Slut Note Parts 9-10
Slut Note: How To Use It XXXIV A-C
The owner of the Slut Note cannot be affected by a god of sex who is living in the world of the gods of sex.
Also, a god of sex who comes to the human world, with the objective to seduce the owner of the Slut Note with their own Slut Note, will not be able to do so by any means other than their own wiles.
Only a god of sex that has passed on their Slut Note to a human is able to manipulate and bimbofy the owner of the Slut Note.
Part 9: Dinnertime Diversions
As Assistant Chief of police Yumigachi Soun sat at the dinner table and listened to his daughter Seiya talk about her day, he realized to his chagrin that he had not actually been home except to shower and change clothes since the Perva case began. Hearing Seiya talk about getting ready for high school was unnerving, for it seemed like only yesterday since he’d been changing her diapers. In fact, she was starting to become a real woman, her figure having filled out significantly since the last time he’d seen her. He could swear that girls had not looked as mature as Seiya did when he was a boy. In fact, he could swear his wife was also looking bustier and younger than usual. She was thinner, for one thing, and must be using a new face cream as the lines around her face seemed fainter. Soun shrugged it off as too much time away from the family.
Meanwhile his son, Right, sat quietly with perfect table manners, somehow having grown up into a mature adult when Soun was not looking. Of course, Right had always been a reserved boy, but would always light up when his father discussed catching criminals.
To lure his son into talking, and because he really needed to brag to somebody, Yumigachi began talking about his day. “We got a major break in the Perva case today.”
“I wish you wouldn’t discuss such an awful person in front of the kids,” his wife Rumiko chided. “You know they’re old enough to understand just how atrocious what he’s doing is.”
Across the table, Right’s eyes narrowed subtly. It would be ever so easy to change his mother’s opinions about her son’s work. Right wanted to avoid changing his family if at all possible – his initial foray into that had ended with catastrophic results that only and the busty succubus sitting invisible in the corner now remembered – but that was a guideline, not a rule.
Yumigachi quieted his wife’s protests. “Then they’re old enough to need to be aware of it. Besides, I need to talk about it to get my head around it, and Right has sometimes helped me solve cases in the past.”
Fyuk chuckled again, a reoccurrence of the fit of guffaws that had ensued when she realized that the boy carrying her spare Slut Note was also the son of the director of the group searching for him! To punish the young man for holding out on her, she decided to tease him. Unable to be seen or heard by anybody but him, she positioned herself just behind Right’s father. Then she arched her back, her massive breasts growing even fuller by the motion, and made slow, sensual circles around her nipples.
Right felt his jeans tightening. He concentrated on narrowing his focus to just his father and not the tantalizingly erotic display beyond. “What kind of break, father?”
“As you no doubt saw on TV, we have confirmed that Perva is in Japan. But even better, the person in charge of the worldwide investigation has judged that, estimating from time of death, Perva is probably a student. There is a pattern to the times of people’s changes, about the time that someone in our time zone would be at school.”
Fyuk, smiling mischievously, sank underneath the tablecloth. She floated around the legs of the unsuspecting family – sex gods were only intangible when they wanted to be, and though they could not see her they could still feel her if she were not careful – and positioned herself before Right. Pleased to see from the size of his erection that her seductions were working, she began caressing the inside of his thighs and his crotch.
Right stiffened and tried very hard not to let the effects that Fyuk’s misbehavior was having on him show. “Um, how can he be sure it’s a student? It might also be a teacher or school administer. It could also be a banker – they keep hours quite close to students – or for that matter anybody with a work schedule that happens to line up like that, an eight hour swing shift that starts early and ends in mid-afternoon.”
Yumigachi nodded. “That’s a good point. We’ll have to see about getting work schedules from businesses as well.”
Right bit the inside of his lip as Fyuk went intangible. She slid her mouth and tongue through his Right’s napkin and pants, solidifying them just enough to produce a delightful phantom sensation as she sucked his penis.
“Another possibility,” Right said, a bead of sweat growing at the nape of his neck, “is a stay-at-home mother. They might keep fairly tight schedules and spend the bulk of the day interacting with their children, then retire to work as Perva while the father comes home to play with the child.”
His mother laughed. “Spoken like someone who has never had children. Right-kun, a mother does not get steady, segmented blocks of time, especially not with a newborn. If she takes her eyes off her child for a moment he winds up trying to electrocute himself at the wall socket or drown himself in the toilet, and the second the infant does go to sleep, so does she. And when a father comes how to a stay-at-home mother, he expects dinner and family time, not taking care of poopy diapers. No offense, darling.”
Yumigachi nodded absently. “That is a good point about the other work schedules, though. Thank you, Right.”
Right winced momentarily and stifled a cry as the impish succubus made him cum. The napkin in his lap covered the stain of jism in his crotch. Fyuk looked up at him from beneath the table, her large green eyes glowing as she winked and licked her lips with satisfaction. Striving not to appear suspicious, he said, “Glad to help, father. Well, I’m done,” he grabbed his plate and silverware and turned so that his back would be to the rest of the family before he even left the table.
“Already?” his mother inquired. “Don’t you want to stay here and visit with your father?”
Right waited until he was inside the kitchen, then leaned his body past the doorframe so his stain of shame was obscured. “I do, really, but I also really need to study for those college entrance exams.”
Yumigachi shooed him off with the hand holding his chopsticks. “Words to make any father proud. Good luck.”
Back upstairs, Right clicked the latch of his door closed. Fyuk floated through anyway. Right glared at her, his temper smoldering, while she smiled a wide, sharp-toothed smile of counterfeit innocence. In a fraction of a moment, he calculated all the approaches he could take to deal with the succubus, none of them satisfactory. He could not get mad at her, could not even scold her, because he knew it would do no good; he couldn’t yell without his family hearing, he couldn’t reproach her because it would only encourage the demon, and even if he could take her by surprise so physical violence would be effective, he needed her and her Slut Note too much to risk alienating her.
Instead, he feigned nonchalance. “If you feel the need to do that again, Fyuk, I’d appreciate it if you asked before dinner so I would not have to cut it short.”
She grinned wickedly. “It’s your own fault, Right. If you weren’t so good at pleasing me, it wouldn’t be so hard to resist you. Of course, I admit that I have helped a little bit in that regard, or did you think your ten inch erection or your preternatural control were just a normal part of growing up.”
Right suppressed a growl. Despite Fyuk’s promise to never use the notebook on him, there were clearly some changes that she had made. The problem was that she demanded amusement of the physical nature almost as much as the entertainment nature, and by her very nature as a succubus she was so irresistible when she put her mind to it, that it was hard to keep track of just which orgasms of his were natural and which were artificially induced. So far as he knew, though, she had not altered his mind at all except for those orgasms. At least, not yet.
But Fyuk’s seductions were taking up more and more of his time, and while it was not like he did not enjoy the diversion, they were a diversion. It was time to see if he could do something about it.
Fyuk kept right on smiling, unaware of the schemes brewing behind Right’s calculating eyes. “So, they’ve already narrowed it down to a student in this region. You may be in a lot of trouble, Right.”
“Not at all,” Right said with a smile, moving Fyuk’s attention even further away his own agenda. He removed his pants and put on some sweats, figuring he might as well be comfortable for the rest of the night. “I’ve been planning this all along. At first I wrote day and night, even at school, but that got too dodgy a prospect. Not only was there a chance someone else might see the notebook, or even worse, touch it and see you, but I also endangered my class ranking.”
“Seems like you don’t have your priorities straight if that is your biggest concern,” Fyuk said.
“I’m thinking long-term, Fyuk. I plan to remake the world. Once it’s molded to my specifications, I intend to have a high place within it. That requires diligence now. The reason more people never succeed is that they cannot forego immediate pleasure in the now for greater gains in the future.”
“Not like you,” Fyuk smiled. She floated toward him and slid her hand down the front of his sweatpants, thousands of years experience behind the motion to spring him right back to attention. “I’ve never seen a mortal with as much self-control as you, Right. I busted out every technique I knew down there and you still barely broke a sweat. I’ve driven men mad with lust with some of those moves. It’s practically inhuman”
Right exhibited such self-control now, gently easing her hand out of his pants. “Aren’t you curious what I plan to do about this turn of events?” Fyuk nodded, excited, as Right explained. “Well, after few months I started becoming more organized in how I used the Slut Note. By that time, I knew the authorities would be on the case, and there is nothing the police like better than a villain with a pattern. It makes them easier to catch. But by the same token,” he smiled wickedly, “it throws everything into confusion when they deviate from that pattern.
“It’s time to start using the Slut Note on a new level.
“The Slut Note’s rules say that ‘If the name of a partner is written within forty seconds, they will have sex with that person. If a partner is not specified, the person will simply become irresistibly horny until they orgasm. Following orgasm, the person will return to normal unless changes are made permanent. If changes to specific traits of sexuality (such as fetishes, attitudes, specific sexual acts, body or clothes alterations, length of alterations, etc.) is written within six minutes and forty seconds of writing the person’s name, it will happen.’ I have also experimented with the Slut Note and found that it is highly intuitive; it grasps my meaning even if I am not entirely specific. Therefore, I can write a person’s name, write ‘bimbofy’ – and, I have already discovered through experimentation, it will turn them into a big-breasted bimbo – and then add all sorts of details at my leisure so long as I do it within 400 seconds.”
Fyuk’s eyes twinkled in excitement. “What are you planning, Right?”
“I want it to be a surprise, Fyuk. Promise not to look?” She nodded, and went across the room to watch him write.
Right looked at his backlog list of convicted and social criminals and began writing names and descriptions.
And more…
The Slut Note: How To Use It XXXVI
There are male sex gods (incubi) and female sex gods (succubi). It is both permitted and encouraged for them to have sexual relations with humans, either through use of their Slut Notes or their own wiles. Sex gods can also have sex with each other in this same manner.
Part 10: Pattern Askew
By Japanese time, it was precisely midnight. In Italy, it was only four in the afternoon, and mafiosso Luigi “Il Gouger Dell’occhio” Guisseppi sat at a sidewalk café sipping an espresso as he waited patiently. The hitman was scheduled to end the life of a rival mob boss that lived across the street, and now he simply waited for the man to arrive at home before he put two bullets cleanly in his head.
In the meantime, Luigi amused himself by watching two buxom women prostituting themselves just up the block. One woman, with the swarthy olive complexion of a native and the shirtmeat of a Goodyear blimp, was actually dressed like a hooker, with a tight dress that showed off just enough of everything to emphasize what was not showing. The other was an Amazon, nearly nine feet tall and rippled with muscles, her wide chest bearing twin watermelons that jiggled despite the apparent lack of body fat anywhere else on her strapping body. Her pale skin and exceptionally long auburn hair also helped feminize her, as did the green bikini that served as the only garments covering her, and those just barely.
Luigi was wondering if he’d have time to go enjoy one or both of those beauties (that they would be accommodating he had no doubt, for they were clearly the work of Perva) without missing his hit. Before he could decide one way or the other, a strange fog fell over his thoughts. For a moment, Luigi feared that he had been drugged, and the sensation only seemed greater as he looked at his hands and saw them transform before him. The fingers grew longer and more slender, tipped with nails painted hot pink. His stripped blue suit hung loose as his build shrank to that of a woman, then tightened in certain areas depending upon secondary sexual characteristics. Overwhelmed by confusion and lightheaded, he giggled, and realized his voice was now as feminized as the rest of him.
Luigi caught a glimpse of himself in the metal tray of a waiter passing by, as shocked as all the other café-goers by the transformation in their midst. Damn, he thought as she examined her reflection, I do look fine. Her hair had grown long and curly, bright red to match his newly verdant eyes, and a splotch of freckles across his moon-face. They seemed even brighter with his new pale complexion, as did her luscious lips.
She glanced down as she noticed her clothes altering to match her new body, the neat suit changing to a classy olive evening dress, his watch becoming a flower corsage, his loafers (Italian, obviously) transforming into white heels, the gun inside the holster changing into a matching leather purse. The woman who now sat at the table gave the impression of a waif made into a beauty for some elegant ball.
Luanna stood, balancing precariously on her new heels, having never worn such footwear before. As she watched in shock, the classy effect began to morph into something more depraved. Her breasts expanded enormously to 68FFFs, spilling out of a dress that fought to keep up as it too altered to match its new conditions. Her chic heels became four-inch stilettos, growing up to the knee and covering calves that became stronger to support her new body. Her hips widened as her waist narrowed, and her hair became more voluminous, spilling out in curls. In moments, Luanna’s elegant waif at a cocktail party had become sordid whore at a coke party.
Finally, the mental changes occurred, as she forgot her life as a hitman and remembered her life as a slut. She giggled as she noticed that the waiter still stood before her, and wondered how big his dick was.
Across the street, she saw two equally gorgeous women who seemed equally determined to get dick. It occurred to her that three hot women would be even harder to resist than two, and walked over to join them, hips swinging widely as she sauntered across the street, moving expertly in her fuck-me boots like the whore she now was.
At one in the morning Japan time it was eleven in the morning in Boston at St. Mary’s School for the Perpetual Penance. A devoutly traditional Catholic school, it was run by nuns of the ruler-smacking variety, and the worst of these nuns was Sister Mary Agatha. Despite her name and her temperament, the sister was only a decade older than most of her senior year students. In a way, this made her even more strict, for fresh memories of abusive shenanigans by high schoolers only served to make her more determined to stifle their repetition in this next generation.
Among the male students, she was known as the rule-breaker. Firstly because beneath the habit and the robes lay a smoking hot body that even seminary vestments could not hide – lithe and athletic and with a bosom more bountiful than an autumn harvest – and every boy on campus would go to any lengths and break any rule to spy it. And secondly, because any attempt to do so meant a ruler aimed at the fingers, hard enough that one or the other would end up shattered.
Sister Mary Agatha sat at the front of the classroom, the students quietly absorbed in reading Church-approved literature (or at least pretending to), while she kept a wary eye for troublemakers.
Her eyes caught one of the girls, Elizabeth, who had altered her uniform so that it was a little too tight around the bust, the buttons straining and failing miserably to encase the pert young breasts the young vixen had developed last year. Sister Mary Agatha considered a rebuke, but then stifled it. It was not as if lots of the girls did not dress as provocatively as Elizabeth did, and reprimanding her would not change her behavior. In fact, the nun thought wistfully, if she were a little younger and more carefree, she would not mind wearing something other than these drab robes all the time. She had a better body than any of the young tarts in this school, and she felt an itch to show it off. The idea of having all these horny young men drooling over her sent a warm glow throughout her body and woke up regions that had been silent far too long. She surprised a smile at her wicked thoughts, but they kept coming, harder to resist or even consider resisting. These boys were always trying to catch a peak at her. It would serve them right to actually succeed, to see what a real woman looked like. They sure wouldn’t be distracted any longer by the mediocrity that girls like Elizabeth thought were adult breasts. Mary Agatha smiled condescendingly at the poor girl, who thought she could get these young men wrapped around her finger when a hot chick like Mary was here. Less surreptitiously than she had intended, her hand reached up to stroke her own large breasts, enjoying the naughty sensation, only to discover they were larger than usual. In fact, they must have doubled in size, for her robes were riding tightly against them.
Mary squealed in delight as she felt the amazing heft of her gargantuan breasts. Not only was there girl in campus hotter than her, but she was even sexier than most of those poor women Perva had transformed. If he was responsible for this, it occurred to her, she owed him a debt of thanks. She slipped open her robe, moaning deeply as her fingers played with tits that felt hardwired to her clitoris. It occurred to Mary that she was playing with herself in front of her whole class, but another wave of horniness overtook her before she could collect herself, changing the intent of her words. “Well, don’t just sit there, boys and girls. I expect all you boys to get up here and let me show you how a real woman does it. As for the girls, you’re to watch and learn how you can be a hot slut like me.” She winked wickedly. “Unless, of course, you want to join in.”
A few did. What the hell, it was Catholic school.
At 2 AM in Japan, it was 8 PM in Al Kuwayt, and Yusif Ali ben Gaba was about to strike a blow to American Imperialism. His loose-fitting robes hid a vest of simtech plastic explosives, the trigger gripped in his sweaty hand. A known terrorist, ben Gaba had learned recently that he was dying of cancer, and sought to go out with a literal bang, taking with him the hospital across the street that lodged the American troops who dominated his people in Iraq.
As he gathered his courage and crossed the street, however, a change overtook him, as he suddenly transformed into a gorgeous, buxom woman. Her long, shapely legs, round behind, tight abdomen, and 48EE breasts were all covered in balloons, the robes and plastic explosives from a moment ago nowhere to be seen.
As she jerked to a halt, perplexed, one of the balloons popped. The loud pop and the burst of cool air startled her and she gasped, then shivered in delight as a wave of pleasure coursed through her. Unfamiliar with the sudden fetish that instilled in her, it took three more balloon pops before she figured it out. Each miniature explosion sent a matching pop into the pleasure center of her brain, and the feel of latex against her skin was like the caress of a lover. Each time she punctured or squeezed a balloon with a micro-orgasmic angry outburst, a new one would magically inflate to take its place, which somehow also seemed overwhelmingly hot. It was so sexy that she did not even question how such an innocuous item as a balloon could be so arousing, let alone the far more relevant question of how she had become naked and female and covered in such gloriously pliable, warm, soft, bouncy alternative sex toys.
She popped, popped, popped, and fell to the ground as waves of pleasure surged over her. This, of course, resulted in even more popping, and her orgasmic scream began to draw a crowd to her secluded corner.
The locals, seeing a beautiful naked woman wrapped in nothing but inflated rubber and crying out in bliss, naturally picked up sharp rocks from the nearby road and started hurtling them at the shameless harlot. Some nicked her and made her cry out in pain, but most just kept popping balloons that kept magically re-inflating, sending her into even further fits of jubilation.
It was ten AM the following day in Japan, and Yumigachi Soun sat in stunned silence along with the rest of the force as the disembodied voice of O recounted each individual circumstance. “All told, there were 24 occurrences of Perva’s transformations, each once an hour on the hour. The new pattern is continuing today, with no sign of letting up.”
Assistant Chief Yumigachi sighed heavily. “Two days in a row, and both on weekdays. It might not be a student after all…”
“That is not the point,” O interrupted. “Perva might be a student, he might not be. But he is responding to my challenge with one of his own. He is telling us three things.
“The first is that he has heard my message and is responding to it. Not only is he corroborating that he is where we suspect him to be, but he is so confident in himself and his abilities that he feels secure enough to confirm it, knowing we are powerless to stop him.
“The second is related to this change in his pattern. He is indicating that he can change people into sluts at any time, that he is free to set their time of their bimbo-fication as he pleases.
“The third is the most troubling. This change in Perva’s pattern began at midnight, local time, the day after I announced my theory that Perva was a student. That presents three possibilities. Either Perva’s uncanny abilities extend to telepathy or some other supernatural means of gathering data, or there is a leak within the police force, or Perva is one of the people in this room.”
No one in the lecture hall dared speak as they considered the sudden implications that O had grasped so quickly. Not only could the NPA no longer trust the basic laws of reality, but Perva had made it so they could not even trust each other.
The Slut Note: How To Use It V a
A god of sex cannot be killed even if stabbed in the heart with a knife or shot in the head with a gun. However, there are ways to kill a sex god, which are not generally known even to them.
Part 10: Renegotiation
Right adjusted his desk, twisting in a screw while Fyuk watched in silent amusement. He pulled out a length of magnesium ribbon, gluing it carefully, and swore under his breath as he felt Fyuk’s supple breasts rubbing up against his back in the middle of his delicate operation.
The succubus was getting harder to tolerate as her infernal nature drove her to interfere more mischievously with his life than she already had. Her already insatiable sexuality was definitely causing her to use her Slut Note on him. He knew because he’d used his own on himself to make himself aware whenever his name was written in another Slut Note. Fyuk was not only breaking her promise not to interfere, but she was also endangering his plans. Besides basic things like increasing the length and girth of his penis and his stamina and virility, she’d been making other changes, too. Right had grown two inches taller in the last month, which fortunately he was still young enough to pass off as a growth spurt, and put on a fair degree of muscle, so that his slim endomorphic form rippled with muscle that was not immediately evident beneath clothing. Fortunately, Right usually wore his school uniform and preferred long-sleeve shirts, so he’d been able to mask this. But it was getting inconvenient.
Even worse, he’d discovered that Fyuk was not just changing him. The succubus’ tastes also fell to women, and his sister Seiya and his mother were also undergoing slow, subtle changes. If this kept up, someone was going to notice.
And worst of all, Fyuk had begun delighting in trying to find a chink in his armor. The other day, so distracted that Seiya had nearly touched the notebook, had almost been disastrous.
Something had to change, and Right was about to change it.
He checked his watch. If his plan worked, things would start happening in a little under a minute. If not, hopefully Fyuk would not catch on to his attempt, or at least would be amused by it and not punish him too severely. He needed her around, or at least the Slut Note she’d given him, but the succubus was definitely a two-edged sword, and there was good reason Japanese culture preferred the kind of blade that only had one side sharpened.
“What are you doing there, Right?” Fyuk asked, tickling his chin with her finger.
He gave a wry expression without turning, somehow certain she would see it anyway. “No. This is an insurance policy. I’ve been reading through the Slut Note. Whoever touches it can see you, right? Even if they aren’t the owners of the notebook? That could be a big problem.”
“That’s right,” she smiled, flapping bat-like wings that seemed more like an adornment than any functional body part, since they were concealed most of the time and she hovered just fine without them. “You can’t exactly pass me off as your new girlfriend.”
“Agreed.” He finished his adjustments, then delicately set the false bottom on the desk. “This is one of three steps I’ve taken to decrease the probability of that happening. There’s a false bottom on the desk, and on the base of that false bottom is a broken electrical circuit. If the bottom isn’t lifted off without disconnecting the circuit, basically, without pulling out one of the six plugs behind my desk,” he showed, “then when it lifts off the electricity ignites the magnesium ribbon and causes the book to burn, leaving no evidence. Even assuming anyone finds the false bottom and trips the magnesium, I just explain that it was my diary and I didn’t want anyone to read it. A small house fire beats the death penalty as far as I’m concerned, which is probably what Perva will get if they ever catch him.”
“About that,” Fyuk mentioned. “I get now that your dad is on the police force, so you can not only hack into his computer to learn about criminals but also to follow up on the Perva investigation. But why did you deliberately do something that will make O realize you have inside information. Isn’t that dangerous?”
“It might be,” Right shrugged, “if everyone there trusted each other. But police are suspicious by nature, and they’ll suspect one another. Even more, they’re suspect O and his people, who will in turn suspect the police. These mutual misgivings will hamper their investigation as they trip over one another.
“Right now O is the biggest danger to my plans. He’s been able to basically pinpoint me and make deductions no one else has. If I’m going to be free to continue my work, I need to make him a permanent bimbo slut with an IQ smaller than her admittedly large bra size. And to do that, to lure him out in my own way, I can’t just hide the Slut Note. I have to use it. That’s the second step.”
“What’s the third?” Fyuk asked, as Right’s watch beeped midnight precisely.
“You tell me, Fyuk,” Right smiled, his eyes narrowing as his smile widened.
Fyuk wondered what the young man meant, but then suddenly realized that it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, except for him. The sex goddess, a being who had known love only as eros since the dawn of time, was suddenly overwhelmed by true love for the youth before her.
The succubus exhaled in amazement as she realized that Right Yumigachi was the most amazing, handsome, brilliant, wonderful, perfect being in existence. She desired him with her whole being, but more than that, she desired to please him. Loyalty of such ferocity as the puerile demonness had never know permeated her every pore. She loved Right, with the whole of her being. She would die for him, kill for him, do anything she in her power to please him. She knew suddenly that she would go to her doom on his word if it would only let him know how intensely she desired and admired this godlike bastion of perfection.
“At a loss for words, Fyuk?” Right asked, and the vibrations of his voice sent quivers of bliss throughout her form. “I may have gone a little overboard, but I figured better too much than too little.
“As I said, Fyuk, I’ve been reading the Slut Note carefully. There are rules in there about what sex gods can do to each other and to humans, and a lot of rules about what humans with notebooks can do to each other, but almost nothing about what a human with a Slut Note can do to a sex god. And one of the common traits I’ve found by experimenting with the Slut Note is that, so long as it’s physically feasible, whatever isn’t explicitly prohibited is usually allowed. You are now in highly alpha-wave state, the same level brain waves experience during intense hypnosis or religious ecstasy, and that deluge you’re feeling is a combination of both those sensations. Tell me how that makes you feel.”
Fyuk’s eyes widened in surprise. “You changed me? You made me feel this way?” As soon as she said it, she knew the truth behind it and the rightness of it. Of course Right had changed her, and he had every right to. He was perfect, and so therefore anything he did to her was perfect. She smiled happily, red tears of gratitude streaming down her face as hugged him tightly. “Oh, thank you, Master Right, thank you!” Just saying the title left her moaning in bliss, a pleasure deeper and more profound than any orgasm in her thousands of years.
“I’m just glad to see it worked,” Right smiled. “Tell me how you feel about me, Fyuk?”
How she felt? He might as well have asked her to recite pi, or enumerate the stars. Still, her master <quiver> had given her a command, and she must heed it. “I love you, Master. Totally and unequivocally. My only purpose is in your happiness. If I brought a smile to your face I would die happy, and if I ever disappointed you I would just die.”
Right smiled, and Fyuk melted inside. “Now mentally return to your Succu-bitch nature, and tell me how you feel.”
Fyuk blinked, and suddenly all the lovey-dovey sensations disappeared, and she was left smoldering with rage and embarrassment. “You little shit! You mind-fucked me! When I get done with you, I’ll—”
“Succu-obey,” Right interrupted, and Fyuk trailed off in mid-sentence, horrified at the cruel (and completely untrue!) words she’d spoken to her master.
She dropped to her knees, kissing his feet in penance. “I’m so sorry, Master! I don’t know what came over me!”
“You will obey me?”
“Of course! Anything! You are my master!” she replied frantically. Had she failed to express how completely she worshipped her master? Fyuk castigated herself, and swore she would work even harder to please him. “Anything within my power is yours to command.”
“Very well. Fyuk, I order you to never again use the Slut Note on me, or on any of my family, without my express permission.”
She felt her heart sink into her stomach that she had disappointed her master. He was perfect, in every way. That a mere demonness such as herself would dare alter him, would dare even look at him directly, was practically blasphemous. “Never, Master! I promise! I swear it!”
“Very good,” said Right, and Fyuk’s heart soared. “I order that, even when you are in your normal state, you will remain completely loyal to me. You want me to succeed, and will obey any order I give. Any direct command by my will seem like an irresistibly good idea that you had on your own; you will neither want to resist or try to resist, or even comprehend that maybe you ought to. You will never again, out of malice, mischief or any other motivation, intentionally try to trip me up, or distract me, or counter my plans. You will never inform anyone of the changes I have made in you, directly or indirectly, and you will never try to reverse them,” he added, trying to prevent any loopholes.
“Of course! My life for you!” Fyuk cried.
“I also command that you will retain your normal personality,” said Right. After months with the succubus for company, he had gotten used to her, and he could easily see this kowtowing version quickly becoming more annoying than her mischievous self. He just needed to keep her on a tighter leash. “However, any command I give you in this state will carry over into your normal state and alter your mind and your behavior accordingly. Now, do you remember the triggers that I instilled in you?”
At his words, she immediately did, though she’d had no knowledge before. This new loyalty would remain absolute, as would any commands he gave her in this furiously devoted state. But at his command of “Succu-bitch,” she would otherwise return to her normal self until he again called out her new love for him with the word, “Succu-obey.” The moment her glorious master spoke that phrase, she would again be inundated with this euphoric love and obedience, and that knowledge helped stave off the dejection that she would spend even a moment in her useless succubus state unaware of Right’s magnificence.
“Excellent. Now, Fyuk, last of all, I want you to tell me truthfully if there is any command I have neglected to mention that might allow you to counter these changes, to resist my commands, or to get revenge on me.”
Fyuk thought frantically. “Master has overlooked one thing. If my horrible Succu-bitch self remembers that you changed her, even if she feels loyal to you, she might still hate you.”
“Good point. I order your normal self not to remember anything about your time in this state or even its existence, even though its commands will still control you. Anything else.”
Fyuk nodded. “She may still subconsciously resent you. If you make her love you like I do she could never dream of doing you any harm.”
Right said, “That negates the point of keeping your normal self around. But I have an idea. In this state, you are loyal to me because you love me, yes?”
“Completely! With everything I am!”
“In your natural state, I command that you will love me because you are loyal to me.”
Within the demonness’ subconscious, mental paths rerouted themselves via power from the Slut Note as effortlessly as other women’s breasts changed. “To hear is to obey, Master!”
“Excellent. Now, the last command for today, Fyuk.” She listened with rapt attention, sad that her love would shortly disappear and determined to prove it as intensely as she could in its remaining time. “From now on, my own pleasure is more important to you than your own. You gain pleasure by giving me pleasure, understand?”
Of all Right’s commands, this was the hardest for her to accept. By the nature of a succubus, she took sex. She seduced, she raped, she ensourced, she ensnared, but any pleasure she gave was secondary to her own. When she used the Slut Note to make mortals orgasm, it was to extend her own life. When she mated with a human it was to suck all the pleasure they could give. When she fucked an incubus (or a succubus if she felt like it), it was a mutual rape, both parties taking whatever pleasure they could from the other. Giving willingly and with love, for the sake of love, was foreign to her nature. It took almost a full second for the power of the Slut Note, still forcing her into this alpha-wave state, to enforce his will. “I understand completely.”
Right nodded. “Very good, Succu-bitch.”
Fyuk blinked, confused. “Sorry, Right. Must have drifted off there for a second. What were you saying about a third step to protect yourself?”
“I plan to track down O and make him a slut, and you are going to help me,” said Right. Fyuk nodded at his command, even before she realized she was doing it. “But first, you are going to pay me back for dinner the other night.”
“Oh, really?” she said, bemused.
“The other night you were trying to pleasure me out of mischief. Of all the ways we’ve had sex, that was the first blowjob you gave me.”
“You’ve never had trouble rising to the occasion before,” she smiled, unconsciously tapping the bag that held her notebook. “And a succubi like me isn’t about to suck off a mortal male like some common slut when she can enjoy a good fucking.”
Right intoned, “Now I command you to pleasure me with your mouth, and realize how much you enjoy it.”
Fyuk almost scoffed, but realized that she was down on her knees before the young man. What the hell, she rationalized. Give the kid a thrill.
She unzipped his pants and slid them down past his knees. She brought her lips before his penis, blowing lightly on the tip and enjoying how it jerked up at the sensation. Making an O with her mouth, she swallowed the engorged member, taking all ten inches deep into the back of a throat that was never designed to eat and therefore never had a gag reflex.
As Fyuk’s head bobbed up and down, she realized that this was actually pretty enjoyable. There was a calming rhythm to ministrations, while at the same time it was surprisingly arousing. A peculiar sensation of pleasure filled her, not from any specific nerve cluster but an all-infusing state of paradoxical serenity and stimulation. Fyuk felt like she could do this all day; she wondered why she had spent so man eons avoiding it unless she had to. Right was correct, she really did enjoy this.
In fact, now that she thought about it, Right was correct about a lot of things. He was really smart, besides being entertaining and a good lay. She realized how much she was looking forward to helping him with his quest, and the thought of assisting him like a loyal and devoted confidant only filled her with more peace and pleasure.
She brought Right to cum quickly, but at his command she swallowed every drop of his seed and felt herself orgasm like never before at the action. She’d given blow jobs before, of course (what kind of succubus would she be otherwise) but had never had so intense a reaction. It must be Right, she realized, and found yet one more reason to stay by his side. He did not command her to stop, and she enjoyed this so much that she opted to keep going. It would be a little while before he again became erect, but she found the same blissful peace remained even when he was flaccid. Which, as she continued her efforts, was not very long at all.
Right lay back in his chair, enjoying Fyuk’s sucking more than he would ever have admitted to her before today. Until now, even blowjobs, one of the most blatantly submissive sex acts, would have been an act of power to the succubus, controlling a man entirely through her mouth. Now, however, the situation was turned, and Right was the one in control.
His own Slut Note, and his own obedient succubus. O did not have a chance.