She admired her reflection in the mirror in Reka's chambers. Her vessel was beautiful, for a mortal.
This female of the race of man, this "Reka" was fair of face and of form, with clean lines, well-proportioned limbs, heavy breasts, and hips that flared out invitingly from a narrow waist. It was a guise she would not be ashamed to wear. It was not surprising this vessel already had a mate, if that was who "Brad Regis" really was. She had absorbed enough of his seed to tell that Reka held a special place in his heart, but nothing more.
Well, she supposed that she was Reka now. Her old name, her true name, was lost in the void, one of the first things to go on that cosmic banishment she suffered at the hands of the Hero.
Maybe when I take this world, I'll find a way to go back and get revenge, she thought viciously. But there would be time for that later, more than enough.
If she was Reka, then it behooved her to get the measure of the woman whose life she inherited.
Reka's chambers were sparse and tidy, with books and papers arranged in neat stacks. From the little information she was able to gain when she claimed this body, she understood Reka was some manner of scholar, an adept, or "grad student" as it was called here, and she worked in an academy, called a "university" or "college" by most.
There were numerous pill bottles strewn about and she didn't know why. Was she some manner of apprentice apothecary? Had she been experimenting and poisoned herself? Or had the pills been tampered with? Accident or malice, she couldn't be sure. If Reka had enemies they would have to be dealt with. Perhaps Brad could help with this once he was properly hers.
Fresh from her transformation, this body would not require rest for some time.
She sighed. Lesser succubus...how the mighty have fallen.
Once, when she was the great Demon Queen of the Twelve Realms, Scourge of the West, and many more titles besides, she was a proper S-class demon, an army unto herself, all but invincible in battle.
Now she was a D-class lesser succubus, barely even magical, stronger than the average man, yes, but she had not encountered this world's warriors, and had no plan to for some time, perhaps never.
Perhaps this world, bereft of magic, could be subjugated by subtlety alone? That was a delicious idea. Where naked force had failed her, the hidden hand might yet bring forth fruit. But she could not hide herself without knowledge. Just what kind of place was this? What did they study? How was it used?
So she poured over Reka's papers. Much of it was obscure to her, but she recognized alchemical symbols and formulae, not too dissimilar from the magic circles she was familiar with. There!
Nuclear engineering, it said, manipulating the elements in order to generate energy. So this world did have magic!
Reka felt a rush of joy and exaltation; this was magic of a kind that she had never seen, so alien to her that her senses didn't even recognize it as magic. She dived in with relish, but deflated after an hour of fruitless study without understanding.
These were the books of an adept she concluded, with too much background knowledge assumed. Forcing herself to learn with a mind acceleration spell was an option, but she only consumed one portion of Brad's seed, and didn't dare waste the energy, better to keep it in reserve in case she needed to get out of a tight spot.
She tapped her chin rhythmically, what to do, what to do...
Brad, of course, the thought came to her like lightning. Reka was an adept, but Brad was an apprentice, or "undergrad". He would have the books she needed to make sense of this. It seemed that fate was on her side; Reka's connection to Brad Regis would serve her well.
And the way he looked at her, called her beautiful, nobody ever looked at the Demon Queen like that. Respect? Yes. Fear? Certainly, but never love, never affection. One thousand years in absolute isolation had effected her more than she could say. The tenderness in his eyes was a balm on her soul. His books would enlighten her, and his seed would strengthen her. Yes, Brad Regis would be critical to her plans going forward.
She paced back and forth across her chambers, wishing to go to him at once, but time had gotten away from her. It was the dead of night, and he was likely abed. Reka would go to him in the morning.
Just as she settled back down in a likely vain attempt to make more sense of Reka's notes, somebody knocked on her chamber door roughly.
Brad! she hoped, but no. She couldn't sense his energy beyond the door. Deflated, she answered the late night caller.
A man brazenly tried to force his way past the threshold of her chamber door, the insolence!
She flung him back, remembering to not use her full strength at this last second. She didn't want to deal with disposing a dead body just yet.
The fool had no fear of her. "What the fuck, Reka?" he snarled. "What about our deal?"
Deal? This man had information about Reka's past. Perhaps this was an unexpected boon.
"What deal?" she asked neutrally.
The man looked even angrier. "Are you being serious right now? Are you such a goddamn junkie that you forget your promises?"
"Remind me," Reka commanded sternly.
The man took a deep breath, as if to calm himself, muttering insolently. She caught the word "pills" but not much else. "I give you what you want, and you give me what I want," he explained slowly, as if to a child.
"And what do you want?" she pressed him.
"You, Reka," he said darkly, and she saw it in his eyes. The man desired her, but it wasn't like the way Brad looked at her, baser, coarser somehow. She didn't like it at all and had no intention of giving the pleasures of her body to one such as him.
"I got you those designer drugs from the underground factory in Prague, now it's time to pay up!"
He reached for her again, hands moving to grope her.
"Stop!" she ordered, infusing the words with compulsion magic. It was either use the magic or break his wrists. Reka was glad she hadn't wasted the energy on mind acceleration.
"Leave us," she instructed, "and trouble me and my house no more," she said with finality.
The man's eyes went blank, his face slackened, and he fled from her as a thing accursed, as well he should have done from the first.
Reka released a breath she had been holding. She had enemies for sure, connections with criminal elements who demanded women to pay with their body. This was not ideal.
She needed Brad. That simple spell, which would've been trivial to the Demon Queen, drained her more than she expected. It was a few hours until dawn. When the sun rose, she would go to him.
*****************************************
Brad's point of view
It was real, all of it. Reka Fekete dragged him into a secluded corner of the library and sucked him off. He couldn't believe it. They hadn't said more than five words to one another this whole semester, but there she was, claiming his cock with her mouth. He'd jacked off three times to the memory of it, and she said they would talk later!
Did he, did he dare to hope that more would come of this? Or was this just a one time miracle? As a general rule, Brad Regis did not have good luck. It was entirely possible, even likely, that she was so messed up on those pills that she would've blown any convenient man.
It wasn't a nice thought; he didn't want to think of Reka that way, but it was the most likely explanation given what he knew about her. Still, it wasn't like he was in any position to object if Reka wanted to pop pills and fuck randoms. He just hoped one of the randoms would be him.
He hardly slept, obviously, tossing and turning in his single person dorm room. The other guys didn't want to room with the old man of the class, so he got the single. It was a bit sad, how these people didn't want to give him a chance just because he was a little older, but it worked in his favor in this case. Brad didn't fancy having to explain his need to shotgun masturbate to a roomie's judging face.
The first rays of early morning sunshine were peaking through his window and there was no chance he was getting back to sleep. He started thinking about heading down to breakfast when there was a knock on the door.
No way.
He opened it.
Yes way!
Reka was there, looking meticulously put together as always, if anything, she looked better than usual. Her skin, hair, and eyes had a healthy glow. Her complexion was clear; the little lines at the corners of her eyes had disappeared, but she didn't appear to be wearing any makeup. What did she do?
"Hello, Brad," she greeted him warmly. "May I come in?"
Reality was warping around him. This couldn't possibly be real. He just stood there, stunned, for he didn't know how long.
"Brad, I'm waiting," Reka said politely, but he could tell her patience was running thin. There was something different in her eyes, an imperiousness, like she wasn't used to people telling her no.
"O-of course," he stuttered, letting her in and shutting the door behind.
She surveyed his room with a critical eye. He couldn't tell if she was pleased or displeased. Brad kept things neat and tidy, a habit the Navy drilled into him. Did she think he was lame and boring?
"Well then, it's a new day," she said conversationally. "Shall we make love?"
Wait. Reka didn't have an accent. What the fuck? Is this how she sounded sober?
No! Stop thinking!
"Yes," he agreed, and leaned down to kiss her.
Reka did not kiss him back for half a moment, and he feared he'd made some grave error, but her posture changed and she responded eagerly, crushing her thin yet voluptuous body against his, arms wrapping around his shoulders with surprising strength, pulling him down to deepen the kiss.
Her mouth parted gently and her tongue darted out to probe his lips. Taking the hint, he opened his mouth to receive her. Reka's tongue was longer and more flexible than any he had ever encountered, at first caressing his tongue, then dominating it, almost coiling around it like a snake. It felt amazing. She felt amazing. She tasted like fruit and fantasy and every happy memory he ever had.
At last she pulled back. Brad was sucking air and savoring the remnants of her saliva in his mouth. The places her tongue had touched still tingled faintly. He'd never been this turned on in his life.
"Excellent, you're ready for me," Reka said, sounding almost businesslike, stepping away from him. "Let us disrobe and I'll take you inside me on the bed."
After a kiss that seared his soul, it was a weird whiplash just awkwardly undressing in front of each other. Brad assumed Europeans were direct and matter-of-fact about such matters, or maybe it was just Reka.
When she discharged her perfect boobs from one of those special bras designed to give busty girls extra support, it felt like his dick grew another half-inch in response.
She smiled at him. "You may play with my breasts all you like while I ride you," she said generously.
As strange as this whole thing was, at least she seemed to be pretty keyed into his desires. He was glad he'd cum multiples times already, or he wouldn't last thirty seconds.
Reka guided him to his own bed like a nurse with a patient, and then, once she made sure he was comfortable, mounted him.
Her hot grasping pussy was unreal, taking in his full length at once. And it was hot. Much like her mouth, it felt like Reka just ran on a higher temperature than other girls. Her hips rocked slowly, steadily, teasing his length in a way that wrenched a moan from his mouth.
Remembering her promise, Brad reached for her tits, and if anything, they felt better than they looked: firm, gravity defying, but still pliant and jiggly. Despite everything, he felt himself getting too excited too fast.
As if sensing this, Reka stopped grinding on him and bent down, resting her heavy breasts on his chest, trailing kisses along his neck and jawline, letting him recover his composure.
God, how can anyone be this perfect? She knows just what to do for me.
Her hand gripped the back of his head and raised his lips to hers. This kiss was different, calming, encouraging, like she wanted him to relax. After a sweet moment passed she resumed actively riding him.
Reka gradually picked up the pace, and he found he could hold back his cum this time. She supported herself with her hands braced against his chest as she rose and fell, her hungry pussy not wanting to give up his cock each time she lifted up. Brad didn't know what to do with his hands, migrating them from her boobs to her hips again and again, just holding on and gritting his teeth in pleasure.
Her boobs bounced obscenely, like the most ridiculous hentai jiggle physics a pervert could animate. He held them in his hands, as much as he could fit, and tried to steady them as a kind gesture. He knew some women didn't enjoy the sensation of their naked breasts bouncing unsupported for a prolonged time.
Brad's eyes appreciated her whole form, taking it all in as if he was trying to burn a hard copy into his brain. Her eyes never left his. Her gorgeous green eyes, so kind, so serene, betrayed nothing other than her determination to pleasure him. It was weird being catered to like that, like she was putting on a show for his sake alone.
Plap! Plap! Plap! Her bouncing intensified. Finally, she started vocalizing her own desire, her heavy breathing impossibly erotic.
"I want you to fill me with your seed, Brad," she instructed between grunts and heavy exhales.
Creampie her? Holy shit!
Reka's body was literally the perfect babymaking machine. She had a flawless hourglass figure, heavy on top with wide childbearing hips below. He wanted it. He knew she was almost certainly on birth control but he was free to fantasize.
I'm going to get you pregnant, Reka! I'm going to make you mine.
She was going completely wild now, riding him hard in determination to milk him for all he was worth, and Brad was bucking up to meet her halfway. They both wanted this, he could sense it.
Some instinct made him look into her eyes then. There was something there, something primal, something powerful, something that demanded everything he had to give and more. He wanted to give her everything. He NEEDED to give her everything!
Something snapped inside Brad Regis. His feet pointed straight to the wall. His toes curled. His hips snapped forward, ancient male instinct compelling him to get as deep as possible to maximize the chances of pregnancy. He screamed, really screamed, and his vision went blurry. Reka shined like an angel. Her pussy clamped down insistently as he blew one of the biggest loads of his life into this perfect beauty.
Her pussy seemed like a living thing with a mind of its own, rippling and milking him, not letting a drop of his seed escape.
Reka finally broke eye contact and threw her head back, a roar of triumph and the satisfaction of a lioness coming from her throat. She wasn't bouncing anymore, just grinding, grinding him into the bed with all her strength and weight, trying to keep him as deep as possible, safely sheathed in her hot womanhood.
Once he was completely spent she lowered herself and embraced him. Her sweaty, flushed body seemed no less perfect to him.
A completely irrational impulse struck him. If there was a chance, he had to take it. He had to make her his.
"Will you be my girlfriend, Reka?" he asked into her slick black hair.
"Girlfriend?" She seemed puzzled. "What it this?"
Oh god, the language barrier is back.
"You know...like a couple? A man and woman being together?"
"Ah," she nodded. "You mean mates. I thought we were already mates?" It was more a statement than a question. Did Reka consider sucking his dick in the library to be the start of their relationship?
"Mates, right," he tried to seem casual, but there was a limit to how casual you could sound with the most beautiful woman ever naked, on your bed, and in your arms.
"I guess they call it mates where you're from, Reka. But in America we call it boyfriend and girlfriend. If I'm your boyfriend and you're my girlfriend it means we belong to each other, exclusively, officially, like facebook official, you know?"
Reka didn't look like she knew.
"You belong to me, and I belong to you," she said slowly, processing it.
"Yes," he said too quickly. "It's important to make these things official and unambiguous. I'm formally asking you to be my girlfriend."
She looked at him flatly for a moment, and he was afraid she would refuse.
"Very well, I accept your offer," Reka said seriously.
Brad's heart leapt with joy. He gathered her close and kissed her fiercely, trying to pour all of things he felt about her for the past year into the kiss. When they broke the kiss he beamed down at her, the happiest he had ever been in his whole life.
"You know, boyfriend," she said strangely. "I noticed you didn't release as much seed today as yesterday. Why is this?"
Oh shit. Is she gonna be one of the crazy jealous ones?
"Well, darling," Brad said, thinking embarrassing honesty would be best, "We weren't together last night, so I took care of myself."
Don't mention other women, please.
Like a switch had been flipped, her faced transformed. She pinned him onto his back and straddled him again, but there wasn't anything sexy about it. She wasn't an angel, she was a devil! Her hands dug into his shoulders hard enough to hurt and she pressed her nose to his.
"This is unacceptable!" she said with a sneer. "You belong to me! Your seed belongs to me! If you wish to release your seed you will come to me and me only. This is official, like facebook official, yes?"
"Yes," he gulped. "Facebook official."