Nathan Bentley was your average college graduate. or so he supposed. Stressed, working retail, strapped for cash. No time for his friends, no girlfriend, no real prospect of putting his degree in European history to use. Why had he even pursued that degree?
Well, he had some vague idea of being a college professor himself. Unfortunately his money had run out before he could move on to graduate school, and worse he really wasn't all that interested in teaching. The other option was to do popular history stuff, but the field was already crowded and he was so drained from his job that he hardly had time to unwind, let alone try to jumpstart a better career.
He looked fairly average too. His height -- 5'11" -- was his only outstanding feature; he had short brown hair, brown eyes, and the beginnings of pudge from eating cheap junk food.
He had just gotten home from the grocery store, setting down a couple of plastic bags with his supplies for the week. Soup, ramen, frozen vegetables, a chocolate bar, apples, and...
"What the hell?"
He picked up a fruit from the bowl he had dumped the apples in. It was definitely not an apple, but rather shaped like a peach. A very large, full peach, reflective gold in hue, striations of red and black across its surface, which seemed to move sinuously as he turned the fruit in his hand.
"Could it be...?" He'd heard of Lilith Fruits. He was inclined to dismiss them as some kind of elaborate hoax. People didn't just get superpowers from eating fruit; life wasn't that easy! But it was hard to argue with the alluring shimmer of the supernaturally-skinned peach in his hand.
He squeezed it a little, and found it yielded just enough to show that it was good to eat. He'd heard all kinds of stories about what these things could do to you... some of it was pretty out there, but hell if he didn't like his power he didn't have to use it, right?
He bit into the fruit, his eyes going wide as the most delicious juice he'd ever tasted squirted from it into his mouth. The flesh was just as good; like a blend of a peach's sweetness with the tartness of a cherry. The inside was also cherry red, though it had a peach's texture. Although one bite was said to be all when needed, he continued devouring it, not willing to waste such miraculous flavour.
Even so, he was not unaware of the heat pouring through his body. Primal, sexual heat, his heart starting to race as it pumped blood down to his twitching member. He wasn't really surprised at the aphrodisiac effect, given the name; it just made it taste all the better. He began fumbling with his fly one-handed as he finished the fruit.
He smacked his lips. Nice, plump, unblemished lips. He ran his tongue over them. Yes, definitely much fuller, and his canines were lengthening into sharp points. What was the fruit doing to him?
He licked the juice from his fingers, then with both hands free he quickly shucked off pants and underwear, letting his cock spring erect. He grasped it, shuddered, then as the heat intensified and his body began to tingle he decided he wanted to be in front of a mirror -- and ran in his socks to the bathroom as that was his only one, stripping off his shirt as he went.
By the time he got in front of it, his arms and hands had gotten slimmer, his fingers and nails longer, his chest hair faded. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, and had mixed feelings about exchanging manhood for womanhood.
I hope I'll be a busty babe, at least. Maybe then I can get work as a model or something. Being ogled by horny men sounded a lot better than "The customer is always right." In fact, thinking about men staring at him, worshipping him, falling on their knees and cumming at his feet... it was making him feel both very horny and very powerful. And a little... weird, since he'd never had fantasies like that before.
He gasped as the heat intensified, almost knocking him off his feet as his muscles seemed to melt in the waves of lust. His rock-hard dick demanded attention with angry, rhythmic jerks, but it was all he could do to brace himself on the sink and pant while he watched his body change.
He was definitely getting more feminine. His features were drawn together, with a narrow jaw and high, aristocratic cheeks; his 5 o'clock shadow was gone, his lower face now dominated by full lips, cherry-red and itching to pull into a coy smirk. His hair had darkened to jet black, matched by long, seductive lashes framing eyes that had turned a dangerous shade of orange.
And speaking of seductive -- His nipples had turned the same passionate shade of red as the fruit, little buds of flesh forming beneath them; his hips had flared a bit, and his waist and shoulders were tightening into female definition. All that was needed were the curves to fill out his figure, and he did not have to wait long, as his pudge melted away to his hips and ass, leaving behind a four-pack,
His temperature continued to climb: he felt like he was on fire -- though not in a bad way. Sweat was beading on him, and it felt like he was being purged of something weak and worthless. The hot liquid rolled along his smooth, supple flesh; stoking the fire rather than assuaging it, leaving red-tinted flesh glistening in its wake.
Then the heat exploded in his chest and loins.
"Da-daaaamn...!" Lines of liquid fire ran beneath his flesh, connecting his nipples with his balls and cock. His mediocre pre production ramped up, the scent of his own maleness filling his nostrils, the fluid hissing as it spurted against the sink and dripped on the floor. His cock felt like it was swelling -- even as those buds on his chest began to bloom. A surge of power ran up his spine, making him arch his back with a moan as the heat became definitely pleasurable, pulsing in time with his blood as his new breasts grew out -- inch, by inch, by inch.
"DAMN! Oh -- so --"
For a second a painful cramp ran through his body, and he doubled over, screaming. But the heat flared brighter, his limbs twisted, and suddenly he reared back, his voice rising to a exultant cry of pleasure. No longer needing the support, his hands flew to his breasts as they pushed out, soft yet taught, heavy yet easily supported by the muscles rippling across his back. His feet, his legs shifted, joints and muscles strengthening as he lifted onto the balls of his feet, bringing the sexy curves of thigh and calf into high relief, socks straining with the change.
"Fuuuuuuck! Yessss!"
Cracking his eyes open, he saw through long lashes that indeed he had the body of a supermodel: his hips and butt had grown to match his rack, which cradled in his elegant hands had to be at least E-cup, maybe F; his lashes and lips accentuating the desire and desirability of his features; his limbs long and shapely with the balance of fat and muscle to make him at once predatory and tempting. He groaned, equally pleasured and shocked, at the voluptuous creature he had become.
And yet! -- his cock showed no sign of diminishing, oh no; rather he had definitely grown there as well, to a good eight inches and two across; his head now also cherry-red beneath its glistening coat of natural lube. His balls, too, hung heavier in a scrotum smooth-skinned and hairless. Indeed, all of his hair was gone, except for his eyebrows, eyelashes, and the cascade that now fell from his scalp down to his lower back, leaving him only with skin, smooth and flawless... and bright crimson.
But not yet were the changes done, the fire raging within still seeking its ultimate release. Thinking to relieve the pressure, Nathan moved a hand to his cock to begin pumping, while his other kneaded his boob flesh and tweaked his nipple. Before his open eyes swam images of men and women worshipping him, reflected and multiplied in the mirror.
"Yessss," he hissed through his fangs. "Ohhhh yeesss... worsship me you... slaves...!" And to the red-lit fantasies of abjection the tension in his balls increased -- as did that along his shoulders, and tailbone.
"Nnnnggg... ahhhhhh...!" Flames of lust licked at his groin, from his gushing tip back behind his taut, overfull balls. His toes curled, long, sharp, red-lacquered nails piercing his overstretched socks into the linoleum tiles. His head, too, was pounding, the fire concentrated on two points of his scalp.
"Sssssoo... clooosssse..." His voice changed, becoming both higher and huskier, breathy with femaleness and passion. With the smoothing away of his Adam's apple the only thing left of his maleness -- was his maleness, and even that changed, its meaty mass gushing out tantalising pheromones through a head that had taken on a devilish point.
On some level, now -- through the hellish scarlet of the surging power and lust -- he knew what he was becoming. And he masturbated with feverish vehemence, mad for the final changes to claim him and seal him as --
Power.
Pleasure.
Control.
Sex.
All these things converged into a wordless scream of triumph, as the tension released in a cascade of fire and sexual fluids: her cunt spilling a flood of sizzling femcum on the floor as its lips split apart behind her ballsack; semen spraying from her cock, dousing sink and mirror in her load; flames racing across her body, searing away her socks and the last vestiges of humanity.
Fanning out into two mighty wings as they erupted from her shoulders, red membranes stretched between black fingers; and whipping out over her rump into a yard-long red tail tipped with another four inches of black spade. And from her forehead two horns pushed out, blackish red and shining, curving up several inches before bending back over her head, and up several inches more to sharp points.
From her flesh and her fluids the flames licked hungrily across the room. The walls melted into red cloth, heavy with perfume and decorated with black silhouettes cavorting in orgy. Black marble lined with red spread out from her hissing femcum, reflecting the triumphant form above it in its polished surface. Sink, toilet and shower all turned to gleaming porcelain with silver fittings. And the mirror, absorbing her fiery seed, glowed in even greater reflective sheen, framed by silver figures writhing in carnal ecstasy; the bank of flourescent lights above shifting into branched silver lamps of reddish fire.
She gazed into the mirror, ignoring the room for the moment, enraptured by her self. Her pupils were narrowed to slits, ears tapered to points. She lifted a hand to the regal sweep of her horns, ran the other across her supernaturally full rump. Her lips drew back, exposing her fangs in a wicked smile.
"Sssuccubusss."
She licked her lips, enjoying the feel of the word as it slipped across her tongue and between her pointed teeth.
"I'm a succubus."
She continued to run her hands over herself, cock and pussy clenching possessively at the thought of all those people, helpless to resist her. Incapable of anything but worshipping the sultry incarnation of sex that she had become. Feeding her with their essence, given in tribute to her beauty. Her power. Her majesty.
Oh yes, she needed to feed. But not on anything so crude as carnal seed. No, she knew as she licked her lips again, that it was carnality itself that she feasted on. The desire of others for her -- that was her meal ticket even as it was her tool for enacting her will over them.
But first, a name. "Nathan" was no appellation for a demon goddess. She needed something powerful -- and feminine. Appreciative as she was to keep her maleness, the transformation had still brought a shift in gender identity, one she was more than happy with.
"Nnnn...
"Nikea."
Yes. She liked it. Short, powerful, and with an appropriate meaning. All that time spent studying ancient cultures had finally paid off.
Now, with that done, she could...