A.Storey
Planetoid
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2024
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Last edited:
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My Sabbatical with a Succubus | ~ a dark comedy horror by [Degusaurusrex & A.Storey]
OP
OP
A.Storey
Planetoid
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2024
Name: Sebastian Wells
Identity: Male
Age: 32
Height: 6'1 / 185 cm
Weight: 84 kg / 185 lbs
Hair: Brown, wavy and tousled
Eyes: Green
Facial Features: Light stubble
Body: Lean athletic build
The last semester of the academic year was always an odd one. On the one hand students were either focused on preparing for final exams or tying up any loose ends prior to the end of the year. And on the other, few people were switched on and paid little attention to whatever Dr. Sebastien Wells was attempting to share in his classes. At times, he wondered whether even he should be bothered at all.
When the last day of the last semester had finished and the university officially entered its summer mode of operations, Sebastien leaned back in his office chair, puffed out his cheeks and exhaled over a year's worth of pent-up frustrations and relief. Another year over, with a new one on the horizon.
Seb loved teaching – or rather, he loved to share and show off his knowledge and perspectives. He enjoyed the process of convincing someone of his views, to help them see the error of their ways, to imbue critical thinking and holistic analysis into the enquiring minds of the next generation. In his view, that's what universities and colleges were supposed to be for, not a production line for humans with paper qualifications and finely polished resumes.
The summer period offered Seb time to reflect upon his own life, on his classes and whether they were as effective as he had hoped at the beginning. He was such a contemplative individual that always had more questions he wanted answered. He had such a curious mind and inquisitive spirit – it came with the territory of being a psychology professor, the constant study and analysis of the human mind inevitably led him to wonder about his own temperament and to seek to understand what he observed in others around him, including the curious, somewhat illogical behavior of everyday people.
He'd openly ponder a wide range of questions, from 'why do people not reverse park?' to 'what motivates someone to steal, or to kill another?'. The study of the mind, of the reasons why people do the things they do, think and feel whatever it is they think, and feel had always fascinated Seb. How much of this was down to psychology, and how much of it was down to neurological chemistry? That, as Dr Wells liked to counter Shakespeare, was the question.
Once all his course teaching obligations had wrapped up, and the warmer more pleasant evening weather became more common, Sebastien would begin to walk to his campus office from home. It took him about thirty minutes – perhaps a bit more on the warmer days and if he stopped into a coffee shop en route. The walk took him through a large spacious park, that during the semester would be filled with students all relaxing and enjoying the sun.
Sometimes on the way home, he'd stop in the park in the early evening and sit on the benches to take in the fresh air of the outdoors and bask in the gentle warmth of the setting sun. That red sky was as much an indicator of the time of day, as it was a stark reminder of all the pollutants in the air. It was a stunning backdrop that foreshadowed the slow destruction of a home everyone pretended to care about.
Even in its slow death... the Earth somehow managed to find a way to bleed color across the sky. Funny, he thought... how something so deadly still looked so beautiful...
This became his routine over the last two summers: wake up early; walk to his office with a coffee picked up on the way; answer emails in the morning before taking a long leisurely lunch in the courtyard of campus. In the late afternoon, he worked on his publications or his class materials for next semester into the early evening before leaving via the park, where he spent an hour or two reading some articles or a book. Once the sky began to darken, he'd begin to make the rest of his way home.
Degusaurusrex
Supernova
- Joined
- Apr 5, 2019
July 15
There were good days, and there were bad days in the city. At times, Delilah wondered why she had taken to scouring the streets of this particular city and not a different one. Summer had certainly impacted her hunting grounds in more ways than one, but it had also forced her to become more aware and strategic in everything that she did. Summer meant that there were oh so many more humans out and about running errands or partying, but it also meant that the presence of authorities had heightened to handle the out-of-control parties that escalated in the summer nights.
Humans had a proclivity for day drinking, it seemed, especially if they were out of work and had nothing better to do. It never ceased to amaze her they managed to survive without jobs or steady paychecks in the modern day. How she would see the same humans loitering on corners or stumbling out of liquor stores day after day, repeating the same steady downfall of their miserably short lives. That was another thing that continued to surprise her; how much the human liver could handle of being abused day after day, year after year of daily binge drinking. Not that they all survived so long, of course, there were many a time where she would lay eyes on the corpses of those she'd debated following, blue in the lips and stiff limbs found days after their untimely demise. When no one cared to find you, the discovery of one's body was left to fate and was often half decomposed and scavenged by the wildlife before some unsuspecting soul stumbled over the mess and screamed their terror to the world.
The screaming itself didn't bother her, not even when the pitch and length was grating on her sensitive ears. It wasn't the way that the sound broke the otherwise silent nights and mornings, or the fact that occasionally it made her want to stab herself in the ears until she was deaf and unable to be tormented by human shock. No, it was the fact that someone was screaming and crying over the filth she'd removed from their world, that someone cared about a creature unworthy of even the air he breathed the day before. If those poor humans had known just why the corpse had been strewn in a back alley or inside the wooded parks, they wouldn't have spared it a second glance other than to alert the authorities and go about their day. When your own kind knew that you were a remorseless murderer or a rapist, their pity dried almost instantaneously. The exception with humans, it seemed, were others like them who felt no remorse at the horrible things they had done to the defenseless.
"Talk to me." She answered the phone and then crossed the street, looking around the dimly lit area and scanning storefronts to see what remained open. "You in my area, I assume, if you're calling?"
"Define area, Del. You still in the same shithole you were last week?"
"Makin' it less of a shithole each week. Meet for a drink?"
"Little corner bar with that southern hottie open tonight?"
"Always. See you in ten."
She slid the phone back in her pocket and continued down the street towards the bar in question. Mara had instantly taken a liking to the tall bartender with a heavy southern accent and staked her claim before Delilah had even gotten a word out to order her drink, and if she remembered correctly Mara had gone home with the charming human that same night. The fact that she was returning for another round... Well, that was going to be interesting, but so long as the other woman didn't kill the poor man with her appetite, Delilah didn't have any problem keeping to herself and finding other victims. The nice ones never caught her attention past a drink bought or a game of pool to pass the time, and she made it quite clear when they overstepped the line and incurred her wrath. Being called a "crazy bitch" wasn't entirely unusual in the bar crowd and she proudly wore the title without argument.
"Most expensive tequila, right?" By the time she'd slid into a seat at the bar and caught the bartender's attention, he was already on his way over to pluck a bottle from behind the bar. "You were here last week with that feisty little friend of yours. Mara, right?"
"Shouldn't talk about a girl behind her back, cowboy."
Delilah had heard the door open when Mara slipped in but said nothing, and she found a small amount of satisfaction in watching the bartender nearly spill the drink he was pouring her as the other redhead slipped into a seat. He recovered admirably quick with a twist of his wrist and wipe of a napkin, filling the glass and sliding it down to her on a coaster before turning to Mara.
"What'll it be this time, sweet cheeks?"
Their disgustingly sweet flirting started immediately and had Delilah tuning them out while she sipped on her drink. There were three different televisions behind the bar all playing different sports games and one movie she didn't recognize, and she chose to focus on that one until Mara finally untangled herself from the conversation with her partner for the night. No way the other demoness wasn't going home with the bartender again, between the clear flirting and the skimpy little outfit she'd come out in.
"You really should let me hook you up with someone, get rid of some of that tension in your shoulders."
"I don't need your help finding a hookup, Mara." She rolled her eyes. "Men flock to me all the time, why do you think it makes work so easy?"
"Yeah, but you never actually fuck any of them. I bet it'd be ten times more fun if you got an orgasm out of it, at least. Little death, indeed."
OP
OP
A.Storey
Planetoid
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2024
As summer began to lengthen the duration of the days, Sebastien found himself wanting to wander into the office later in the mornings. He opted to spend more personal time at the coffee shop, even checking and firing off some emails from his favorite rickety table inside. It meant though, that he’d end up staying a bit later than usual, delaying his evenings in the park as well. It suited him, he preferred reading on the park bench while there was less noise and commotion about.
However, with it being summer, the warmer weather and the extended hours sometimes brought out more of the idiots to the park and to the streets Seb took on his way home – often in groups or crowds of them all huddled together. They’d all congregate as if there was something important one of them had to say to the others. More often than not, any unlikely promise of substance was quickly eliminated by their loud raucous laughter. Which more than likely suggested that one or all of them were on their way to being drunk.
It was the price of summer. Humidity, bug bites, sticky nights and evening conditions that invited crowds and road closures. It was another reason why he preferred to walk instead of driving. On the one hand, economically, Sebastien rationalized that tourism, street festivals and outdoor concerts all brought in money for the city. They created jobs and even added energy and vibrancy to the city’s night life.
On the other hand, they almost always resulted in triggering a migraine in him; the noise levels, the extra trash, the rancid smell of sweaty people out late in the streets, the traffic, the pollution, and all the blaring sirens that turned what were normally peaceful streets into something resembling a riot. There was rarely ever a middle ground.
Thankfully, Seb lived on the quieter side of the city. His neighborhood was usually a calmer area, where the recurring local outrage was usually more about vehicles driving 5 miles per hour over the speed limit, or why the garbage pickup was not as timely this week than usual. Sebastien lived in the ultimate stereotypical example of a NIMBY-hood. Residents who complained about anything and everything that impacted their neighborhood but did so very little to even attempt to find a solution that worked as a bigger picture. That was Seb’s biggest disappointment – this behavior could all be explained academically; it was a common observation through all the literature, but it infuriated him to no-end.
For Seb, it all came down to the simple blissful ignorance that most people wanted to live their lives in – that small, cozy, convenient little bubble where they could thrive and pretend their lives had some meaning beyond consumerism, capitalism and their goddamn barbecues.
This was always what made Sebastien different from his peers, his family and friends – his somewhat endless appetite to understand and then challenge the status quo. It’s perhaps what led him into academia and lecturing; the appeal of potentially slapping some fucking sense into the next generation. It gave him hope for humanity and the planet.
The current bunch however... well, most of them could burn in hell for all he cared. And even those who he perhaps slightly cared about, sometimes he had to question whether he cared for reasons of genuine concern, or maybe it was just judgmental pity. Namely, these were some of his students – be it the freshmen, or his graduate students. They all made plenty of reckless, questionable choices. What good are those high GPAs when their I-and-EQs could practically be measured on two hands?
He had one class of students where they were all constantly morally outraged over whatever controversy or topic was fashionable that month; whatever was “trending” at the time ... But once challenged to propose a solution, to present even a hypothetical action plan that revealed the extent of work and effort required to enact real sustainable change – suddenly, there was a change of tune, a different perspective. Usually, one of convenience. Seb lamented how little substance these students possessed.
Another class, possibly the one he loathed the most – in the most professional sense of the word, because the students had so much potential and had initially excited him, until he realized many of them had personal agendas. They’d be incredibly engaged in class, asking some incredibly intelligent and fascinating questions that he loved to debate and postulate on. Sebastien learned that none of these questions were of genuine interest – or rather the answers he gave, the points he raised in response, no one was actually interested in them. These questions were all just a performance, as each keener, each Type-A student battled it out in some pointless, meaningless class performance. It was all for show; for their peers, for their classmates, and at times for their social media followers. What a pathetic waste of intellect.
To an extent, Sebastien was often able to forget and forgive these... characters and their choices. They were young, the world was big and scary, and there was much to learn and experience in ways they have never even thought about – there was yet so much beyond their immature comprehension. If he were to be truly honest with himself, he was not that different at that age.
Sebastien remained hopeful that these fools, wouldn’t necessarily grow up to become the idiots who disturbed his park-time reading. He believed that valuable life lessons would be taught to them somehow. It might take until their first real job application to be rejected, their first line of credit application to be denied, or the realization that their poorly paid internship was as good as it was going to get – but these were life-defining moments that spurred personal growth, maturity, resilience and genuine humility. For many at least.
For some others who outright refused to adapt and learn, those who were destined to age, not so much grow-up per se, and become the idiots and general scum of society... well... they’d get their comeuppance eventually in some form or other. Even if Sebastien could save them from that fate – it felt more poetic to let natural selection decide.
However, with it being summer, the warmer weather and the extended hours sometimes brought out more of the idiots to the park and to the streets Seb took on his way home – often in groups or crowds of them all huddled together. They’d all congregate as if there was something important one of them had to say to the others. More often than not, any unlikely promise of substance was quickly eliminated by their loud raucous laughter. Which more than likely suggested that one or all of them were on their way to being drunk.
It was the price of summer. Humidity, bug bites, sticky nights and evening conditions that invited crowds and road closures. It was another reason why he preferred to walk instead of driving. On the one hand, economically, Sebastien rationalized that tourism, street festivals and outdoor concerts all brought in money for the city. They created jobs and even added energy and vibrancy to the city’s night life.
On the other hand, they almost always resulted in triggering a migraine in him; the noise levels, the extra trash, the rancid smell of sweaty people out late in the streets, the traffic, the pollution, and all the blaring sirens that turned what were normally peaceful streets into something resembling a riot. There was rarely ever a middle ground.
Thankfully, Seb lived on the quieter side of the city. His neighborhood was usually a calmer area, where the recurring local outrage was usually more about vehicles driving 5 miles per hour over the speed limit, or why the garbage pickup was not as timely this week than usual. Sebastien lived in the ultimate stereotypical example of a NIMBY-hood. Residents who complained about anything and everything that impacted their neighborhood but did so very little to even attempt to find a solution that worked as a bigger picture. That was Seb’s biggest disappointment – this behavior could all be explained academically; it was a common observation through all the literature, but it infuriated him to no-end.
For Seb, it all came down to the simple blissful ignorance that most people wanted to live their lives in – that small, cozy, convenient little bubble where they could thrive and pretend their lives had some meaning beyond consumerism, capitalism and their goddamn barbecues.
This was always what made Sebastien different from his peers, his family and friends – his somewhat endless appetite to understand and then challenge the status quo. It’s perhaps what led him into academia and lecturing; the appeal of potentially slapping some fucking sense into the next generation. It gave him hope for humanity and the planet.
The current bunch however... well, most of them could burn in hell for all he cared. And even those who he perhaps slightly cared about, sometimes he had to question whether he cared for reasons of genuine concern, or maybe it was just judgmental pity. Namely, these were some of his students – be it the freshmen, or his graduate students. They all made plenty of reckless, questionable choices. What good are those high GPAs when their I-and-EQs could practically be measured on two hands?
He had one class of students where they were all constantly morally outraged over whatever controversy or topic was fashionable that month; whatever was “trending” at the time ... But once challenged to propose a solution, to present even a hypothetical action plan that revealed the extent of work and effort required to enact real sustainable change – suddenly, there was a change of tune, a different perspective. Usually, one of convenience. Seb lamented how little substance these students possessed.
Another class, possibly the one he loathed the most – in the most professional sense of the word, because the students had so much potential and had initially excited him, until he realized many of them had personal agendas. They’d be incredibly engaged in class, asking some incredibly intelligent and fascinating questions that he loved to debate and postulate on. Sebastien learned that none of these questions were of genuine interest – or rather the answers he gave, the points he raised in response, no one was actually interested in them. These questions were all just a performance, as each keener, each Type-A student battled it out in some pointless, meaningless class performance. It was all for show; for their peers, for their classmates, and at times for their social media followers. What a pathetic waste of intellect.
To an extent, Sebastien was often able to forget and forgive these... characters and their choices. They were young, the world was big and scary, and there was much to learn and experience in ways they have never even thought about – there was yet so much beyond their immature comprehension. If he were to be truly honest with himself, he was not that different at that age.
Sebastien remained hopeful that these fools, wouldn’t necessarily grow up to become the idiots who disturbed his park-time reading. He believed that valuable life lessons would be taught to them somehow. It might take until their first real job application to be rejected, their first line of credit application to be denied, or the realization that their poorly paid internship was as good as it was going to get – but these were life-defining moments that spurred personal growth, maturity, resilience and genuine humility. For many at least.
For some others who outright refused to adapt and learn, those who were destined to age, not so much grow-up per se, and become the idiots and general scum of society... well... they’d get their comeuppance eventually in some form or other. Even if Sebastien could save them from that fate – it felt more poetic to let natural selection decide.
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Degusaurusrex
Supernova
- Joined
- Apr 5, 2019
July 17th
"Cigarette?" Delilah shook her head at the naked woman beside her and received a shrug in response before a flame flickered to life in the otherwise dark room. The smell of smoke wafted through the air as she stared up at the ceiling and closed her eyes, enjoying the breeze from the ceiling fan as the human beside her coughed and took another drag off her cigarette.
"I don't usually do this, you know." There was a pause and Delilah cracked an eye open to peer over at the woman who was positively radiating nervousness between hits of her cigarettes. "One-night stands, I mean." Another hit of the cigarette. "And definitely not with women. I'm straight-- at least I thought I was." The nervous laughter was grating on Delilah's nerves as she opened both eyes and forced herself into an upright position.
"You're all straight until you've had too much Tequila. I'm not going to judge you for having some fun and letting loose. Besides, it seemed like you really needed to unwind." She smirked and reached over to drag her nails along the woman's thigh, hearing the sharp intake of breath and the almost inaudible moan stuttered through a mouthful of smoke. "You want one more before I head out?"
"You're not staying the night?"
"I don't think that's what one-night stands do, sweetheart." Delilah was already shifting across the mattress and between the brunette's legs, pushing them apart and slinking her way up to graze her teeth across a bare breast with a laugh. Protests gave way to soft pleas and hushed moans as she spent the next twenty minutes tearing not one, not two, but three more orgasms from the quaking human who had long since abandoned her cigarette for the touch of the other woman. By the time Delilah finally extricated herself from the brunette's legs and sauntered off to the bathroom to jump in the shower, the poor human was only making nonsensical noises and vibrating against the damp sheets.
The shower was quick, just enough to wash the sweat and scent of sex from her skin before she was slinking back into the bedroom for her clothes. The human must have attempted to get up at some point and failed miserably, because Delilah found her sprawled out on her stomach across the mattress, one leg hanging off the bed and a blissful expression on her face as she slept. Well, that took care of any awkward goodbyes or clingy partners trying to coax her to stay for the night. She laughed and slipped back into her clothes, double checking that she had her phone and purse before locking the apartment door and leaving the exhausted woman to sleep through the night.
It was only midnight, still early enough to use her recently acquired energy to hunt if she so desired, but a part of her was ready to go home and relax. A nice long soak in her tub to wash away the rest of the woman's scent while sipping wine or whiskey would do her good, and the more that she thought about it the more Delilah found herself eager to get home. Hunting could wait another day, there was never going to be a shortage of prey in these types of cities. The wine, however, was calling her name even as she found herself slipping through a sturdy portal and exiting in her living room.
Clothes were shed the moment she was in the comfort of her own home, the purse and phone tossed carelessly at the couch as she passed through the kitchen just long enough to grab a bottle of wine from the fridge. She contemplated taking a glass with her as well before deciding against it, slipping into the bathroom and starting the water before popping the bottle's cork and taking a long drink. Who did she need to impress by drinking daintily from a fragile wine glass? Absolutely no one, leaving her free to dump salts and bubbles into the bath before she got in with her bottle and settled into the rising heat.
"Nothin' like home sweet home."
"Cigarette?" Delilah shook her head at the naked woman beside her and received a shrug in response before a flame flickered to life in the otherwise dark room. The smell of smoke wafted through the air as she stared up at the ceiling and closed her eyes, enjoying the breeze from the ceiling fan as the human beside her coughed and took another drag off her cigarette.
"I don't usually do this, you know." There was a pause and Delilah cracked an eye open to peer over at the woman who was positively radiating nervousness between hits of her cigarettes. "One-night stands, I mean." Another hit of the cigarette. "And definitely not with women. I'm straight-- at least I thought I was." The nervous laughter was grating on Delilah's nerves as she opened both eyes and forced herself into an upright position.
"You're all straight until you've had too much Tequila. I'm not going to judge you for having some fun and letting loose. Besides, it seemed like you really needed to unwind." She smirked and reached over to drag her nails along the woman's thigh, hearing the sharp intake of breath and the almost inaudible moan stuttered through a mouthful of smoke. "You want one more before I head out?"
"You're not staying the night?"
"I don't think that's what one-night stands do, sweetheart." Delilah was already shifting across the mattress and between the brunette's legs, pushing them apart and slinking her way up to graze her teeth across a bare breast with a laugh. Protests gave way to soft pleas and hushed moans as she spent the next twenty minutes tearing not one, not two, but three more orgasms from the quaking human who had long since abandoned her cigarette for the touch of the other woman. By the time Delilah finally extricated herself from the brunette's legs and sauntered off to the bathroom to jump in the shower, the poor human was only making nonsensical noises and vibrating against the damp sheets.
The shower was quick, just enough to wash the sweat and scent of sex from her skin before she was slinking back into the bedroom for her clothes. The human must have attempted to get up at some point and failed miserably, because Delilah found her sprawled out on her stomach across the mattress, one leg hanging off the bed and a blissful expression on her face as she slept. Well, that took care of any awkward goodbyes or clingy partners trying to coax her to stay for the night. She laughed and slipped back into her clothes, double checking that she had her phone and purse before locking the apartment door and leaving the exhausted woman to sleep through the night.
It was only midnight, still early enough to use her recently acquired energy to hunt if she so desired, but a part of her was ready to go home and relax. A nice long soak in her tub to wash away the rest of the woman's scent while sipping wine or whiskey would do her good, and the more that she thought about it the more Delilah found herself eager to get home. Hunting could wait another day, there was never going to be a shortage of prey in these types of cities. The wine, however, was calling her name even as she found herself slipping through a sturdy portal and exiting in her living room.
Clothes were shed the moment she was in the comfort of her own home, the purse and phone tossed carelessly at the couch as she passed through the kitchen just long enough to grab a bottle of wine from the fridge. She contemplated taking a glass with her as well before deciding against it, slipping into the bathroom and starting the water before popping the bottle's cork and taking a long drink. Who did she need to impress by drinking daintily from a fragile wine glass? Absolutely no one, leaving her free to dump salts and bubbles into the bath before she got in with her bottle and settled into the rising heat.
"Nothin' like home sweet home."