherry flavor. The name, Sakura, was named after that fruit. The milk cut the taste, and was exactly like the milk he'd had the night before. He found the quart empty, and had already opened a blueberry yogurt as he finished the last cracker. He had already pulled a loaf of bread out, spreading the cheese thick on it. He alternated with bite of the cheese sandwich, then yogurt. He found himself sitting there with four empty yogurt cups, an empty quart bottle, and with only crumbs of the cheese. He dug the last out, sucking the food from the knife as he finished the last. Wonderful. He picked up the card, filling it out. A quart had not been enough, he needed at least half a gallon! Yogurts, four was not enough, he needed at least eight. Cheese; he looked them over, selecting an Egyptian Sordo to try. He felt tired. High lactic acid from all of the dairy he had just stuffed down his throat in the last hour. He yawned, stretching. He placed the crate outside the door, and found himself in bed. He usually slept in the nude, but something swaddled him softly. He faded out. The Meet Market was rocking, and he found himself wandering through it looking for something. There was a man against the bar, and his mind reached out. He could feel so much vitality, and a thrumming sense of sexual energy. He found himself walking toward the man. The man looked up, and smiled. Jeremy knew that was odd, he knew the man wasn't gay. He'd heard him boasting about his prowess often enough. A hand, soft, feminine, reached out, and the man took the hand. But the point of view was that it was Jeremy's hand. The man drew them closer, his mouth locking on Jeremy's lips hungrily. They kissed, that kiss had everything but sex in it. Jeremy pulled himself back, and caught a look in the mirror behind the bar. The woman from his dream looked back, and her eyes met his, her lips grinning. Then she drew the man back into the embrace. He found himself walking, an arm around his waist. A sense of urgency made him push, shoving the man toward the concrete block enclosure that held the dumpsters. The man he was with complained until a hand drew down a zipper, clutching his member. Then Jeremy found himself on his knees, his mouth suckling desperately. His eyes went up, seeing the man leaning back, hands clutching Jeremy's head. He felt his teeth elongate, and then in the dream he bit down. The man spasmed in agony and Jeremy felt the part in his mouth come free, a rich red torrent of blood spurting out. It was sweeter than the milk, and he sucked greedily. The flow slowed, and he found himself rising, spitting out the part he had sliced free, hands catching the man's terrified face as he kissed the him. He sucked, and this made both the milk he had drunk, and the blood taste bland. It was not a liquid, it was an essence, and he sucked greedily. He felt the man's face spasm beneath his hands, and the tide of sweet liquor vanished. He pulled back, watching the husk of a man collapse at his feet. "So sweet." A voice whispered, and he spun around. The woman from his dream stood there, and she smiled, hands upon his shoulders. He felt himself pushed to his knees yet again. She lifted her skirt, pulling her lace panties aside. Her clitoris began to expand, growing in length until it was a cock in everything but name. Before he could protest, she slipped the member between his lips. He found himself sucking off yet another person, and only the gentle admonishment not to bite kept him from snapping his jaws down in sheer frustration. Then she spurted into his mouth, the creamy beverage sweeter than the milk he had dreamed he'd drunk last night. Her hands cupped him not forcibly but lovingly. The spurting ended, and she drew him to his feet. He could see down his body, and found his outfit matched hers. "Until tomorrow-" He snapped awake, turning to stare blearily at the clock. It was an hour before he usually awoke. There was an odd taste in his mouth, and he wanted to spit. His bladder clamored, and he went to the bathroom. He sat, feeling his urine run free. Then as it stopped found himself holding some toilet paper. Why was he holding that? He stood, confused by the mirror over the sink. He looked like he was wearing a wig. He reached behind him, and the overhead light flicked on. A woman that looked like his dream woman's Japanese sister, with wide doe-like eyes, and long auburn hair looked back. He shook his head, part of his mind finding a blue spaghetti strap running up to his shoulder. His eyes wandered down, widening as he saw the cerulean baby doll he was wearing. He looked up, meeting the now terrified woman's eyes. "It's all a dream," she told him. "Go to bed. It will be better tomorrow. You'll feel more comfortable with who you are then." He staggered out of bed an hour later. It was as if he had not slept all night. His ankles hurt as if he'd been standing on tiptoe all night. The crate was outside the door again. He looked at the kitchen table but the card he had filled out was gone. What did they do? break in and check his list? Shrugging he brought it in, setting the yogurts in the refrigerator as he sipped a glass of the milk. He started to dip into the cheese, but held himself back. Something told him he should wait on it until tonight. He popped a blueberry yogurt instead. But he brightened. If they delivered more than once a day, he could try two different selections tomorrow on his day off. He looked at the card that had come with this assortment. 'With the weekend coming on, why not be more adventurous. Try cheeses from different countries or continents,even mix and match them from one to the other. Try a South Korean Imsil mixed with a Brie de Meaux or for a unique twist Dutch Maasdam cheese with Philippine Kesong puti.' He'd never heard of these cheeses, but the taste of last night's Sakura had sold him on experimenting. He showered, getting dressed for work. He caught the bus, his ankles finally feeling more normal as he made the long ride to the office. He went in, sat at his desk, and began to work. The day seemed to drag. All he could think about was the rich milk he had drunk last night, the smooth yogurts, the sweet yet tart cheese. He'd never been much on drinking milk, but just two days of this had sold him on it as a steady diet. Sandy the officer supervisor stood behind Jeremy for a long moment. "Jeremy, your hair is a bit long." "Sorry, Ma'am, I'll get a haircut over the weekend." "No, I was just wondering." He flinched as she took a handful of the flowing hair, looking at it. "When did you get it dyed?" "Dyed?" He was puzzled. "I have never dyed my hair." She chuckled. "Then you must have gotten blind drunk with some goth girl last night." She patted him on the shoulder and laughed at his confused look. "The make up is just right for it." He watched her walk away, confused. He knew he needed a haircut, but that was a couple of weeks off. and dying his hair? Make up? He logged out of his computer, walking across the room to the bathrooms. He turned the corner, looked in the mirror and froze. It was still his face, but the eyes looked vaguely oriental, though he couldn't see any trace of make up. His hair was long enough to brush his collar and was a deep rich auburn that had never come from a bottle. He started to brush the hair back, and stared at his hand. He had always had blunt hands, almost like spades, but his fingers were longer and delicate looking. Now he noticed the polo shirt and slacks he wore felt... baggy, as if he had lost a lot of weight. He went back to work, wondering what was happening. The bus home yet again. He had never realized how much his life had become going to and coming from work, and working. He'd expected more from life. His ass was dragging when he reached his room. Now he opened the refrigerator, and the cheese beckoned, and he opened the pot, hands already cupping the cracker as he spread the heavy cheese. It was sweet, and salty, and he moaned in satisfaction, chewing as his hands spread more. The milk drained into him, and he hadn't even realized it was gone until he found himself licking the open end of the bottle like a kitten trying for that last drop. The yogurt containers were scattered all around him like dead soldiers, empty. Only the cheese remained, enough for maybe one taste. He spread what remained on a slice of bread, folding it, and stuffed it in his mouth. He stood, taking all of the glassware to the sink, and rinsed them out. The cheese pot he scrubbed clean. Again he felt the lassitude he had before, as if he'd run a marathon. He collapsed onto his bed, flicking on the TV. His weekends always started with a movie marathon of some kind, and he chose an anime series named Maburaho from his collection. As the story began, he felt his eyes sag closed, and then... She bit into the piece of Pita bread, the distinct taste of Kitfo lacing her tongue. She had never had the dish, raw ground beef marinated in a very spicy chili powder called mi-t.mi-t.a- and niter kibbeh, but somehow her palate did recognize it. She was alone at a table in a restaurant he had never been in. Above a door was a flowing script. Even as she recognized Arabic, she found himself reading it. The Spirit of the Nile. She went on eating. The arms of her suit didn't make any sense. She had a suit, a simple deep blue gabardine one which like the ubiquitous little black dress of a woman was usable for all occasions. But now she was wearing a tight vermilion suit with buttoned sleeves, and a poof of lace at her hands. Again she had little control of what was happening, but she could look down to see a creamy expanse of white silk and lace toward her lap, where it looked like she was wearing a flowing skirt rather than slacks. Her legs felt smooth, and there was the slight catch of silk or nylon stockings, and on her thighs, the draw of garters flowing with her movements. The food was excellent, and the coffee that followed bitter and strong as it should be. There was a movement, and the woman from his dream sat across from her. "Oh, you are turning out so well," she husked. A predatory grin on her lips. "Are you ready for the next step?" "The next step in what?" Jeremy asked. She gasped because it wasn't a man's voice, it was a soft mezzo-soprano. "In your becoming," she replied. "Come with me." She found herself standing, following her. Her feet felt strange, and she looked down at four inch stiletto heels and a tiny foot lifting forward, pushing the skirt ahead. They went into the ladies room, and the woman stood, pointing. "See only one of those you could be." She looked into the mirror. The face looked like Patricia Velasquez in her role as Anck Su Namun in the movie the Mummy, but dressed in a smart suit. The same narrow aquiline face, the same piercing hawk's eyes. The look was almost daring some man to capture and force her to submit. Her eyes moved to the side. "You... You're not in the mirror." "Of course not, little one." She turned, and she was still there, an impish smile on her face. "I have already become, so I have no need for such things. If I wish to look beautiful, all I need to do is wish it, or use some man's mind to create it." Her body and face changed, and the perfect twin of his own body stood there. "Such infantile fantasies you had when you saw her in the opening scenes. Wanting to smear the ink with your body. "Now there are some things I can tell you now, that I could not until you took this step. First, if someone sucks your nipples, you will give milk. If they drink it, they will become as well. But you are too young; they will drain you and kill you. Why is this happening?" she wailed. "We are always looking for those to become new sisters," the woman told him. "Humans are so stupid in what they imagine, and even at our most prolific, there have never been as many as they might have imagined." "As many what?" "Succubi," she replied. "You're a succubus?" "Yes, my pet, as you will be when the becoming is done." "But Succubi are mythological creatures. There are no such thing." She crossed her arms, toe tapping. "Humans say that so often, even though they are what created us." "No, Succubi are demons created by the Devil." "And who created the Devil?" "Why god did, though he had not anticipated that he would become evil." "Odd. You are what might be called a Christian. He is supposed to be all seeing, all knowing, and all powerful, correct?" Jeremy nodded. "Then explain how someone so pervasive could miss that his creation was evil. Or how an all powerful being could not merely wave his hand and correct the problem." Jeremy had no answer for that. The only time she had asked a Sunday school teacher that she had come away wishing she had merely been Catholic where a Nun would have boxed his ears. She admitted the lack. "The neo-pagans know what has caused this, so they at least have learned to cause less harm. All life in this world creates energy, a sea of it greater than all the oceans of the world. It is like water in that it can be fluid, or like clay in that it can be formed and made permanent in that form. Long ago humans believed in all sorts of gods, so all sorts of gods were formed. Even beings such as I were formed, for some fear their own body's desires, and feel it is something inflicted upon them. "Then your religions, Those that believed in one possessive god came to be, and they forced more and more into their ranks. By persuasion, by torture, by murder, by law, they became the dominant religions of the world. They also taught that every natural impulse was something caused by some demon with nothing better to do. In the paltry time those religions have existed more of us were made than you might imagine." "So we created you?" "Yes. Beings of sexuality and lust who feed on the lusts of the humans around us, over a period of days draining them to death. It is the only way we can feed, for such is what those medieval men believed. But in the last few centuries, men changed. Nocturnal emissions became merely a normal bodily reaction to sensual dreams, and therefor accepted. They stopped worrying as much about such things. Yet we could not return to the energy field. We were stuck in this state of being, with no hope of freedom from it except to die if a zealot found us and used the tools to kill us. "But we can no longer feed as readily, because it in those early Christians it was the guilt of those desires that whetted our appetites. Now we must find those with unwavering or unreasoning lust." Jeremy felt uncomfortable. She knew she had just had an excellent meal, but she wanted... something. The succubus sighed. "I am sorry, you feel the Hunger. If you do not feed soon it will grow unmanageable. But I must tell you some things anyway. First, do not let a human suckle your breasts. It will start their becoming, but since you have not yet become yourself, it will do so by draining you away to death. "Second, while you look to be a woman, you are not in the most important way. Until you are, you are weak and can be killed as easily as any human. So do not let a human see that part of you," she grinned, "unless you sense that they might be intrigued by all of you and enjoy that. "Last, you do not have that orifice yet, so there are only two ways you can feed. By taking a man here." She touched his lips. "Or here," touching his bottom. "But I don't want to take a man anywhere!" "You will when you feed, and you need to feed," she replied with a cruel grin. "It is more a part of you every moment, and when it comes time, you will feed, and feed well." She wrapped her arms around Jeremy, their twin faces mere inches apart. "For to not feed is to waste away. Now go, and good hunting." Suddenly Jeremy staggered, looking about wildly. The woman had disappeared as if she had never been. Somehow she made it back to his table, waving off the offer of more coffee or a dessert. In her stomach she could feel an urge to eat, but the thought of any kind of food or drink caused her stomach to roil. She paid, and left. The city was dark, and for the first time in her life, it felt dangerous. Of course when he was a man he had noticed it but shrugged it off. Unless a man is flashing enough wealth to attract them, most muggers left them alone. A couple, even if one was a man was in more danger; the predator knows he can threaten the weaker of the two. But a woman by herself, as he appeared right now, was the most luscious target. He shivered, looking around to get his bearings. His apartment was... that way five blocks. She walked purposefully, but that didn't help. First the tap of the heels as she walked was a signal to all predators, and if they were in sight, the rolling of her ass would been as attractive as blood in the water to them. There was a scratching, and a flare of light. Her head snapped around, taking in the man standing in the alley to her right. He lit his cigarette, then looked up, catching Jeremy's eye. There was no pity in that face; he would kill her or watch her die without reacting either way. The match died, and he was in darkness, but as Jeremy hurried just a little bit she could feel his eyes on him. He crossed the street in a frenzied terrified rush, turning to walk up the block to the next intersection. There was an alley ahead, and he sped up. A man stepped from the alley, blocking her progress. He was huge, Hispanic, and gave her a grin that would have looked better on a Great White. Jeremy stumbled to a halt, starting to back away slowly, but felt someone behind her. Before she could turn arms snapped around her like steel bands. She felt himself being lifted, and opened her mouth to scream, but something was shoved in her mouth. It was a rag like a gas station attendant would use, and she could taste the oil and gasoline on it. Struggling frantically, she was carried deeper into the alley, and saw a pair of dumpsters. The men passed the first, and Jeremy was dropped between them unceremoniously. She fell to her knees, feeling the debris rip at her knees, turning to look up at them in horror. The men were alike enough to be brothers, and that new part of her sensed they were. That they did this when they could, dragging a woman off to do what they wanted. If she was compliant, the women would live, but the brothers would rifle their purses, showing them the ID cards they would take. If the women reported it, one or the other would visit her one night, taking what they wanted one last time before assuring that she would never talk again. "You have a choice, Puta," the large one said. He unzipped his chinos, flipping himself out. "You take this into you." There was a snapping sound and a switchblade knife blossomed in the other hand. "Or I put this in you. No other choices." Jeremy stared at the the two objects. Even as she cringed in fear, that new part of her purred. It knew what it wanted, even if she wasn't willing to accept it. The man stepped forward, hand closing in her hair, and jerked Jeremy's face up even with the erection. "Well?" Jeremy licked her lips and the younger man chortled. "Hey, bro, just like you said. Put a bitch on her knees and she's hungry for it." Jeremy didn't notice that he was speaking in gutter Spanish, only that she could understand them. The larger man smiled cruelly. "Open wide bitch. And if you bite, I cut." Then he shoved forward. Jeremy opened her mouth to protest and the cock filled her mouth. It tasted rancid, as if the man knew what soap and water were, but had never had close contact with them. There was old sperm still behind the head, and it flaked off in her mouth as the man fucked her face. The younger man came around behind Jeremy, flipping up the skirt. Jeremy moaned trying to tell him to stop, but he felt his panties ripped away. "Son of a bitch. It's a fucking faggot!" the younger man snarled. "Doesn't matter," the older man said, his hands holding Jeremy's head as he kept slamming forward. "If it dresses like a bitch, it gets treated like a bitch. Besides, don't knock it if you haven't tried it." They both laughed. Jeremy desperately wished she could talk. She wanted to tell him no, to wear a rubber, let him go so he could by god help them find someone else, or at least use lubricant! She felt the padded tip probing, then slamming forward like a piston. Even as he screamed silently around what was in her mouth, her body seemed to open accepting; Hungering. As the man's balls hit him, that part of her becoming stronger seemed to carol with delight. They were trapped as surely as bugs in a spiderweb, only waiting to be drained. At this moment it was not about that growing hunger, it was a matter of style. His own body took control at that moment. Like a spider wrapping a paralyzed fly for later. her hips, her mouth and her hands worked their magic. Instead of two men brutally taking what they wanted, it became three bodies moving in synch for maximum enjoyment. The men noticed in only because it became smoother, but Jeremy wanted to laugh as they synched as she wanted. Their joint climax was approaching rapidly, and Jeremy grasped the joint before him, pulling her mouth back and away even as the other kept pummeling her from behind totally oblivious to anything else. "Hey puta..." The big guy slowed down, his eyes blank as Jeremy smiled. "I like the music, but let's just kick it up a notch, shall we?" Her hand went back, grasping the member behind her in the same way. The protest from that man was just as clipped, the look just as blank. Jeremy turned, still on her knees, both hands full. She pulled the one kneeling, and he sidled forward, eyes vacant, mouth slack. Jeremy pulled until he had taken the place of the rape victim. With infinite care Jeremy lifted a bit with the one hand, then shoved the man forward, his own brother now in his mouth. With a hand behind head and ass, she shoved, and the younger man began fellating his brother as if he had been doing it his whole life. "Aw, so sweet," Jeremy purred. She leaned up, catching the larger man by the throat. "Now it is time for you return the favor, while I introduce you into anal sex." "Madre de Dios," he whimpered. "Oh really, why does your kind always visit evil on others, but expect God to answer your prayer? Does god love you because you rape women?" Jeremy asked. "On your knees." Unwillingly the man collapsed downward, his brother's head following. Jeremy had the younger man roll over, then the older brother went down until he was sucking his brother. Jeremy stepped behind the man, kneeling. "Now should I use lube? Or my fist?" she asked. The man shook his head frantically. "Ah but we have no lube. No help for it." Jeremy lifted his skirt, tucking her erection in close. "Let me know if I am too rough. I will give it as much attention as you have given to others." Despite the threat in her words, Jeremy was gentle. Soon she was fully involved, feeling her thrusts translated into thrusts into the younger brother's mouth then into the elder. They were on simmer, and Jeremy was just glad it was almost over. Then the movements below her became more frantic. It was time, and she felt his hunger burn, become a ball of fire in her belly above her crotch "Goodbye, you two," she said, and sent that jolt of energy into the older man's prostate. He flinched, and Jeremy could feel his energy as he came in the younger man's mouth. The jolt went on, riding the sperm and suddenly the younger was also coming. As they did, Jeremy felt a rush of energy up through his cock. He mewled in pleasure, feeling the young man's heart beating faster and faster faltering then fading out. Then the older man's heart started to fail as well. Soon the only heart that beat was his own. He was drunk on the delicious energy. Jeremy sighed, opening his eyes sluggishly. He looked at the sprawled bodies. They weren't as drained as the one yesterday, or the one he now remembered fully from the night before that when her own personal guide to hell had shown up. "About time." Jeremy whipped around, staring at the succubus. "Didn't you mother ever tell you not to play with your food?" "Ha ha, very funny." Jeremy pulled out, and stared down at the men. They had been bigots, rapists, and maybe was even mean to kids and animals, but they didn't deserve this. "Oh yes, they did," the succubus replied as if she had read his mind. She waved a hand. "Do you honestly think you're the first one to become that hasn't considered what we do morally repugnant? We find those who feed upon their own kind, and we eliminate them. We do it in such a way that even their spirit which could reincarnate is devoured and in doing so, we live to go on with our lives." "How is this happening?" "Remember when we met? I fed you my milk, and began the process. You are becoming as I am. Every drop of the milk you drink influences and speeds up the changes. The yogurts convert the cells of your body in an ever increasing flood until in a few weeks time you will be one of us completely." "And the cheese?" "You are the epitome of desirable to some men, but each man is attracted to a different body type. Each cheese is from a native region of the planet, and each imbues you with the aspects considered sexually desirable for a woman of a region. Blending the cheeses, using say an oriental one and a European one, will make you able to shift until you have the natural beauty of a hybrid of their sort. "Shift." "Yes. Remember what you looked like that first night on your knees before that man." Unwillingly Jeremy looked at the mirror. He seemed to shrink, breasts shrinking, hair running from the sable black to auburn, eyes slanting. He stopped, looking like a Japanese schoolgirl. The suit had shifted with him, and he was now a more petite woman in the same clothes. "Part of what we had to do to continue living was adapt our sense of what is and is not prey. Have you ever heard the term 'a waste of skin'?" He nodded. "Well our friends here were a waste of skin. Their father should have gotten a vasectomy." Now, do you feel a little uncomfortable? Bra a little tight?" Jeremy had not noticed until she mentioned it. But the bra she was filling now felt as if it were overfilling. She winced, reaching up cupping them gently. She wasn't used to having breasts, and this was a hell of a time to find out there was no user's manual! "Come along, you're due for your first milking." The succubus caught him by the hand, and moved her hand in midair. The air in front on them in the alley shimmered, and she nonchalantly stepped out of sight. Jeremy stared as she was dragged along. The alley vanished, and she was in a stainless steel nightmare of a building. Tables ran for as far as she could see, and at each one a woman sat. Some were reading, or waiting patiently. As she watched one at the far end of the room began moaning as if she were making love. She leaned forward, and he saw a pair of hoses were attaches to cups over her breasts. She clung to them, whimpering, biting her lip. "The longer you have been one of us, the more milk you will give, naturally. That is why all of the older women go first. That is Hannah, she is 4500 years old. On this end, we have the new becoming. Come, you can share a table with Megan." The succubus led Jeremy to a table where a mousey little girl sat, nervous. "Megan is the most recent convert by Lissianna. About a week now, if I am not mistaken." "Michael," the girl tried to growl. Some women just look cute when they were mad. She was one of them. "Michael is what you were, Megan is what you are becoming," the Succubus replied. "Will you behave? Or shall I punish you?" "I'll be good," Megan answered frantically. This is Jennifer. She is only a few days into her becoming. Why don't you two talk as the others are cycled through?" Jeremy sat across from her. the Succubus walked down, talking with a few of the others, then all of them headed down toward the other end of the room. He noticed that she had gone at least 15 tables; almost halfway, before she gathered her assistance. "Hello, Michael." Jeremy stressed the name. "I'm Jeremy." She smiled and it was like looking into the dawn. "Glad to meet you." Her head cocked. "Nice look. Anck Su Namun from the Mummy?" "Yes. I don't know why, though." "Something about the cheese you select," Megan said. "Lissianna noticed I was avoiding Irish cheeses. When you eat a certain cheese you become what the locals want to fuck, if you catch my drift." She didn't but nodded anyway. "She found out my ancestors came from County Wicklow on the east coast of the island and had them deliver some St. Kevin's Brie from there," she shuddered. "How many times have you done what they do?" "Today was my second." Jeremy snorted. "Ended up being double teamed." "Hope you don't end up in a biker train party." That happened to Kendra last week from what I heard," she motioned. About four tables down, Kendra was deep in her book. She didn't even look up as another woman opened her blouse and settled the cups over her apple sized breasts. Her eyes closed as the machine began to hum, then she opened her eyes and went back to her reading. "A biker train party?" Jeremy asked. The Succubi hooking up the milking devices were only two tables away. "A biker gang is in the mood to have a party, especially when it comes to sex. So they go out and snatch some girl, the younger the better. Then each of them takes turns in whatever orifice the guys want. They call it pulling a train. They sometimes will fuck them to death." "Wait a minute, In California, right? Twenty guys found dead?" "Yeah." The succubi had reached their table. They were polite but firm, Megan and Jeremy turned, allowed their blouses to be opened, and bras removed. Jeremy could see the upper swell of what she still did not want to admit was her breast as it was fed into the device. The other cup was put on, then she was turned back toward the table. Megan had also been fitted, and had a resigned look on her face. "What's supposed to ha-" Like an electric milking machine the devices on her breasts began suck like a pair of mouths. She could feel the insides of the cup shapes squeezing and sliding toward the nipple, could hear a spurting sound as they did. What she had never realized was exactly how enjoyable it was for the woman when it happened. She flailed, and a hand caught her, Megan was looking at her with despair. "Every time we're milked we become more like them," she moaned. "The more they milk you, the more you produce. Hannah gives almost a gallon every day. Megan was sighing, leaning into the table, rubbing the cups against it. "Jeremy, I'm sorry. I, oh." She stood, leaning forward, and her lips pressed desperately on hers. She sighed, mouth opening and their tongues dueled as the mechanical mouths kept drawing milk. She felt Megan's hand on his neck, pulling her away. "Stand up," she demanded, and she found himself standing. Her hand reached down under the skirt, and Jeremy was pulled against the table. Megan groaned as she found she couldn't reach. She slid up on the table, gasping, undulating as the milking device kept up it's gently demand for more. Megan opened her mouth, and engulfed Jeremy. Now it was like there were three mouths, all of them demanding. Jeremy rested her hands on Megan's shoulders as she deep throated her. Then her index finger felt her still raw ass and she moaned as she came in her mouth. Like the milking machine she was ruthless, draining that reservoir as well. She was gasping, mouth meshed with Megan as the lubricious pumping went on and on. Suddenly the pressure was gone. She gasped, eyes opening in slits. Megan's pumps had stopped at the same time, her own eyes looking back at her. "Is, is that all?" she gasped. "Barely a half pint each." He looked up at his personal succubus. "You look tired, Jen, can you get yourself home?" "I don't even know where we are!" Jeremy whined. "Just think of home, reach out to alter reality, and step through. Like this," she replied. She reached out, a shimmering in the air suddenly there, and the two were alone. "This might be fun someday," Megan grumped. Come on, let's get Kendra." "Why?" Jeremy asked. "Don't you want to know what she did?" "Oh, you mean the train." Megan walked saucily over to Kendra, who was busy ignoring the world and buttoning her blouse. "Hello, Kendra, I'm Michael." "You are Megan," Kendra replied crossly, "just as she is Jennifer, and I am no longer Kenneth, but Kendra." "I am sorry, I did not mean to offend you." "You didn't," Kendra sighed. "Ever since that night I have been on edge. Expecting it every time I feed." "Hey, it can't be that bad every night." Jeremy leaned over and instinctively hugged the girl. "I ran into my first double tonight. I was scared!" Kendra chuckled. "When you end up with twenty of them trying to get into you at the same time, let me know." "I hope never in my life," Jeremy replied. "Michael suggested we spend some time together away from work as it were." He motioned toward his body. "I've never really been a girl, but we could call it a boy in dresses night out." The other women looked at each other, then at Jeremy. "You're sick and twisted," Kendra decided. "I think we'll be friends." Jeremy felt a flash of delight. "So, where do we go?" "Well my home is in Dublin, Kendra is, Paris?" "Yes. My father works for a multinational there," Kendra sighed. "I wonder if he misses me?" "And I live in Nevada," Jeremy said. "So where first?" "Nevada? How close to Vegas?" Megan pressed. "A block off the strip!" "Then why don't we go to Paris first," Kendra suggested. "It will be dawn there soon, and it is such a beautiful city." "Then Dublin," Megan said. "An ancient city compared to Las Vegas." "Agreed," Jeremy said. "Then the city where every sin is accepted." "Not tonight." Kendra rubbed her forehead. "I understand you are both trying to cheer me up, but I am not in the mood for frivolity. Besides, It is almost dawn in Paris, I need some sleep. Then I will let you sightsee." "So we get together when?" Jeremy asked. Kendra looked at the slim watch on her wrist. "Eight hours. That way we can go from Paris to Dublin to Las Vegas all in one night. But eat the proper cheeses. We want to fit in." "Proper cheese?" St Kevin's Bries for Ireland, and Anneau du Vic-Bilh for France." "I already have Bokmakiri cheese and Brie de Meaux delivered last night," Jeremy replied worried. "Last night I had Sordo and the night before Sakura." "So we have Egyptian, Japanese, South African which can be either Zulu or Afrikaaner." Kendra ticked them off on her fingers. "The Brie de Meaux is acceptable. But what will she be like when we reach Dublin?" "I don't know," Megan admitted. But there are Irish men attracted to all of them. Besides the reason for the cheese is so we know the languages." "I have no idea either," Jer said. "And why are you calling me 'she'?" "It's only his second night," Megan supplied. "Ah," Kendra sighed. "Jen, remember when you went to work the morning after your first feeding? Was there anything odd about it?" She considered. "Yes, the Office manager came over. I was looking like a girl, but she didn't notice that. She did notice my hair and eyes, thinking I was wearing make up." "As the older ones say, humans are so stupid. Every night you become, every time you feed, the further you come from being a man. Your body morphs slowly, so slowly that two weeks from now you will go to work as a woman and no one will notice that you used to be a man." Kendra took her hand, lifting her skirt, and sliding it up. Jer was disturbed to feel a penis, though shrunken to barely larger than a finger. "The last time I went to work as a man was four days ago. No one remembers Kenneth. They all remember Kendra. My landlord who has known me for five years only remembers Kendra." "Same with me," Megan commented glumly. "I've noticed over the last couple of days. Maybe a dozen people I know in my neighborhood remember me as Michael. None of them notice the way I look, beyond if I look thin or something like that." "Every morning when you wake you will look like the last form you took," Kendra said. "And no one will notice that fact." Her hand slid under Jeremy's skirt. "This will dwindle day by day until you are a woman in body and truth. When that is done, you will no longer be becoming, you will be Succubi." "Then?" Jeremy asked in horror. "You will live, possibly until the human race itself dies," Kendra replied. "You will feed on those men who use those about them, and in doing so will grow stronger. You will save hundreds of women over the centuries from pain and degradation. You will remove the blight of such men."Kendra leaned forward, kissing Jeremy on the lips gently. "And I will be there to see you do it." ***** Going home was anticlimactic. She merely thought of home, twisted reality, and was there. The milk yogurt and cheese was already there. Even knowing that it was changing him, she could not resist. Soon there was nothing but empty containers. She could feel herself changing even more. He staggered to the bathroom, flicking on the light. Her face still looked like Anck Su Namun, but as she looked it changed, becoming a black woman looking not unlike Beyonce Knowles. The stress drove her down and she went back to his bed. She was asleep the instant her head hit the pillow. She found herself standing in the darkness, looking around frantically. She didn't recognize the place, but she did recognize the woman stalking toward him. "Odd, you should not be this far along. You will be a fine woman, and a fine succubus." "I don't want to be a succubus, I don't want to be a woman." She pounded her fists on the woman's chest, but even she felt they were the petulant blows of a little girl. "I'm a man, I have a life!" "Do you?" She ignored his blows. "Let us look at this life you had, past tense." Suddenly Jeremy wanted to run, to cover her ears, to scream her outrage. But nothing came. "I do not have to look into your mind to see what you think you had. A life of quiet contemplation, of writing your stories, and interfering with those around you as little as possible. That is what you think you had. But think about it. "You contemplate, and by doing so you have cut yourself off from the human race. You do not look at relationships, or politics, or interaction, you look at the underlying cause, and therefore miss what is before your eyes. You write your stories, but where do they go? They sit on your computer, clumps of data no one ever sees. "Since you never interact, of course you do not interfere. No more than the fill dirt in a hole interferes. Your job reflects this. A trained chimpanzee could do it." She crossed her arms. "But you will not be able to sit back any more. You are to become. You will be a Succubus. You will cull the human herd. It is something you will be very good at." "I don't-" She caught her hand, waved her hand and pulled. They were outside a bar. Jeremy could see the sign, in both English and Tagalog. She felt her body changing, and looked down. The tasteful suit she had been wearing had formed into a flowery summer dress. Beside her the Succubus had also changed, looking like a female biker. "I will show you that this is what you will do well." She took his hand again, this time crushing just before pain. She walked forward, and with a yelp he followed. The bar was sprawling, and he caught a look of his new face in the mirror where they entered. She looked like a Filipino woman. The sign inside the door admonished the customer in English, Spanish, Tagalog and Japanese that the girls could easily be 'girl-boys' and to remember that. "An easy way to explain that maleness that remains," the Succubus told her, dragging her past the entry. She stopped well inside the door. "There is someone to feed upon. Just close your eyes and find them." She looked at Jeremy's skeptical expression. "Do it." Jeremy sighed, leaning her head back and closed her eyes. The entire room was a roil of lust. Almost a sm?rg?sbord, picking one person out of all of this would be like spotting the one color that was different on a paint wheel. Then she sniffed, and the thought of impossibility vanished. There was one lust that felt unnatural. She found her head turning back and forth like an aircraft radar array, and she was turning in place just a little every turn of her head until she was facing exactly toward that person. She opened her eyes. At the other end of the bar, a man was leaning onto the wood, leaning over to talk to one of the girls. From here it looked intense, but Jeremy could feel the flood of rage. The woman, no, the lady boy beside him was getting weary of the diatribe. "How do I separate them?" "Don't worry, I will clear her away." The Succubus let go of his hand, and strode forward. She reached the couple, turning the woman on her bar stool. The woman started to speak, then the life seemed to ooze out of her eyes. The Succubus pulled her to her feet, ignoring the man, then her mouth dipped, kissing the woman. The woman's hands came up, pulling the succubus closer. Jeremy began to walk forward, the way clearing as she did. The man was standing there mouth hanging open at the display before him. Jeremy moved into his sight, getting between him and the women in their clinch. "That whore!" he growled, the rant close to a shout. "Calm," Jeremy said softly, reaching out to touch his chest. "Anger not good for you." "As if you know what would be." "I see in your mind what you need," Jeremy demurred. "You have a secret lust for lady-boys," she took the man's hand running it up under her dress where her erection could be felt. "But you hate that others look and lust after the ones you desire." He was watching Jeremy, and his face had grown calmer as he gently fondled. "You want one just for you, only for you," Jeremy continued, moving closer, pressing from breast to stomach. "One to take you within her body, to give herself to you, only you, forever." "But all of you girls work here, that means I can't have what I want." His hand clenched, and Jeremy leaned back a bit at the pain. "I do not work here. I can be what you wish for the rest of your life." Jeremy gasped. The pain eased. "That's a big claim." "It is a promise. Talk to other girls, to those who come here. Ask them if they have ever seen me, They will say they have not. I am for you alone." "Hey, is this bitch telling the truth?" he snarled. The Succubus released her prey's lips, looking up. "I've been coming here for years and never seen her." The lady-boy looked at Jeremy. "No, I have never seen her before." She turned back around, and slipped back into the kiss. "Come, time to make your dream come true." Jeremy led the man through the building and out. "Why not take a room inside?" he balked. "I told you, I never there before, do not work. I work they expect you to pay, yes? We go, no pay." "My kinda woman!" He started pulling ahead, drawing Jeremy afterward. Part of the young changeling felt bad for the man. Everyone had dreams they could never have. This man was angry because he couldn't have it, and Jeremy wanted to let him live, but that new born sense of his dug deep. The man loved the women, but was so violently jealous that he would be verbally then physically abusive. He had been banned from half of the lady boy bars so far just from that. The hotel was upscale, and the concierge merely sighed as they walked in. The elevator shot up to the room, and Jeremy found herself ushered into the room. He grabbed her, and she felt him slam his lips against hers. Even here, when his dream had come true, the man was too forceful. Jeremy caught the hand that was pawing at her dress. "Come on, love. It is like a fine meal. You do not merely stuff it into your mouth, you eat slowly, and savor it." Jeremy took his hand, leading him toward the bed. It was different this time, in comparison to the others she had fed upon. It wasn't a dreamlike sequence like the first. She wasn't the bait in a trap as she had been with the pair. Now she was the predator cutting out her victim. He shook his head, he was thinking of himself as a female now. The man sat on the edge of the bed, and Jeremy curled up in his lap like a kitten. In this position, Jeremy was able to control his kiss, his hands. Her fingers plucked at the dress, and Jeremy caught his hand. "Let me," she stood, shrugging her shoulders, the dress falling in a pool around her feet. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her nipples were tight as she looked down at the man. She caught the edges of her panties, pulling the ties, and felt it fall away. She looked almost like a boy with tiny tits and such a small cock it looked like she would never have been a man. Her hands rested on his shoulders, looking down through the ebony sheet of her hair. He reached up holding her hips, and she took a step closer. "Show me your love," she husked. He looked up, then leaned forward, taking the tiny cock into his mouth. Jeremy hissed, head back. "Yes, you do this well," she sighed. Her hips moved, sawing the member back and forth in his mouth. "You please me, then I please you, yes?" He nodded as he continued. Jeremy hadn't felt this in a long time, and she felt a shiver run up her supple back. She gasped, cupping the man's face, then gave five delicately girly spurts into his mouth. She knelt, kissing him deeply. "You gentle lover, but not all time, yes? Be gentle with me." Her hand caught his belt, unbuckling it, then peeling the pants out of the way. Her hands dipped in, drawing him into the air. Gently she kissed the head, hand holding him upright, then her lips parted and sank down on him. "Oh, god, that's wonderful," he gasped. Her mouth slid down until he bumped the back of her throat. She sucked up then down, then moved her hand fondling him. "You want I do this? Or love me like you mean it?" "Get up here he husked. She slid back up his body, straddling him with her legs wrapped around him. "Now, love me long time," she whispered, lifting up. His hand fumbled, and when she settled back down he slid smoothly into her. "Yes, so good," she whispered in his ear, her feet dropping to the bed, sliding her body up and down on him. "Stay in me forever, for rest of life." As much as she hated what she was becoming, Jeremy had to admit he was beginning to enjoy this part. The final hunt, taking his seed and soul. The more she understood what they were like, the more she understood that they deserved this. Yet it was better than some vigilante running through the streets shooting people. That was why she had bitten the first man in half, why she had humiliated and raped the older brother last night. Why she would show this one what he could have had and take it away at the same time. "Yes, go deep, hard, may me love it," she ordered. "Make me swear to touch no other man." He growled, rolling her over, pinning her hands to the bed as he began pounding into her harder. "Bitch." "No bitch, make you think. You ask other girls to be with you forever? No one else? Tell them you want them alone?" Her hips rolled, forcing him to maintain the pace. "If I not tell you I be the last ever woman best ever woman in your life, would you be here?" She pulled him down, holding his face above hers as he lept thrusting. "YOu could have had love instead." She kissed him, and the connection was there as it had been before. She could see his eyes widen in sudden fear, his hips trying to pull back as she connected on that deepest level. He fell forward, hands clawing at her as he felt his heart falter. He moaned, and began to shrivel, but she held on. Finally he gasped and fell still. He had been a large man, around 250 pounds. Not he was a shriveled mummy like thing. She rolled him aside, then reached down for his pants. There was almost a thousand dollars in crisp 20s and hundreds. She slipped into her dress, and put the money in her pocket. She stood, the little Filipino woman vanishing as a tall Nordic blond replaced her. Jeremy reached out, stepping through, and was back in his room. She took a shower, allowing the water to flow in runnels down her body. It was a sensuous feeling. She scrubbed her self, feeling the lassitude she had felt vanish. She was energized as if she'd slept a full eight hours. She stepped out drying herself. It had become normal to see her features change as she dried her hair. The hair shifting from long to short to medium, then to very long was a pain when trying to dry it. Her eyes went from a wide blue, to hazel, her skin from black, to oriental, to Caucasian. Her closet had lost most of the men's clothes, and those that remained were androgynous. They would have looked the same whether she had a woman's body or a man's. She chose a smart blouse and skirt, slipping the ensemble on. Shoes, purse, ready. She walked toward the door, then stopped herself. Now where in Paris? She reached out, then stepped through. It was perhaps an hour to sundown, and the city of lights spread around her. Never in her short life had she ever expected to visit here. "You made it!" She turned, and caught Megan as she flung herself at Jeremy. As much as 'Michael' wanted to remain, there was too much of the flighty little girl in her make up. "I said I would." Jeremy disentangled herself, motioning. "Where is Kendra?" "Feeding. As long as we don't have to feed, the night is ours; except for milking." "I still don't understand a lot of things," Jeremy admitted. "Why are we giving milk?" "Something about our structure as we become, and then be," Megan said. "It used to be that Succubi were regional phenomenon, only in Italy or Japan, say. But when men started to travel beyond their own homes, we went with them. But we didn't fit in, and it was easy to spot us, or at least recognize when we were there. If a Native American succubus was feeding on a European outpost, they began being wary of all native women. The same if a Japanese one fed on Portuguese men in Nagasaki back during the time when Japan had little or no contact. But around 400 years ago Lilith and the grand council got together, and came up with the milking." "Lilith?" Megan's eyes rounded. "You didn't know? Like wow, the original succubus starts you on the path and you don't even know her name? Why she is old, try Garden of Eden old." "She doesn't look a day over twenty-five," Jeremy replied jokingly. "Of course not. None of us look a day over 25 unless that is the kink the guy were feeding on is into. Let me tell you, ending up in an old woman's body because some guy has a geriatric bent can be surprising. And don't even get me started on pedophiles and asshole tranny chasers." "I had one of those a few hours ago," Jeremy admitted. "I was in Subic bay, some asshole who wanted love but expected a tranny to be more loving than a normal wom