v2 CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: (18+) In which pent-up release proves transformative in a manner more familiar than nightmarish.
Forty-five minutes later, in a grand old apartment building close to Yankee Stadium, a faded red door burst open. Two lovers tumbled into the dry, musty air of a dark hallway. Una had her legs wrapped around John Hayes' hips, her arms around his neck, and her lips busy devouring her lover's with hungry kisses. Her skirt had ridden up over her hips, and John's hands gripped her ass, holding her aloft. Enmeshed in each other, they stumbled towards the living room at the end of the corridor.
"Are you sure?" Una gasped. John's teeth brushed the tender skin of her nape. "Are you sure this is okay?"
"Yes, baby girl," he murmured into Una's ear, his warm breath tickling her. "My mom and sister won't be back until next Monday."
Una's head spun at the situation, at what he’d just called her. Holy shit, she thought. Sneaking into my boyfriend's house to fuck while his mom's gone? John's firm hands squeezed her buttocks, lifting and carrying her effortlessly. She tightened her grip around his neck, burying her face in the crisp black cotton of his shirt. Her nose filled with the familiar scent of John's cologne, mixed with sweat and sex and something deeper, darker. The smell made her mouth water and the muscles at her core throb with anticipation.
"Where—where do you want to—" she began, but he answered by dropping her onto the large sofa in the center of his mother's living room with surprising force.
Una let out a yelp of surprise, then a giggle. "I see how it's gonna be." She lay on the soft leather surface for a moment, enjoying the coolness of the material against her arms, before sitting upright. "How did you get to be such a ladies' man, John Hayes? It's most unexpected in a man of the cloth?" She reached behind her to undo the clasp at the neck of her dress. I want this off, I want my skin against his, I want his weight pressing me down, her thoughts raced.
"What can I say? I learned from watching movies." He grinned. "I can take credit for my natural charm, though." He reached out, helping her unzip the tight garment.
"You've always had too much of that," she purred, wriggling out of the blue dress and tossing it aside. She'd chosen a simple lingerie set, white lace with a bow on the waistband of her panties, just visible over the dark expanse of her black hose. Una watched as he stared at her body appreciatively, his eyes roving over the dusting of freckles on her cleavage, the slight rise of her mons above the white bow. She blushed—damn it all, he keeps making me feel like a teenager!—and reached out to pull at her boyfriend's collar, yanking him closer to her level. "Now you," she growled, "you need to lose some clothes."
He complied, shrugging out of his button-down shirt and kicking off his shoes. She watched him undress greedily. His broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist with muscular abs, which led down to lean hips and strong thighs. But for her, the star attraction coiled within his boxer briefs, a prominent bulge straining against the stretchy black fabric. Una felt her heart rate accelerate, her breath coming fast and shallow.
"Quite a change from the dream we had in the hotel, Una. No slinky black bodysuit, succubus style?" He grinned down at her. So unfair, she thought. How is he so casual and collected while I'm flustered?
"I thought we could both use a change from all the black and red," she replied. Her fingers traced the lines of his pectorals, then moved lower, brushing across the ridges of abdominal muscle. He shivered under her touch. With her other hand, Una reached up and pulled off her headband, ruffling her hair in relief. Amidst the ebony strands sweeping back from her brow, John saw the tips of two small horns peeking out.
"Even these are as cute as the rest of you. May I...?" he asked, reaching out and touching one of them gingerly. Una nodded, biting her lip. She felt a surge of sensation shoot through her body as his finger traced the tip of her horn, and she shuddered in response.
Keeping her gaze intent and focused on his face, Una spit into her hand and reached down, sliding it inside the waistband of his boxers. She found his cock, hard and hot, and gripped it firmly, stroking its full length in long, slow movements from base to tip. John's eyes rolled back in his head, and he groaned, thrusting his pelvis towards her.
"That's more like it," she said, squeezing the shaft harder. "I might look a little different, but I still like to make a big strong man moan for me." She pulled John's face down towards hers, kissing him deeply; their tongues danced together as she jerked him off with increasing intensity.
He responded by pulling her into a bear hug, his powerful arms wrapping around her slender waist. John pulled her closer, his hands roaming over her body, squeezing her through the thin lacy bra cups. Her nipples poked through the fabric, hardening to the point of aching.
Una gasped as his hands moved lower, slipping beneath her panties and cupping her round buttocks in a rough grip. The priest's calloused fingers dug into her soft flesh. John lifted her easily, as though she weighed nothing, and dropped her onto the couch. She let out a soft cry; the breath rushed from her lungs.
"Let's do this the gentlemanly way," John said. "Ladies first." He lowered himself to the floor, kneeling between her thighs. Una watched as he hooked his fingers around the waistband of her panties, slowly sliding them down her legs and bringing her tight hose with them until she had a ring of tight fabric below her knees, constricting her.
Una was already soaking wet, her labia puffy and glistening with arousal, her clit swollen and throbbing with need. John licked his lips, and she felt a shiver of anticipation run through the pit of her stomach. His eyes met hers, and she nodded, unable to speak, as he lowered his mouth onto her cunt. Then he took each of her wrists in his broad hands and pinned them against the couch, his thumbs pressing down against the insides of her forearms.
Una gasped, her eyes widening as John ate her out, his tongue exploring every fold and crevice of her vulva; his mouth pushed and swirled past the sensitive flesh of her inner lips until she was moaning without meaning to. He worked his way slowly up and down her slit, licking and sucking on her swollen clitoris. Her shoulders tensed and her back arched, pushing herself against his mouth. She could feel the pleasure growing within her core, the pressure building until she thought she might explode. She writhed under John's expert ministrations, grinding her pussy against his tongue, desperately seeking relief.
"John," she managed to gasp. "I want you in me, I don't want to come yet..." He glanced up, his mouth still enveloping her mound, and their eyes met. He nodded, then stood, his cock clearly outlined by the fabric of his underwear.
"You want this?" The question was rhetorical, but Una nodded eagerly. She sat up, her legs still trapped by her panties and hosiery, reaching out to help him remove his boxer briefs. She watched with eager fascination as his erect penis emerged, thick, hard, and dripping pre-cum. It was beautiful, perfect: uncircumcised and deep brown, the glans peeking out from beneath the foreskin.
"First," John continued. "I think you need to do some penance." Una's eyebrows shot up.
"You want me to say an Act of Contrition? Now?" She looked up at him with mock indignation.
His face was stern, with only the hint of a smile. "I can't hear your confession; we both know that's instant excommunication for someone you know carnally. But I can provide some badly needed discipline."
"You mean you want to spank my naughty little demon ass," Una purred, reaching for his cock and stroking it.
John slapped her hand away, lightly. "You've put me in a very precarious situation, succubus. You and your unholy wiles." He sighed theatrically. "Before all this, I was just an upstanding parish priest."
"So was I," she said, and rolled over onto her stomach. "But I can't deny that I've been a bad girl ever since... Father." She wiggled her butt at him, looking over her shoulder. Above the cleft of her ass, a small version of the tail he knew wagged impishly at him, just a few inches long. Cuter, just like everything else about her.
John's eyes focused, and he brought a large hand down on Una's ass, hard. She cried out, a mixture of pleasure and pain that made his cock twitch. His palm stung where he'd struck her, and he saw a red handprint blossom on her rosy skin. Her tail flexed and extended for a moment, and then relaxed.
"Can you handle that much?"
She looked back at him, eyes wide and watery, her breath ragged. "You're not supposed to start out that hard, Father Hayes. But... I've been pretty bad."
John brought his hand down again, a bit softer, on her left buttock. He heard a sharp intake of breath and felt her squirming underneath him.
"O my God," he heard her say, "I am heartily sorry for having offended thee—" He smacked her again, harder than before.
"—and I detest all my sins because of thy just punishments." Another slap on the same spot as before. Her skin was turning pink.
"But most of all because they offend thee, my God, —" A fourth smack, harder than the others. Her ass was red now, her tail twitching constantly.
"—who art all good and so deserving of all my love." A fifth, and then a sixth. She was crying now, the tears streaming down her face. His cock was throbbing with excitement, and he felt the urge to push inside her—but he held himself back, waiting. He wanted to hear her say it. There was something incredibly wrong and right about this at the same time. A release, a catharsis.
"I firmly resolve with the help of thy grace to sin no more, and to avoid the near occasion of sin." John brought his hand down for a seventh time, harder than any of the previous strokes. Her whole bottom was bright red, the marks of his fingers visible. Una's tail coiled at the base of her spine. She gasped, shuddering beneath him, and her voice trembled when she spoke again.
"Amen."
John leaned forward, running his hands over her reddened flesh, massaging the bruised flesh as he kissed her cheek, then her neck. His lips traced the curve of her spine until he reached the dimples of Venus on either side of her tailbone. He could feel her trembling as he touched her tail, and its slick surface felt hot beneath his palms.
She turned her face towards his, her eyes shining with tears. "Father," she whispered, "will you forgive me?"
He nodded solemnly. "Father Hayes can't absolve you of sin, but John can tell you personally, Una..." He reached out to stroke her hair and her cheek. "I'm proud of you. For everything you've done, for me and our friends... for being brave and true and strong, and for fighting for what's right. So I forgive you, even though you don't even need forgiveness."
She gave him a weak smile. "Thank you, John." Then she sniffed, her expression changing. "Now, will you please fuck me?"
"As you wish, Sister Belmont." He grabbed her hips and grinned as aligned his cock with her entrance. "I'll be gentle," he said, easing himself slowly into her tight passageway. She moaned as he entered her, her inner walls stretching to accommodate his girth.
"Oh, Jesus... John, be careful." She fought for breath. "This body, I think... I think it's very new in some ways."
John froze, his cock buried halfway inside of her. She was soaking wet, but also impossibly tight. "Are you sure you want to do this? I'm worried about hurting you."
She nodded emphatically. "Yes," she said, "I want this so, so bad." She looked back at him over her shoulder, her eyes pleading. "I need your cock inside me, please..."
He pushed into her gently, feeling the muscles of her cunt contract around him as he sank deeper, inch by inch, until he sheathed himself fully within Una's warm, slick depths. She whimpered as he bottomed out inside of her, and he paused, allowing her to adjust to the feeling of being filled by his thick shaft. Una's hips wiggled, and she let out a long, guttural sigh that turned into a moan. Her tail flicked back and forth rapidly, brushing against his stomach with every movement.
"Fuck," Her voice cracked halfway through the expletive. "You're so fucking big, holy shit. I can take it, though." Her body trembled with anticipation.
He withdrew almost completely, then thrust forward once more, burying himself to the hilt in the tight confines of Una's pussy. She screamed with pleasure, her arms flailing out in front of her, her hands grasping for purchase on the smooth fabric of the sofa cushions. He grabbed her tail, using it to keep her steady as he began pounding into her from behind, his hips slamming against her sore ass cheeks with every thrust. She cried out as he fucked her, grunting with the rough effort as he drove himself into her over and over, his pace increasing until he could hardly hold back.
Una's body tensed beneath his, her muscles tightening around him and milking his cock as he pumped. Incoherent cries burst from her throat, her voice rising in pitch as she approached her peak. Suddenly, her tail twitched and seemed to grow, extending towards him and wrapping itself around his shaft. He could feel its slickness rubbing against his skin, adding to the stimulation.
The succubus bucked against him wildly, throwing her head back and howling with pleasure. Her horns grew longer, their dark, ridged forms curving back over her hair. Around her spine, spreading in splotches of wine-dark skin, her complexion darkened to a deep crimson hue. Her feet, clad in tight black hose, elongated and changed shape. The hose ripped as Una's toes fused and hardened into sharp, cloven hooves, and downy fur spread past her ankles.
With a groan, John Hayes felt his own climax approaching. His balls tightened and his shaft spurted, filling Una with thick, sticky seed. As he emptied himself inside her, she cried out, her back arching as her body convulsed with pleasure. Her tail squeezed him, drawing more cum from his pulsing cock.
With a guttural cry, Una pulled herself off of him and turned around, still gripping his cock with her tail. She knelt before him as his spurting cock continued to spasm; she engulfed his pulsing member with her mouth. Her lips stretched around its thick girth as she sucked hungrily, swallowing every drop of his essence.
He fell back and stared down at her, paralyzed by the sight of her transformed figure, the demonic beauty of her face. Her eyes met his: yellow with lambent light, the pupils elongated like a goat's. The soft, innocent look that had surprised him at the cafe was gone, replaced by something otherworldly, elegant, and ferocious at once. She had the same features he'd kissed at the Haven: Una, the scarlet succubus.
She released his cock, letting its weight fall to his belly, and crawled up his body. Her hooves scraped his skin, and he felt the heat of her cunt hovering over his abdomen, her juices trickling over him. She pressed a kiss onto his mouth and he felt the warmth of her breath. Her lips tasted sweet, like honey, with a darker tang of musk and sweat, a flavor he knew must be his own seed.
"You're beautiful like this too," he said, gazing into her strange eyes. He reached up, touching the tip of one horn, running his fingers along its smooth length. She smiled, revealing sharp canines. He felt her tail brush across his cheek, caress his neck.
"Sorry," she said. "I didn't know... this would happen. I don't know what's going on." Her voice sounded different, more resonant than it had been minutes ago. "Maybe I should go." Suddenly, she looked vulnerable again, her face uncertain.
"No!" John grabbed her shoulders. "I meant it when I said you were beautiful. Stay."
"Really?" She bit her lip. "Because sometimes... I think you might want the old me back. Micki. Or the new me. Someone you can go on a date with, pretend we're a normal couple."
"No matter what you look like, Una, I still know you." John pulled the succubus close, embracing her in an uncompromising squeeze. "Remember what I told you at your final sermon? I see the same person I've admired for years."
She let him hold her for a long moment, before pulling back to stare him in the face. "You don't have to say that. I know you love me, and that I love you. This is all just so..." Una paused to run her hands over her breasts, fuller and rounder now, and the taut muscles of her abdomen. "I can't get used to anything."
"It doesn't matter," he insisted. "Your body changes, but your soul stays the same." He kissed her again, tasting the sweetness of her mouth.
Una settled onto the broad, familiar expanse of his chest, quieting her thoughts. After ten minutes, she heard the rhythmic sound of John's breathing, slow and steady beneath her as he drifted to sleep. The weight of his arm around her waist comforted her. She closed her eyes, letting herself relax.
Only fifteen more minutes passed before Una rose from the couch, carefully extricating herself from her lover's embrace. Una stood by the couch and watched John sleeping for a long moment. The sight filled her with a sense of peace, despite the turmoil in her body and mind.
She picked up her torn hose and discarded underwear, then wriggled into her dress. With her taller, toned frame and the added curves in her bust, it barely covered her hips and ass. She found her sandals under the sofa and looked ruefully between them and her hooves; useless, for now.
I should try changing back one more time, she thought. She'd tried immediately after sex, then again while lying in John's arms, with no luck. Una took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, willing her body to shrink, soften, become human again. She focused inward, concentrating on her desire to return to her earlier form, and felt a faint tingle at her extremities.
Una stared at her nails. They were rounder again, and colored burgundy instead of black. That's it? I don't get it. She balled up her fists, frustrated. I'm vibrating with energy from the hot, kinda dirty sex we just had. Why can't I change? She opened her fist and looked at her nails again. At least they hadn't reverted to sharp black points; that was something.
She looked over at John and this time felt a pang of regret. I'll call later, she thought. And explain everything. I'll... figure out how to stop messing up your life, my love. Una bent down and brushed his forehead with her lips. She could smell her own arousal on his face, but also his scent of soap and sweat that made her think of love, and of comfort.
Una slipped out into the building's hallway, closing the door as softly as she could. Her hooves clicked on the floor as she passed the elevators in favor of the staircase at the end of the hall. She looked down, then shook her head and walked up towards the roof, pulling out her phone as she did.
> More weird problems with latest change I told you about. You at home or work?
The response pinged at her by the time she reached the top floor of the building.
> Oh no! Come over right now, babe. Gotta leave for the office real soon… but I always have time for you.
A smile curved Una's lips, and for a moment she felt distracted from her troubles.
> Thanks ♥️ omw now
She pocketed her phone and looked around. The rooftop of John's mother's apartment building was small, and surrounded by an ornate railing, with only the occasional potted plant. At least there was nobody around. Una stripped off her dress and stuffed all her clothes into her bag, filling it to the brim. She cradled it in her arms as she stepped to the edge of a huge dirt-filled pot, then leaped onto the railing, balancing easily.
Below, Una saw the streets of the South Bronx, cars crawling along in traffic, people walking, living their lives. Beyond lay the thin divide of the Harlem River, with Manhattan on the far side. So many lives, and so normal, preoccupied with everyday cares and troubles.
Una thrust her arms out and let her great dark wings burst from her shoulders, their span nearly twice her height. She crouched down, preparing to leap, and her tail lashed the air in anticipation as she gathered strength in her limbs. Her hooves pushed off, and with a mighty beat of her wings, she launched herself from the railing.