Her hands were omnipresent. If I hadn’t been staring directly into her eyes, I could’ve been convinced that nothing in the world existed but her fingers, some gently touching my thigh, squeezing intermittently, some carefully following the soft curve of my horn. Both were setting my skin on fire. Where her nails dragged over my skin she left white hot lines. Whenever she squeezed I gasped. I was barely aware of myself anymore, but for a brief moment I caught a flash of how she saw me, eyes half-closed and lips slightly parted in a perfect picture of lustful abandon. 

 

I felt her breath on skin, and I couldn’t stop myself licking my lips. She spoke ever so softly as her fingertips were close, so close up my inner thigh, and I was intimately aware of my complete lack of clothing. “Relax, darling,” she whispered, her lips grazing mine as she spoke. “I want you to see this.” Then she leaned back and I almost whimpered. I don’t know what titanic power kept me from needily stretching out my arms to pull her back to me, but I just about managed, instead panting at her through a thick, pink haze. 

 

And then I saw it again, another flash of how I looked to her, my already red skin now flush dark. There was nothing but need in my eyes. I was practically drooling. My wings and tail shuddered slightly with every breath, and I was barely able to hold on to the covers I’d wrapped around me. With my legs parted and only minimal cloth covering my chest, the resulting image was far more erotic than if I’d simply been naked. It was the most arousing thing I’d ever seen, the trembling, aroused mess of a succubus sitting on the edge of the bed overtaken with lust, brain completely shut down.

 

I made a noise as the image flashed in my head, and then I saw things from my own perspective again. She sat on her knees, hands in her lap, in front of me, and she smiled cheekily. “And I’m just getting started, sweetheart,” she said, and I realized she was showing me her thoughts, her fantasies. I realized it for all of one whole second before her imagination hit me. I saw myself as she saw me, writhing on the bed with her lips on my neck. I squealed and squeezed my hands between my legs. In her fantasy, her hand was on my stomach and was drawing soft circles spiraling outwards until she grazed the line going down from my hip. I felt what she imagined my body felt like and it was heavenly. Hellishly enticing. I barely resisted feeling what my body actually felt like, but I was too scared to move, afraid I might spontaneously combust if I tried to move too much. 

 

I was so taken by the fantasy that I didn’t realize that the covers had slid off of me and I couldn’t make myself pick them up again. She stopped imagining me and now I saw myself through her eyes for a flash again. I seemed so small and vulnerable, shaking and looking up at her with pleading eyes. I didn’t know if I could take this, could take more of this, as I needed her and needed myself through her eyes. It was so much. I shuddered again and my tail flicking against my naked skin sent a jolt of electricity so powerful through my lower abdomen I cried out in something approaching ecstasy. 

 

And then I sat on the edge of the bed again, saw her, and she was getting closer again. I was almost ready to beg. I didn’t know for what; I’d been reduced to a whimpering mess and I didn’t know what or how to feel about it and she was getting closer and then… she wrapped her arms around me. Not with a sense of need or desire, but softly and kindly. She gently pulled me into her and I rested my forehead on her shoulder and tears came, hot and heavy, and I didn’t understand why. I tried to say something, apologize, maybe. She wouldn’t let me.

 

“You’re fine, darling. You’re overwhelmed. It happens to all of us,” she said, cooing softly as she stroked my hair. I noticed that she was expressly avoiding touching my sensitive horns, and was making minimal skin contact in general. Slowly, as my sobbing subsided, I began to relax in her arms and she sat next to me on the bed, and I leaned against her, trying to catch my breath. At least I wasn’t as ridiculously horny anymore, not right away at least. 

 

“What happened?” I stammered, whispering. She idly scratched the back of my neck and I just about avoided purring. 

 

“You… don’t really have control over how sensitive your body is, yet.”

 

“Yet?” I looked up at her in confusion and was immediately aware of how close she was, how close her lips to mine, how easy it would be to reach up and kiss her. She clearly ‘heard’ that and blushed and looked straight ahead, then nodded.

 

“In time you’ll be able to control yourself a lot more, dear. I’d hoped that, by focusing on the projected desires first… that you wouldn’t be as overwhelmed.” Then, she did something completely unforgivable. She kissed me softly on the top of my head, right between my horns, and it made me cry again. She was so damn caring and it was making me feel things I didn’t know how to navigate. Today had been the first day we’d exchanged more than five words! And now this simple act of gentle kindness had stripped me of what barriers I had left, being the first person to touch me for longer than a handshake in years. There was no way for me to be angry with this woman, not now. “Are you okay?”

 

I nodded. “It was just… too much. Too fast.”

 

She softly squeezed me in a hug again, and I squeaked, which made her laugh, which, in turn, made me smile. “I know, darling. I hope I didn’t upset you.”

 

Shaking my head, I bit my lip and found myself having to squeeze my legs closed just a little bit, thinking back to what had just happened which, in retrospect, hadn’t been all that much. “I definitely don’t… not want… this. That. More.”

 

I could practically hear that smile, and there was another kiss on top of her head. “There will be more time in the future, darling. You’ve got all the time in the world, especially now.”

 

I raised my head to look at her again, at her features that managed to bounce so wildly between playfully stern and adoringly soft. “Especially now? What do you mean?”

 

“Oh, right, I should probably have told you. You’re immortal now. Ta-dah!” She did a one-handed jazz-hand. It wasn’t very good, but it got the point across. That is to say that my jaw dropped and I stared at her like I’d just lost my last remaining shred of sanity. She giggled again, those soft ascending four notes that made her so endearing. “You can still get hurt, of course, but old age should pass you by. You should be a lot sturdier now, too. But don’t get sick. You can still just get, like, the flu. Don’t ask me why.”

 

“Why?” 

 

“Dunno.”

 

She stroked my hair again. “How are you feeling?” She was genuinely curious, genuinely concerned for my well-being and again it was such a strange sensation, to have someone just, well, care. It was the first time since I’d lost my parents that I felt safe with someone. The feeling of not fitting, the thing I’d been trying to escape for years was gone, as long as her arm was around me. 

 

“I’m… still overwhelmed. By everything,” I said, and bit my lip, trying to think about everything without turning myself on again. “But I think… No, I know: I’m grateful.”

 

She took a deep breath and then sighed. “I’m very glad to hear that, dear.” She paused for a moment. “I… I’ve seen your library card. But I like to think I’ve been quite deliberate about not using that name.”

 

I squeaked a little thank you. My name, the old one, suddenly didn’t fit anymore. The space in my head where it was supposed to go now felt sore and painful, like a slowly healing scar that I didn’t dare touch. She kissed the top of my head again and I almost mewled. Just one day ago I would’ve balked at the idea of mewling. I would’ve oinked at the thought of squeaking. But she’d given me a space to be small and apparently I’d needed it, because I took it with gratitude. 

 

“What’s your name, darling?” she asked. I briefly considered saying something glib but then realized that I didn’t know what my name was supposed to be. This new form definitely didn’t fit the old one even if I’d wanted to go back to it, which I decidedly didn’t. 

 

“I need to think on it, Madeline.”

 

She sighed again. “I’ll be honest with you dear,” she said, and she turned to me, her slender fingers lifting my chin up so she could look me in the eye. I whimpered softly. “I really do enjoy the way you say my name.” She was so close to me I could almost taste her again, and I couldn’t stop looking at her lips, even when she noticed and smirked playfully at my unabashed stare. When she spoke again, it was a soft whisper. “You can if you want to, darling.”

 

That was all I needed to carefully, tentatively move forward and press my lips to hers. The kiss was softer and less needy than the first one had been, but no less passionate because of it. Her lips seemed to fit perfectly on mine, and she ever so gently held me by the waist as she pulled me close. I felt her against me and I was again aware of just how naked I was. She gently ran her fingers up and down my back, until suddenly she touched the base of my tail and I made a noise in between a moan and a squeak against her lips. She pulled back to laugh softly, but didn’t stop her fingers running down the length of my tail, which sent me whimpering again.

 

“You are far more sensitive than I ever was, darling,” she smiled, but her expression became a bit more serious after that. “We don’t have to do anything, I’m not going to do anything you’re not ready for,” she said. 

 

I wanted to try something, and now was the perfect time. As her fingers, tantalizingly slowly, reached the tip of my tail, I gently spun it around her wrist. It was strange to move it like a new limb, and it was a little clunky, but I got the job done without feeling like I was constricting or hurting her. She looked at it with a bit of shock, and then back at me. I managed to smile playfully as I pulled her hand up, all the way up to my head, until it was resting on my horn again.

 

“I want to take this very slow,” I said breathlessly. Her thumb softly followed the smooth curve of the horn and I barely avoided making soft noises as I moved closer to her again, “but I do want this.” I moved in to kiss her again, but right before my lips touched hers she squeezed and I moaned, a low, needful sound, and she smiled into the kiss. How dare she make me feel this good. I swore to myself as her tongue ever so tentatively brushed against mine and the combination of senses slowly began to fill every corner of my perception, that I would make her pay for this. Whatever she did to me, I would do to her a hundred times over, and I could already see it play out in my head. She pushed her cheek against mine and whispered in my ear.

 

“I look forward to it, dear.”