Chapter 7 (~11k words):
– Amara –
Are you still doing important things, or can I finally give you your built-up rewards now?
I blinked in surprise as my system's text flashed suddenly in front of my eyes, snapping me from my thoughts.
"What the fuck do you mean, 'too busy'? I never said that!" I snapped aloud, even though the damned thing could easily read my thoughts. "Wait, hold up… I have built-up rewards?"
Of course you have built-up rewards, my system immediately responded.
I scowled. When I first received this system, it adamantly insisted it wasn't sentient—yet now it had somehow developed enough personality to actively sass me?
When I attempted to grant you a reward a few days ago,it continued smugly,you specifically told me: 'Stop interrupting me when I'm busy!'
"Oh yeah?" I folded my arms under my chest and cocked my eyebrow defiantly. "And what exactly was I doing that was so damn important, huh?"
At the time, you were mid-orgasm.
My cheeks burned bright red, heat rising rapidly beneath my skin. That didn't…exactly narrow down the moment did it?
"Fine, fine," I grumbled, fighting to hide my embarrassment and failing miserably. "Just give me my rewards already. And consider that stupid order officially rescinded—I don't give a shit how busy I am next time. If you have rewards, hand them over immediately!"
Understood, Amara, it replied, and I swear it was still sassing me.
Congratulations on joining a secret society! You have gained the bloodline ability: Metamorphmagus. You now possess the power to alter your physical traits at will, although doing so will steadily drain your magical reserves. Transformations cannot be held indefinitely without sufficient magic.
I perked up in sudden excitement. Not that I'd ever genuinely want to change a damn thing about myself—after all, I was sex incarnate, every curve and supple inch of my flawless body perfectly crafted already.
Still, the ability thrilled me nonetheless. It meant I wouldn't have to rely on cumbersome disguises or illusions anymore. For a few blissful hours a day, I could simply become whoever the fuck I wanted. Hell, I was now the ultimate disguise.
Another notification flashed into existence, shimmering before my eyes:
Congratulations on taking down a famous villain permanently! You have gained the ability: Penguin Speech! You can now talk to penguins!
I blinked slowly, scowling slightly. Well, fuck. That one...okay, that one was pretty goddamn useless, if I was being totally honest with myself. What the hell was I supposed to do, open up a penguin petting zoo? Have a tuxedo-clad bird waddling awkwardly around our house, stinking the place up with fishy odor and shitting everywhere? Nope, hard pass. I mean, weren't those chubby bastards supposed to hibernate or something, anyway? Or was that polar bears? Whatever, penguin facts were pretty fucking low on my priority list right now.
I sighed, rolling my eyes dramatically. "Is that it, or are there more of these things?" I demanded impatiently.
Instantly, another glowing text materialized, the system seemingly amused by my irritation:
Congratulations on gaining your Soul-Bound Wand! You have gained the ability: Mana Siphon! You can now steal mana from people you have sex with. Stolen mana will be stored in a separate magical core within your body and will not dissipate over time. Theoretically, it possesses infinite capacity!
I paused, rereading the notification again carefully. Holy shit—was this thing serious? I now had an entirely separate magical core inside me dedicated exclusively to storing mana stolen through fucking?
Sex-powered magic storage...
I couldn't help but laugh aloud, shaking my head in amazement.
Yet another alert shimmered into existence, interrupting my naughty little fantasies:
Congratulations on gaining two magical pupils and/or sex slaves! You have gained the perk: Passionate Teacher! Your teaching skills are automatically twice as effective, and their effectiveness increases exponentially the less clothing you wear when teaching someone magic!
A wicked smile slowly spread across my lips as I read that delightful little tidbit. So, my teaching abilities improved dramatically if I stripped down and flaunted my body while instructing my lovely new Greengrass sisters? I couldn't wait to see their pretty, blushing faces as they tried desperately to concentrate on magic while staring at my perfectly bare breasts on full, shameless display.
Teaching magic was about to get a hell of a lot more interesting, and infinitely more fun…
After stepping from the shower for the second time today—ans it wasn't even night time yet—I sighed heavily, squeezing droplets from my thick mane of raven-black hair. The plush towel in my hands traveled slowly downward, soaking up the remaining moisture as I lazily admired my reflection in the steamed mirror.
A few hours earlier, Morgana had unceremoniously booted Daphne and Astoria from the basement ritual chamber—something about needing my absolute, undivided attention.
Her definition of 'attention' today apparently hadn't included fondling my tits—instead, she'd put my newly-acquired Soul-Bound Wand to rigorous, exhausting use. She wanted me to get used to casting with it as soon as possible since it made spells much more powerful and cost less mana to use.
Sure, learning new forms of potent magic thrilled me, but I'd ended up hot, sweaty, and exhausted—all without the blissful release of climax. It seemed criminally unfair that my body felt this drained, this overheated, yet completely unsatisfied.
Running the towel slowly down my ample breasts, I lingered for a moment, gently tracing over my sensitive nipples, sending a teasing shiver of anticipation straight between my thighs. Perhaps tonight Morgana or the Greengrass sisters could make up for this frustrating neglect. Hell, maybe I'd demand they all pitch in—god knew I deserved the attention after such strenuous magical training.
Dropping the towel carelessly to the floor, I let my mind wander a bit.
With the day's magical study finally behind me, the only question left was how exactly I'd indulge myself next. Maybe I should go out tonight? Not to rob another bank, but maybe just to have fun…?
Had—Had I ever actually done that before…?
Morgana was going to be busy tonight, and I felt like making the green grass sisters stew a little bit more. Rushing them into a completely different lifestyle than they were used to wouldn't do anybody any good.
I should just go out on my own then!
…Feeling more daring than usual tonight, I set aside my typical casual attire—jeans and a t-shirt—and reached into the back of my closet.
Now that I had my new Metamorphmagus powers, disguising myself would be a breeze.
Maybe I could even hit up a nightclub later—one that wasn't run by Gotham's newest brain-dead vegetable, of course. The Penguin might've been out of commission after selling us out and getting punished for it, but his club definitely wasn't the only source of fun and trouble in this sinful town.
With a sultry grin, I pulled out a skimpy black dress, inspecting the slinky, barely-there fabric with approval. Skin-tight, thin-strapped, and scandalously short—perfect for drawing attention.
I laid it carefully on my bed, anticipation beginning to tingle deliciously down my spine.
Standing nude in front of my mirror, I admired myself shamelessly, smiling as my eyes traveled slowly down my figure.
"Fuck, I look good tonight," I purred to my reflection, giving myself a playful wink. I wondered if it was because I got laid last night? Sex was supposed to be healthy for a Succubus, right? Or maybe it was just my [Sin of Lust!] that liked getting regularly satisfied?
You know, I should really start reading up more about my kind…
Reaching into my dresser, I grabbed a tiny black thong—little more than a thin scrap of lace—and bent forward at the waist, slipping one leg into the delicate panties, then the other. I pulled it slowly upward, wiggling my hips playfully as the fabric stretched snugly between my toned thighs, the thin string sliding perfectly between my firm ass cheeks.
Just as the thin lace settled deliciously into place, nestling warmly against my pussy, I abruptly felt something foreign pressing insistently against my consciousness—like fingertips gently brushing the edges of my mind.
My body stiffened, immediately wary.
"Hello, little succubus…" a teasing, familiar voice purred softly in my head.
My heart leaped at the intrusion!
"...Mazikeen?!" I whispered in shock. "How the fuck are you doing this?" Should I immediately call Morgana!?
She chuckled softly inside my head. "Relax, sweet Amara. It's just a harmless demonic messaging spell. Nothing dangerous, nothing intrusive. You can easily cut the connection or block me anytime you want."
I exhaled slowly, letting myself relax slightly—though the sheer ease with which she'd breached my mental defenses over a distance and through Morgana's wards unsettled me more than I cared to admit.
Still, I was undeniably intrigued about why she was "calling" me.
"Okay," I conceded hesitantly, biting my lip nervously. "So, what exactly do you want, Mazikeen?"
"Oh, so cautious. Before you shut me out, little succubus, I was simply curious. Are you busy tonight? I was hoping we might finally spend some quality time together…"
Was she asking me out on a date…?
A shiver raced down my spine at her flirtatious tone. "I...was actually thinking about going clubbing tonight," I confessed softly, heart racing slightly as I practically felt Mazikeen's wicked smirk curling across her lips.
"Mmm, perfect," she purred, voice dripping with satisfaction. "It just so happens I know all the best nightspots this filthy little city has to offer. Wouldn't you like me to show you a truly sinful night out, Amara?"
I hesitated, temptation pulling sharply at my core. A powerful demoness like Mazikeen would definitely know exactly where all the dirtiest, most hedonistic parties and clubs were hidden away.
Plus, I did want to go out tonight…
I know Morgana would not approve, but she was gone tonight and what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her right? Plus, maybe Mazikeen could end up answering some questions I had about being a demoness. Morgana knew a bit about demons, but not as much as either of us would have liked.
Mazikeen chuckled sensually. "I can feel your curiosity, little succubus. Say yes…"
I bit my lip softly, excitement fluttering wildly inside my stomach. "Fuck it," I finally relented breathlessly. "I'm in. Where do you want to meet…?"
I could feel Mazikeen's delight instantly, her pleasure surging vividly through the connection. "Wonderful! I'll send you a mental image of the location. Make sure that you dress to kill! I promise tonight will be utterly unforgettable."
Then, with one last teasing mental caress, Mazikeen's presence withdrew gently from my mind, leaving me flushed, breathless, and very, very aroused.
I glanced back at my skimpy dress on the bed, smiling wickedly. Well, I already was planning on dressing to kill, so I had that covered.
…After the sun went down, I stood before the bedroom mirror, thoroughly enjoying my newfound ability to shift my appearance. Sure, I absolutely adored my usual raven-black hair and striking emerald eyes. I mean, who wouldn't?
But tonight, I felt inspired by the Greengrass sisters and decided to channel their look instead.
Concentrating briefly, my dark hair brightened and lengthened into silky, wavy golden-blonde locks that cascaded over my shoulders and down my back. My eyes shifted to an icy, vibrant blue, matching theirs perfectly.
Checking my reflection in the mirror, I couldn't help but grin wickedly. Damn, I looked hot as a blonde too—this power was going to be incredibly fun. It felt like I could hold it for hours too, before my magic reserves would start to suffer.
With a confident toss of my new shimmering golden hair, I made my way downstairs.
Daphne and Astoria were lounging together on the couch, lazily chatting, but both instantly froze, mouths literally dropping open when their eyes fell upon me.
"Holy shit, Amara?" Astoria breathed, eyes wide and filled with unmistakable appreciation. She practically devoured me with her gaze, trailing from my daringly low neckline down to my exposed thighs, her cheeks flushing adorably pink.
Daphne swallowed audibly, clearly fighting to maintain her usual refined composure—but failing spectacularly. "You… you look incredible," she stammered softly, breath hitching slightly as she squirmed uncomfortably on the sofa, shifting her thighs together.
"I know," I purred playfully, shooting both girls a flirtatious wink as I walked past them toward the door, my hips swaying seductively beneath my scandalously short black dress. "Bye, Daphne, Astoria. I'm going out tonight, and don't worry—you two don't have to wait up for me."
Before either sister could gather their scattered thoughts enough to protest or question me further, I was already out the front door, giggling to myself about their confusion as I strutted down Gotham's darkening streets.
Strutting down Gotham's dimly-lit streets, wearing this slutty little dress, wasn't exactly a smart choice if you happened to be a helpless, defenseless young woman. But luckily for me, and unfortunately for anyone stupid enough to mistake me for an easy target, I was neither helpless nor defenseless.
It wasn't long before I sensed the presence of a group of men lingering behind me, their heavy footsteps echoing ominously against the pavement, their crude whispers being loud enough for me to hear them:
"Hey, look at that dumb bitch? Strutting around all arrogant.
"Let's have some fun with her and then take her money!"
"I want first dibs, I'm tired of always getting your sloppy seconds!"
I rolled my eyes at the disgusting comments.
Deciding a quick detour wouldn't hurt, I turned casually down a narrow alleyway, allowing them to eagerly follow with stupid grins spreading across their greasy faces as they moved closer, convinced they'd cornered an easy target.
I smirked while raising my new wand lazily as the first idiot lunged toward me. A sharp flick of my wrist sent a scorching bolt of fire directly into his chest, the smell of burning flesh filling my nostrils as he fell screaming, clawing helplessly at his rapidly charring torso.
His two friends stood paralyzed for a split second in disbelief, mouths agape, clearly not expecting their prey to bite back. I didn't grant them any chance to run. Two more precise, merciless spells exploded from my wand in rapid succession, slamming violently into their stunned bodies and dropping them like lifeless sacks of meat onto the filthy alley pavement.
In just moments, three smoldering corpses lay at my feet, their worthless lives snuffed out effortlessly by my potent magic. Humming softly to myself, I used a simple levitation spell to toss the freshly charred bodies into a nearby dumpster, carefully ensuring I hadn't gotten a single drop of their disgusting blood or gore on my flawless skin or dress.
I giggled softly, running my fingers through my silky blonde hair before sashaying back out onto the sidewalk with renewed confidence with my hips swaying seductively beneath the thin fabric of my scandalous dress.
– Nightwing –
"...These three were killed by fire magic, very recently," Raven murmured quietly, her voice oddly calm as she knelt beside the dumpster, fingertips hovering lightly over the charred flesh.
Nightwing grimaced as he stared at the scorched remains within, the unmistakable acrid stench of burnt human flesh curling nauseatingly through the cool Gotham night.
He and Raven had been on patrol together, scouring the shadowed streets and dingy alleys for any sign of Morgana's apprentice, Amara, when Raven had abruptly halted mid-flight. She'd faintly detected traces of magic emanating from a few blocks away.
But they'd been just a fraction too late. Now they were staring at three corpses unceremoniously dumped like garbage—still steaming faintly, cooked flesh blistered grotesquely beneath blackened skin.
"Do you think this was Amara?" Nightwing asked.
"From the other bodies we witnessed at Penguin's club," Raven said carefully, her violet eyes narrowing thoughtfully, "She seems to prefer using fire magic. It matches the kind of energy signature she left behind. So yes… I think so."
Nightwing sighed heavily, running a gloved hand through his dark hair. He flipped open his comm, quickly contacting Gotham PD and quietly reporting the grisly discovery. As he relayed the location, his eyes kept drifting toward the narrow streets around them, instinctively searching for any lingering presence—particularly that of a stunning, dangerous witch whose beautiful face refused to leave his mind…
After ending the call, he turned toward Raven again, expression tense. "But why here?" he wondered aloud. "What could she possibly be looking for around this part of town?"
Raven folded her slender arms thoughtfully beneath her cloak, drawing it tighter around herself as though she felt a sudden chill. "When I flew over, I noticed some kind of nightclub not far from here…? Could it be that? Villains like to party don't they?"
Dick's eyes narrowed slightly in thought. "That must be the Inferno Club," he said slowly, a knot forming uncomfortably in his stomach.
He knew its reputation well enough—a hidden gem of sin and debauchery, a place designed to satisfy every filthy desire and sordid indulgence imaginable. Drugs, sex, violence, and depravity blended seamlessly beneath the flashing lights, pounding music, and seductive darkness.
Nightwing's jaw tightened subtly as he imagined Amara—beautiful, alluring, sensual Amara—stepping boldly into such a den of iniquity. Irrationally, protective instincts flared in his chest, urging him forward, driving the need to find her, to somehow shield her from harm… even if she had just casually incinerated three people. The contradiction gnawed at him, confusing and frustrating.
"It's not a great place," he admitted quietly to Raven, voice hardening with distaste. "It's… explicit. The kind of club people visit to lose themselves entirely—sex, drugs, alcohol, every taboo and indulgence you can imagine, openly on display."
Raven's cheeks flushed slightly at his blunt description, her usually calm, reserved expression flickering momentarily into embarrassment. Still, she recovered quickly, nodding seriously. "If she's there, we'll need to get inside. I can cloak us both easily, let us sneak in unnoticed—"
Dick held up a hand, cutting her off gently, the faintest smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth despite the grim situation. "Actually, Raven, we don't have to sneak in."
She blinked at him curiously, the blush still lingering softly upon her pale skin. "What do you mean?"
"You forget who my father is," Dick explained patiently, allowing a faint smile to briefly ease the tension. "I'm Bruce Wayne's son. Places like Inferno—they cater specifically to Gotham's wealthiest degenerates and celebrities. Dick Grayson would have absolutely no trouble getting inside through the front door!"
Raven stared at him for a long moment, comprehension finally dawning across her face. "Oh," she finally said softly, shifting uncomfortably. "But… not dressed like this. If we're entering as civilians, we'd have to blend in properly."
Nightwing nodded in agreement, glancing briefly down at his armored suit, then letting his eyes drift quickly down Raven's cloaked form.
Though the sorceress hid herself beneath dark robes now, he'd glimpsed enough of her figure in training sessions and quiet moments around Titans Tower to know Raven possessed a devastatingly sensual body beneath that modest facade. His mouth went momentarily dry at the sudden mental image of Raven wearing a scandalously revealing dress and heels—the truth was, before he got with Starfire, he used to have a big crush on Raven. Alongside half the internet apparently.
His mind then drifted to an image of Raven and Amara dancing together with him under the strobing lights…
Dick quickly pushed the provocative thought aside, mentally chastising himself. Now definitely wasn't the time for such distractions—though clearly his recent encounters with Amara were seriously fucking with his self-control.
Clearing his throat roughly, he turned abruptly away, trying to sound casual and failing entirely. "We'd better head back to the Manor first then," he said briskly. "We'll both need something more appropriate for clubbing. Something… believable."
"Agreed," Raven murmured softly from behind him, her voice oddly strained, as though she, too, was battling similarly inappropriate thoughts.
Nightwing spared one last grim glance toward the scorched bodies before grappling silently upward, Raven floating smoothly beside him as they returned swiftly toward Wayne Manor.
– Amara –
I arrived at the nightclub Mazikeen had given me directions to, instantly spotting her standing confidently just outside the building. She was lounging casually near the long line of impatient patrons, utterly ignoring their curious stares.
My breath caught momentarily at the sight of her.
Mazikeen wore sinfully tight black leather pants, clinging to every tempting curve of her shapely hips and toned thighs. Her upper half was barely contained within a scandalously low-cut leather vest, the supple black material parted enticingly to reveal the generous swell of her gorgeous, dark-skinned cleavage. Her long, dark hair cascaded elegantly down her shoulders, framing an absolutely breathtaking vision of raw, seductive beauty.
Her dark eyes swept curiously over my blonde disguise at first, a puzzled frown crossing her luscious lips—but recognition dawned quickly, her expression shifting into a wickedly delighted smirk. "Trying out a new look, beautiful succubus?" Mazikeen teased, her voice a sultry purr as she drank me in approvingly.
I shrugged lightly, attempting to sound casual. "Just didn't feel like being bothered tonight," I explained quietly, shifting self-consciously beneath her penetrating stare. "My normal look is becoming far too recognizable in this damned city."
Mazikeen's smirk deepened. "Mmm, blondes are plenty of fun, too," she purred suggestively, leaning closer until her warm breath brushed sensuously against my ear. "Especially when the carpet matches the drapes—and they're riding my face."
My cheeks flushed crimson at her explicit teasing, and before I could form a coherent reply, Mazikeen's slender, powerful arm slid possessively around my waist. She pulled me intimately close, pressing our hips snugly together as she guided me smoothly toward the club's entrance.
The burly bouncer stationed at the doorway took one appreciative glance at the two of us approaching—his gaze lingering hungrily over Mazikeen's barely-contained breasts, then dropping briefly to my scandalously short black dress and toned thighs—before wordlessly unclipping the velvet rope and waving us eagerly forward.
"You two ladies head right on in," he said with an openly lustful grin, completely ignoring the indignant cries and jealous complaints erupting from the long line of patrons forced to wait their turn! Without even bothering to look at them, he called over his shoulder with lazy mockery, "Maybe try being less fucking ugly if you don't wanna wait next time!"
Mazikeen chuckled softly, and tightened her hold on me even further, guiding me through the darkened entrance into the pounding, throbbing beat of the crowded nightclub.
Inside, neon lights strobed wildly, painting the tightly packed mass of bodies with vivid hues of electric pink and sultry violet. I felt Mazikeen's lips brush teasingly against the sensitive curve of my neck as she murmured against my skin, "Tell me, sweet Amara, however did you manage to escape your strict little Mistress Morgana tonight? I didn't think she liked me very much."
My blush deepened as embarrassment burned brightly across my cheeks. "Um, well…" I began hesitantly…
Mazikeen didn't miss my embarrassment. "Ohh," she whispered knowingly. "She doesn't even know you're here with me, does she, Amara?"
I bit my lower lip, heart pounding fiercely within my chest as I met Mazikeen's gaze. "Not exactly," I confessed quietly. "She wasn't home tonight, so I just decided to go out on my own…"
Her full lips curled in open delight as her hand slowly, deliberately slid downward, tracing a tantalizing path across my hip and lower back before boldly cupping the rounded curve of my ass through the thin fabric of my dress. "Oh, this night just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?" she purred seductively. "Come, little succubus—let's have some real fun."
She stepped back, taking my hand firmly in her own, and led me confidently toward the crowded dance floor.
The pulsating beat of the club surged through my body, matching my racing heartbeat as Mazikeen pulled me onto the packed dance floor. Bright neon strobes flashed overhead, illuminating the dense, writhing mass of bodies around us. Sweat, alcohol, and raw sexual tension hung thick in the smoky air. I'd never experienced anything like this before, and I fucking loved every second of it!
Maze spun around, pressing her shapely hips back against me with a playful smirk, grinding slowly in rhythm with the music. I laughed freely, slipping my hands onto her hips, savoring the way her leather pants molded perfectly to the lush curves of her firm ass. Every sway and twist of her hips sent a pleasant jolt of warmth straight between my thighs.
She turned around, hips still swaying gracefully, and grabbed my waist, pulling me flush against her body. Our breasts pressed warmly together through our thin clothing as she leaned in close, lips brushing teasingly against my ear. "Enjoying yourself, little succubus?" she purred huskily, voice dripping seduction beneath the throbbing bass of the music.
I shivered in delight, grinning widely as I bounced lightly in place, my scandalously short dress riding dangerously high with each movement. "Fuck yes," I admitted breathlessly. "I've never been out like this—it's amazing!"
Mazikeen's smile widened, clearly pleased with herself as she pulled back slightly, her hips moving in hypnotic rhythm.
Around us, dancers surged and flowed. Occasionally, someone nearby—sometimes a guy, sometimes a bold girl—reached out and grabbed a generous handful of my ass beneath my skimpy dress. Normally, that would have pissed me off, but tonight it just amused me.
Hell, I was practically asking for it in a dress this slutty, and honestly, the raw, primal atmosphere had me feeling hotter and more liberated than ever before.
Maze caught me giggling after a particularly firm squeeze from a cute brunette behind me. "Feeling generous tonight?" she teased knowingly, clearly having noticed how easily I'd shrugged off all the wandering hands. She grinned wickedly, eyes glittering as she leaned closer again. "Careful, Amara—keep letting strangers cop a feel, and I might start feeling possessive."
I flushed warmly beneath her teasing gaze, hips swaying slowly in seductive invitation. "Maybe I like seeing you jealous," I shot back playfully.
"Oh, sweet succubus," she purred, voice lowering sensually, "you'd definitely enjoy my jealousy more if we were somewhere private."
Before I could respond, a young guy slipped between us, his pupils dilated and eyes slightly glazed. He leaned close. "Hey, gorgeous ladies!" His eyes darted appreciatively over both of our bodies. "Interested in buying some party favors? I've got top-quality shit tonight."
I blinked, momentarily startled, before amusement overtook me.
Fucking Gotham.
Only here would dealers stroll up and casually offer their wares right in the middle of a crowded dance floor.
Mazikeen chuckled softly beside me, clearly sharing my thoughts. She shook her head smoothly, running her hand suggestively down my hip as she replied. "Maybe later," she told him teasingly, her voice silky and dismissive. "But we don't want to lose our inhibitions just yet. The night's still young..."
He shrugged easily, completely unfazed by her refusal. "No problem," he said casually, already moving off toward another group of dancers who looked eager for his product. "You ladies have fun."
Mazikeen laughed again, shaking her head as she pulled me intimately against her body once more. Her dark gaze found mine. "Drugs aren't really my thing," she confessed lightly with her thumb tracing suggestive circles on my lower back. "I'd rather remember every filthy detail clearly tomorrow morning."
"I've never actually tried any," I admitted quietly, hips swaying smoothly against hers. "Not that I feel like I'm missing out."
She smiled approvingly. "Smart girl," she murmured warmly against my neck. "How about drinks instead?"
Before I could agree, a pair of men stepped forward, grinning confidently as they eyed us. "Hey, beautiful ladies," the taller of the two shouted over the music. "Let us buy you both some drinks?"
Mazikeen gave him a lazy smile, pressing herself shamelessly against me and sliding her palm slowly down my ass, making it abundantly clear exactly who I belonged to tonight. "Sorry, boys," she purred smugly, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she tightened her possessive hold around my waist. "I'll be paying for my date myself."
With a sultry wink aimed directly at me, she smoothly guided us through the throng of dancers, leaving the disappointed men staring longingly after us.
Hm…
What was the drinking age in America again—twenty-one? Fuck it. Not like bartenders in this degenerate city would care I was nineteen anyway, especially dressed like this. Besides, twenty-one seemed like such a stupidly arbitrary number to me. I mean, here I was, apprenticed to one of Gotham's most wanted villains and even tonight I'd just murdered three rapist assholes in cold blood.
The vodka cranberry or whatever the hell Maze had handed me hardly seemed risky by comparison.
Still, I couldn't shake a nervous flutter in my stomach as I raised the glass to my lips. I'd never actually had hard alcohol before—just butterbeer Sirius gave me—but I sure as hell wasn't about to let Mazikeen see me hesitate and think I was some sheltered little girl.
I watched Maze confidently toss back her own shot like it was nothing..
Fuck, she looked sexy doing that. I forced myself to match her, carefully taking a slow sip of mine. The liquid burned warmly down my throat, sharp yet strangely pleasant, the taste surprisingly enjoyable. Heat immediately blossomed within my belly, spreading outward with every cautious sip. After just a few more tentative tastes, a gentle, pleasant buzz began to hum through me, making my limbs feel slightly lighter, more relaxed.
Okay, yeah, I definitely saw the appeal now.
Mazikeen flashed me a wicked grin and grabbed my hand again, pulling me firmly away from the bar and back out onto the crowded dance floor. The club's pulsing lights blurred pleasantly around me, the music almost seemed deeper and slower, vibrating deliciously through my entire body.
Our bodies swayed closer this time, hips grinding softly, slowly against each other in perfect sync. Maze held me close, her hands sliding possessively down my back and settling firmly on my ass as we danced, her thigh slipping between mine, pressing teasingly upward into my core with every subtle movement. The contact sent hot pulses of arousal through me, my skin tingling, nipples hardening beneath my thin dress.
Fuck, she definitely knew exactly what she was doing to me.
Suddenly, a low, unmistakable moan drifted toward us over the pounding bass. I turned my head curiously, eyes widening slightly as I spotted a couple dancing just a few feet away—well, "dancing" was definitely stretching it. A slutty-looking blonde, her skirt so absurdly short it barely covered half her firm ass cheeks, stood bent forward slightly, grinding shamelessly back against the man behind her.
My cheeks flushed crimson when I realized they weren't just dancing—they were openly fucking right there in the middle of the dance floor. His cock was jutting thickly from his opened pants, plunging smoothly and rhythmically into her wet, glistening pussy with every rolling thrust of their hips. She was moaning lewdly, her heavy tits bouncing slightly beneath the tight fabric of her skimpy top with each deep, plunging stroke. Nobody around them seemed remotely bothered—hell, the crowd even parted slightly to give them extra room.
Mazikeen laughed wickedly beside me, clearly amused by my shocked reaction. Her lips brushed against my ear as she purred teasingly, "Oh, this place is almost as delightfully debauched as Lucifer's club, The Lux…"
Before my attention focused back on her, a new voice called out next to us.
"...Do you mind if I get a turn with the lady?" a masculine voice interrupted.
My eyes quickly scanned the newcomer. He was handsome—ridiculously handsome, actually—and something about him was very familiar to me. His black hair was stylishly tousled, framing sharp, striking features, and beneath the expensive, tailored silk shirt hugging his broad chest, it was obvious he was very muscular.
Clinging lightly to his muscular arm was an equally gorgeous girl, her skin impossibly pale and flawless beneath the strobing club lights. Her figure was snugly wrapped in a scandalously tight purple dress, the fabric stretched enticingly over generous curves. Her cleavage was displayed shamelessly by a plunging neckline, creamy swells of full breasts pressing tantalizingly against thin, delicate fabric. Her hair cascaded softly down her shoulders, a startlingly vibrant shade of purple matching her exotic, violet-colored eyes—eyes that currently studied me with intense curiosity and something else I couldn't quite pinpoint.
Wait a fucking second!
Were these two seriously Nightwing and Raven—out of costume, clubbing, and looking like sin incarnate? Holy fuck—who knew Raven had that kind of body hidden beneath all those dreary robes and cloaks she usually wore?
I guess the internet knew…
How the hell had they found me here?
More importantly, why were both of them staring at me like they wanted to devour me alive? Sure, Mazikeen was objectively sexy as fuck, but their gazes were lingering hotly on my barely-clothed body far more openly than they were on hers.
Mazikeen gave the handsome newcomer a mock-jealous glare, her eyes flicking mischievously toward mine before returning to meet his gaze. "...Sure thing, handsome. You can dance with my date," she stated directly before turning her eyes toward Raven next, giving the pale heroine a slow, openly appreciative look that practically stripped her bare right then and there. "But only if I get to dance with yours!"
Raven visibly flushed beneath Mazikeen's teasing, blatantly approving stare. It was obvious Raven wasn't accustomed to this sort of openly sexual attention, yet judging by the heated way her violet eyes darted quickly down Mazikeen's curves in return, she definitely wasn't opposed to it either.
…I quickly found myself dancing with Nightwing—or as he gently requested, "Call me Dick." My lips curled slightly at that.
I guess he was a bit more liberal with his secret identity than Batman was.
Nearby, Mazikeen was grinding sensually against Raven, her hips rolling slow and seductive as the flustered sorceress visibly blushed beneath the club's flashing lights. Raven kept shooting pleading, uncertain glances in our direction, clearly unsure how to handle Maze's assertive advances—but Dick didn't seem to notice her discomfort in the slightest.
He was utterly fixated on me.
"I almost didn't recognize you as a blonde, Amara," he admitted softly, his voice low, eyes roaming appreciatively over my transformed features.
"That's kind of the idea," I pointed out playfully, swaying my hips just a bit closer. I quickly realized he was dancing more respectfully with me than anyone else here—holding himself back, maintaining careful distance between us like he was afraid of crossing some invisible line.
Well, we couldn't have that, now could we?
Smirking softly, I pressed my body intimately against his, wrapping my slender arms around his strong shoulders. My fingers brushed teasingly along the heated skin of his bare arm, deliberately activating my [Lewd Touch] with the faintest pulse of subtle magic. The effect wouldn't overwhelm him immediately, but soon enough he'd feel it—slowly, inexorably growing more aroused with every moment we stayed in contact.
Dick visibly tensed at our closeness, muscles tightening deliciously beneath my fingertips. Attempting to maintain composure, he leaned down slightly, whispering firmly into my ear, "You know, Raven and I found three bodies earlier tonight. Burned pretty badly. That was your handiwork, wasn't it?"
I rolled my eyes in irritation. "So what? Those rapist assholes got exactly what was coming to them," I snapped back heatedly, my voice dripping with contempt. "If I'd been a helpless, normal girl tonight, my night—and maybe my life—could have ended right there in that fucking alley. They even bragged openly about other victims before me. They deserved far worse."
Dick's brow furrowed, conflict flashing momentarily across his handsome face. "That doesn't give you the right to play judge, jury, and executioner," he argued quietly, though I noted the conviction in his tone faltering slightly. He may have been lecturing me, but his words lacked genuine passion or belief.
Interesting.
Glancing downward deliberately, I smirked wickedly at what I found—his cock was already stiffening noticeably beneath the thin fabric of his expensive slacks, rock-hard in response to my subtle, persistent magical caresses.
Dick noticed my gaze instantly, cheeks flushing a faint red beneath the strobe lights. Embarrassed and flustered, he opened his mouth, perhaps to protest further, but I cut him off smoothly.
"What exactly are you hoping to accomplish here, Dick? Do you honestly expect to reform me into some squeaky-clean, virtuous heroine? Inspire some miraculous change of heart?" I scoffed lightly, shaking my head in cold amusement. "You don't have the slightest clue what I've been through. The hatred I carry inside me won't just fade away because some handsome hero tries lecturing me about right and wrong. It will never stop—not until I'm finally strong enough to exact my revenge."
I held his gaze fiercely, unyieldingly, refusing to soften my stance. His eyes darkened slightly, the internal struggle clearly visible as he stared back at me, emotions warring within him—concern, attraction, and something deeper, more primal.
I smiled slowly, pressing my body tighter against his, my breasts pressing softly into his firm chest, our hips aligned intimately. "Face it, Dick," I whispered huskily, tilting my lips toward his ear, my voice low and seductive, "you didn't come here tonight because you honestly thought you could save me. You came because, deep down, you secretly hoped I'd corrupt you instead."
His breathing quickened slightly, eyes darkening with barely restrained desire as he swallowed hard. The heat between our bodies became almost unbearably intense, the throbbing bass of the club's music vibrating through our intimately pressed forms. "Amara…" he murmured quietly, almost pleadingly, yet unable—or unwilling—to pull away from my provocative embrace.
I smiled wickedly, my magic still humming teasingly beneath his skin, steadily eroding his resistance bit by bit…
Morgana would be very proud of me, but before I could continue further, Raven was suddenly in between the two of us. "Time to switch," she said firmly.
…Raven had gotten away from Mazikeen and was now pressed up even closer to me than Dick had been moments earlier. Her delicate hands rested uncertainly on my hips, fingertips gently brushing against my bare thighs beneath the hem of my skimpy dress.
She tilted her face toward mine, those fascinating violet eyes meeting my disguised blue gaze with clear frustration and more than a little jealousy. A faint pout curved her full lips, making her look irresistibly adorable.
"Amara," Raven said softly, the rhythmic beat of the music forcing her to lean closer so that her warm breath tickled gently against my ear. "Dick's emotions are all over the place right now! I can sense them clearly. What exactly did you say or do to him?"
A wicked little smile curled slowly across my lips, and I reached out teasingly, tracing a fingertip along the curve of her smooth jawline. "Sorry, beautiful," I purred seductively into her ear, deliberately brushing my soft lips against her sensitive skin. "That's a secret between Dick and me. You'll have to try harder if you really want to know..."
Raven flushed deeply beneath the club lights, the delicate pink coloring beautifully accentuating her pale skin. Her eyes widened slightly, and I could practically hear her heart rate speeding up, hammering frantically within her chest.
Before she could respond, I shifted the conversation to something more important.
"What exactly are you two even doing here tonight?" I asked playfully, pressing my body just a bit tighter against hers, allowing her to feel the generous swell of my breasts against her own lush curves. "Did you and Dick really come all the way to this dirty, sinful club just for little ol' me?"
She averted her gaze slightly, biting nervously at her plump lower lip—an adorable habit I was quickly starting to appreciate more and more. That nervous gesture combined with the shy, vulnerable look in her violet eyes told me everything I needed to know. She and Dick had specifically hunted me down tonight.
The thought sent a thrill of excitement surging deliciously through me. Two famous heroes had trekked all across Gotham, into this seedy little nightclub…just for me.
Honestly, the attention was making me wetter by the minute.
Raven's eyes finally rose to meet mine again, her expression quickly shifting from embarrassment into something more serious, more concerned. Her grip tightened possessively around my hips, as though she feared letting go might lose me forever. "Amara," she whispered quietly, voice tight with genuine emotion, "you don't have to embrace your demonic side like this. You don't need to give in and commit evil so freely."
My teasing mood faltered for just a moment at her earnest words, the sudden sincerity in her gaze momentarily piercing straight through my playful defenses.
From my [Cursed Knowledge], I knew just how deeply Raven hated and feared her own demonic heritage, how desperately she tried to repress and deny that crucial aspect of herself.
Did her fellow heroes—her teammates—know yet about the dark, dangerous blood that ran through her veins?
Somehow, I doubted it.
Raven carried the weight of her demonic heritage like a hidden, shameful secret, terrified of rejection and disgust from the people closest to her. The thought tugged at my heart, a pang of empathy briefly surfacing amidst my teasing lust.
I reached up gently, cupping Raven's cheek with surprising tenderness, forcing her violet gaze to meet my own. "Just because I embrace my demonic side more openly than you doesn't automatically make me evil, Raven," I explained quietly, my voice soft yet firm beneath the pulsing music. "This world isn't as simple as black and white, good and evil. Repressing and denying who you truly are isn't helpful, it only leads to self-loathing, isolation, and an inevitable explosion later."
Her eyes widened slightly, breath catching audibly in her throat. Clearly, my words had hit closer to home than she'd anticipated. Yet still, her expression remained uncertain, conflicted, torn between fear and desperate longing.
I sighed inwardly, a faintly bitter smile flickering briefly across my lips. I knew exactly how lucky I'd been—saved by the intervention of my mysterious system at just the right moment. Without that divine intervention, who knows how twisted, broken, or even dead I might have ended up?
Not everyone got so fortunate.
Raven clearly struggled to form a reply, emotions warring vividly behind those beautiful violet eyes. I could practically sense her internal turmoil—the painful pull between fear of rejection and the desperate yearning for acceptance, for someone who truly understood.
Deciding to press further, I leaned forward again, brushing my lips gently, teasingly against the shell of her ear. "Tell me honestly, Raven," I murmured softly, my voice a seductive whisper. "Do your teammates—Dick, the other heroes—know yet about what you really are? About your own demon blood?"
She froze abruptly against me, body tensing sharply beneath my fingertips, her breath hitching audibly. Her silence told me everything—no, they didn't know. Raven's secret remained carefully buried beneath layer after layer of fear, shame, and insecurity.
"Exactly," I continued firmly, keeping my voice gentle yet insistent. "You're living in constant fear of exposure and rejection. You're hiding an essential part of yourself out of shame. But trust me—denying yourself, hating yourself—it doesn't work, Raven. Eventually, it will destroy you from within."
Her wide eyes filled suddenly with shimmering tears, glittering softly beneath the club's neon lights. Her lower lip quivered slightly, clearly fighting desperately to maintain her fragile composure. "I...I don't know any other way," she whispered brokenly, vulnerability raw in her voice. "If they find out, they'll fear me. Reject me."
I smiled gently, brushing a stray lock of vibrant violet hair away from her flushed cheek. "Maybe some of them would," I admitted honestly. Real life was different from comics or cartoons after all. "But I can tell you with certainty that I will never reject you for who you are, Raven…" I told her truthfully.
She was one of my favorite heroines after all and we had so much in common!
I think she took my words for something else though, because I saw goosebumps forming on her skin as she shuddered slightly. She tilted her head, her eyes suddenly a bit glassy.
Before either of us could speak further, a familiar, sultry voice interrupted us both. "As absolutely delicious as this sight is," Mazikeen purred teasingly from beside us, "I'd like my date back now…"
I noticed that Raven and Dick both made their way to the back of the club as Mazikeen and I went back to our own fun. I bet they both had a lot to think about.
– Raven –
'That girl is trouble…' Raven thought to herself as she crouched on the rooftop above the Inferno Club.
Who knew succubi were so dangerous? Succubi were usually seen as relatively minor demons—mischievous seductresses more interested in sexual conquest than outright evil. But Amara… the girl radiated raw, dangerous sexuality effortlessly, and Raven found herself helplessly drawn toward her.
She shook her head slightly, embarrassed at how easily Amara had gotten under her skin.
Slipping into her tight, form-fitting costume just minutes earlier had been mortifying—her lace panties had been completely soaked, her pussy shamelessly dripping with arousal. Her pale cheeks flushed crimson again at the memory of hastily wiping away the slickness between her thighs with trembling fingers, praying Nightwing hadn't heard her frustrated whimper through the thin bathroom walls.
Speaking of Nightwing… Raven's blush deepened further as she remembered glancing at Dick when he'd slipped into the men's restroom. Even through his expensive slacks, his erection had been impossible to miss, the outline of his thick cock straining impressively against the fabric.
Clearly, Amara had left them both painfully aroused.
Raven sighed softly, trying to refocus her scattered thoughts. Now that they knew Amara was here, the plan was simple. They'd wait until she left the club, then apprehend her quietly, safely removing her from Morgana's poisonous influence.
Yet Raven still felt uneasy about that other mysterious, demonic woman who had accompanied Amara tonight. The woman hadn't appeared in any criminal database, and Raven didn't recognize her from any demonic archives she'd studied. Whoever that temptress was, Raven fervently hoped the beautiful stranger wouldn't interfere when the time came to subdue Amara. The last thing they needed tonight was a fight against an unknown demoness of clearly formidable strength and confidence.
Raven shuddered slightly, feeling a thrill rush through her at the thought of being close to Amara again, away from Morgana's dark influence—perhaps eventually even becoming heroes together.
Maybe even… something more?
The thought sent a heated flush rippling down her neck and between her thighs once more, forcing Raven to steady her breathing carefully.
She felt Nightwing's presence approach and straighten beside her, his voice oddly hesitant as he murmured, "And now we wait."
He sounded awkward, uncertain—clearly, his own thoughts and emotions were as chaotic as Raven's tonight.
A sinking feeling settled uncomfortably into her chest as Raven wondered if they'd once again fallen for the same woman. Her cheeks burned hotter, painful memories of the disaster with Starfire still fresh in her mind. She sincerely hoped things would turn out differently this time.
Perhaps Raven needed to finally trust Dick with her biggest secret, her true demonic heritage? She'd hidden it for so many years now, fearing his rejection and disgust—but maybe tonight, after this mission, would finally be the right time. After all, she'd trusted Dick more deeply and completely than any other teammate since she'd joined the Titans. He deserved to know the truth.
But before Raven could dwell further on her thoughts, a flash of movement below instantly caught her attention. Her violet eyes widened sharply in alarm as she spotted a gaudy van careening wildly down the street, rapidly approaching the club.
It was painted in garish shades of purple, green, and orange—the Joker's infamous colors—complete with a grotesquely smiling clown-face logo emblazoned prominently across its side.
Nightwing immediately tensed beside her, eyes narrowing darkly as he watched the gaudy vehicle speeding recklessly forward. "Fuck. Are those Joker's men?" he growled quietly, frustration evident in his voice. "Of all the goddamned nights, they have to raid this place now?"
– Amara –
The sounds of explosions and gunfire erupting right outside the club instantly snapped me from my pleasant, alcohol-induced buzz. The pounding music cut out abruptly, replaced by panicked screams and frantic cries as terrified patrons began to scatter like rats.
I turned toward Mazikeen, whose lovely features twisted in irritation, a dangerous scowl darkening her flawless face. "Ugh, I fucking hate when my dates get ruined—especially just when things were starting to get good," she growled, dark eyes narrowed with annoyance as she glanced toward the commotion outside. "And I was going to get lucky tonight too…"
"Oh? And who says I'm the type of girl who puts out on a first date anyway?"
"Trust me, little succubus," she purred huskily, sending a thrilling shiver racing down my spine. "That's still yet to be decided."
My cheeks flushed slightly at her confident promise, and I smiled softly, biting my lower lip as I glanced around us. The club was quickly emptying, the screaming crowd pouring frantically toward the exits, shoving and trampling each other in their desperate panic.
"I should probably get home," I admitted reluctantly, already mourning the abrupt end of our delicious evening. "But tonight was amazing, Maze. I had a lot of fun. It was my first time clubbing…"
Mazikeen's expression softened slightly, disappointment flickering briefly across her gorgeous features before she sighed lightly, nodding in resigned acceptance. "Well, unfortunately, I have to head back to Los Angeles tonight anyway. My boss keeps nagging and calling me incessantly," she muttered irritably, rolling her eyes dramatically. She paused, then met my gaze intently, dark eyes glittering with unmistakable desire. "But you—I definitely want to stay in touch with you, Amara. You're far too much fun to let go of so easily."
Without warning, Mazikeen reached out and firmly wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me possessively close against her body. Her full, sumptuous breasts pressed enticingly against mine through our thin clothes, and before I could protest—not that I fucking would—she leaned down and captured my lips in a fiercely dominant kiss.
I moaned softly into her mouth, surrendering eagerly to her bold claim on me, our tongues sliding sensually together for one heated, perfect moment. Mazikeen finally pulled back, licking her lush lips. "Stay safe, little succubus," she murmured huskily. "And whatever you do—don't let those tiresome heroes corrupt you. Trust me when I say, nothing feels more satisfying than sweet, delicious revenge."
With one last playful smirk, Mazikeen vanished abruptly from my arms, teleporting instantly out of sight, leaving me flushed, breathless, and painfully turned on despite the chaos unfolding all around me.
Deciding it was definitely time to leave, I quickly joined the panicked crowd fleeing toward the back exit. To be extra cautious—just in case anyone was trying to follow or track me—I shifted my hair color from blonde to a dull, unassuming shade of brown, further obscuring my identity in the mass of fleeing bodies.
I glanced briefly toward the front entrance of the club, knowing that Nightwing and Raven were undoubtedly too busy dealing with whoever was stupid enough to start trouble at a place like this.
With a small sigh, I decided to just call it a night and head back home to our secret warehouse. As fun as the evening had been, I'd had enough excitement and chaos for one night.
…I made it back home, quietly stepping through the warehouse door and shutting it firmly behind me. My body still hummed with lingering excitement from my night out clubbing with Mazikeen. God, that woman was sin incarnate, and she'd left me achingly aroused, my panties damp and clinging uncomfortably between my thighs.
As I moved into the main area, my gaze immediately fell on Daphne and Astoria, lounging impatiently on the sofa. Both sisters perked up the second they noticed me enter, sitting straighter as their lovely, matching blue eyes narrowed in accusation. Their expressions clearly said it all.
They weren't happy I'd left them behind.
"Well, look who's finally home," Daphne said softly, trying—and failing—to keep the irritation out of her voice. She uncrossed her shapely legs, rising smoothly to her feet. Her gaze traveled slowly over my barely-there dress and tousled hair, her pout deepening. "Looks like you had quite the eventful evening."
Astoria quickly followed her sister, approaching me with an openly disgruntled expression, her eyes lingering just a little too appreciatively on my scandalously short dress. "Seriously, Amara?" she complained sulkily, her full lips curving into a cute pout. "You just left us behind like that, all dressed up looking amazing, to go out and have fun alone?"
I chuckled softly, shrugging my shoulders as I smirked teasingly at the frustrated sisters. "Sorry, ladies," I purred playfully, running my fingers slowly through my hair and deliberately tousling it further. "But yes, I had a lot of fun tonight. I just wasn't sure if the kind of places I went to would be suitable for proper noble witches like you two."
Daphne's eyebrows rose sharply at that, her icy gaze narrowing slightly. "Excuse me?" she asked pointedly. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"Well," I explained teasingly, "it was a very... explicit nightclub. Loud music, sweaty bodies grinding together, drinking, drugs, and sex practically happening on the dance floor—probably too scandalous and improper for noble ladies."
Daphne blushed prettily, visibly flustered beneath my teasing description, but Astoria merely folded her arms beneath her chest, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Oh please, Amara," Astoria said dismissively, a smirk playing across her lips. "You're noble too, aren't you? You're literally a member of the Black family."
I paused, smile fading slightly as my teasing facade slipped momentarily. "Actually," I admitted quietly, suddenly feeling a small twinge of vulnerability despite myself, "I only found out I was a Black this past year. Before that... my entire childhood was spent in a shitty muggle orphanage, not some fancy ancestral manor."
Both sisters blinked, clearly taken aback by my casual revelation. Daphne opened her mouth as though to speak, but quickly closed it again, clearly unsure how exactly to respond to something like that.
Seeing their shocked expressions, I swiftly brushed away the mood, flashing them a playful wink. "But let's not dwell on depressing shit like that," I said smoothly, running my gaze appreciatively over their elegant evening gowns.
Unfortunately for them, I'd already gotten far too worked up by Mazikeen's teasing tonight, my body practically vibrating with pent-up tension and arousal. I desperately needed release, and tonight, violence seemed a far better outlet than sex.
I gave the girls a wicked grin, nodding toward the basement stairs. "Tell you what, since you missed out on tonight's fun, I'll make it up to you both. Morgana set up some training dummies downstairs earlier today. Let's go down, and I'll teach you both a new dark spell she showed me earlier. I promise it'll blow your minds."
Astoria immediately perked up at the promise of new magic, eyes brightening excitedly as she eagerly took my arm. Daphne still seemed slightly hesitant, clearly hoping for a different kind of "fun," but after a brief pause she sighed softly and nodded in reluctant agreement.
Together, the three of us descended to the dimly-lit basement ritual chamber. Morgana had placed enchanted training dummies in the center, their blank faces gazing silently toward us, awaiting their destruction.
"All right, girls," I said, slipping easily into my role as their dark magic instructor. "Pay close attention to this spell. It's powerful, lethal, and incredibly satisfying when you're pent-up and angry—exactly the way I'm feeling tonight."
Daphne and Astoria both shivered slightly in anticipation, their eager eyes fixed intently on me as I stepped toward the closest dummy. Drawing my newly-crafted wand, I raised it confidently, picturing clearly the incantation Morgana had shown me earlier.
Taking a deep breath, I spoke the dark, forbidden words clearly, confidently. "Corruptio Viscera!"
Instantly, a sickly dark-green bolt of magic erupted violently from the tip of my wand, slamming viciously into the chest of the training dummy. An instant later, the enchantment took effect.
The dummy's fake skin bloated grotesquely, warping outward hideously before erupting in a sickening explosion of simulated blood and viscera, splattering thickly across the ritual chamber walls.
Astoria gasped audibly beside me, eyes wide with shocked awe as she watched the brutal devastation I'd unleashed. Daphne visibly paled, staring at the disgusting, dripping remains now littering the chamber. Both sisters turned toward me, their expressions a mixture of fascination and uncertainty.
It held there a couple seconds before Morgana's magic kicked in and the fake skin and entrails flew back to the dummy, restoring it to normal.
I smirked wickedly, meeting their gazes boldly. "Like I said," I purred darkly, "exactly what a girl needs after a frustrating night." God, that felt fucking incredible. Dark magic always did when I cast it!
Astoria swallowed hard. "Merlin, Amara," she whispered breathlessly. "That was incredible! Please, teach us how to do that!"
Daphne hesitated briefly, but finally nodded determinedly. "I agree…"
I smiled slowly, genuinely pleased by their eagerness and willingness to embrace darker magic. Morgana would be proud of our new coven witches. "All right, then," I said firmly, stepping closer to both sisters. "Wands out, ladies—let's get started. This spell requires a lot of violent imagination to get right. Its not very easy to use that much imagination in combat, but its great for sending a fucking message…"
– Joseph Greengrass –
Joseph Greengrass, patriarch of the distinguished Greengrass family, gripped the parchment letter tightly in his trembling fingers. His eyes narrowed sharply as he scanned the words once again, heart swelling with a potent mixture of fury and pride!
Those damned Powers bastards had dared to attempt to murder his precious daughters! The audacity alone sent a fresh wave of anger boiling through Joseph's veins. But the rage was tempered by immense pride—his Daphne and Astoria had not only survived, but had used their cunning and wits to secure an alliance with the current heiress of the infamous Black family.
Not that he knew they even HAD an heiress—but still!
And, incredibly, they had even met and made an alliance with Morgana le Fay herself!
The legendary dark sorceress—the genuine one—not one of the many impostors who'd attempted to exploit her infamous reputation through the centuries.
Joseph couldn't help but smile slightly at the thought, despite the dark clouds hanging over his head. Such alliances would elevate the Greengrass name beyond anything he'd ever dared hope.
Finally, his family stood poised to ascend in power and prestige beyond imagination! Finally, they might even be able to use Morgana's dark knowledge to be free of the curse plaguing the women of his family.
But then—
His brief moment of satisfaction was shattered by a sudden, deafening bang echoing violently from downstairs. Joseph leaped to his feet, with his wand drawn instinctively, as a terrified, high-pitched scream immediately followed.
He recognized his wife Evelyn's voice instantly—panicked, shrill, filled with raw terror!
"Avada Kedavra!" a cold, pitiless voice shouted from below, chilling Joseph's blood and sending an icy spike of fear straight through his chest.
"No!" Joseph gasped aloud, terror gripping him as he sprinted desperately toward the grand foyer, his robes billowing wildly behind him. Evelyn!
Rounding the corner at breakneck speed, Joseph's panic eased slightly upon seeing Evelyn alive, though visibly shaken. She had fallen to her knees upon the marble floor, eyes wide with shock, staring blankly at the smoking corpse of their faithful house elf sprawled lifelessly before her…
'Thank god it was just the dumb elf,' he thought to himself…
Joseph's relief evaporated instantly into cold dread as he finally registered precisely who had just invaded his home.
Standing arrogantly within his family's ancestral manor was the feared Dark Lord Voldemort himself. Beside him stood his most fanatically loyal followers. The sadistic Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy, who stared toward Joseph with an expression of icy disdain.
"Hello, Joseph," Voldemort said, a cruel smile twisting his thin lips as he stepped confidently forward, casually examining the luxurious décor of the Greengrass foyer as though it bored him. "You haven't been responding to my friend Lucius' recruitment letters, so I decided we'd come in person this time."
Joseph instinctively tightened his grip on his wand, yet knew any resistance would mean instant death. He forced himself to remain calm, despite the terror rapidly building in his chest.
"You see, Joseph," Voldemort continued smoothly, his voice deceptively gentle yet dripping with unmistakable menace, "in this coming war—unlike last time—I have decided no family will remain neutral. YOU MUST CHOOSE A SIDE!" The dark lord's crimson gaze bored piercingly into Joseph's eyes, the unspoken threat crystal clear.
The Greengrass family had always maintained careful neutrality, cautiously navigating dangerous political currents without openly declaring allegiance. But now Voldemort had left him no choice—submit, or face extinction.
Voldemort smiled slightly, almost pleasantly, before casually looking around the richly decorated foyer, his expression shifting into calculated curiosity. "Now then," he murmured thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly as if suddenly recalling an interesting detail. "Where are your supposedly lovely daughters… Daphne and Astoria, wasn't it?"
Joseph felt his blood run cold. The Dark Lord's interest in Daphne and Astoria terrified him even more deeply than the threat of losing neutrality. He silently thanked whatever deity was listening that both of his beloved daughters currently remained safely out of the country.
"My daughters are abroad at the moment, my Lord," Joseph explained carefully, striving to keep his voice steady and submissive. "Traveling with…family friends."
Voldemort's crimson gaze narrowed sharply with clear suspicion and annoyance. He studied Joseph silently for a long, uncomfortable moment, the tension in the room rapidly intensifying to a suffocating degree. Finally, after an agonizingly long pause, Voldemort seemed satisfied enough to continue the conversation—though his displeasure clearly remained.
"A pity," Voldemort murmured softly, though his expression clearly indicated he suspected Joseph was not being entirely truthful. "I have heard such delightful things about your lovely daughters. But no matter—they can pledge loyalty when they return. You will be joining me, Joseph Greengrass. You and your entire family. Or you will face the consequences of defying Lord Voldemort."
Joseph was glad his daughters planned to be gone all summer…
XXX
Name: Amara Black
Age: 19
Race: Succubus-Witch
System Spells, Talents and Magic Powers:
[Ritual Magic: Peak Performance!]You have performed an incredibly dark blood ritual—sacrificing the lives of three mortals to grant yourself the three boons of enhanced strength, enhanced senses, and enhanced recovery.
[Adept Flames!] You can use adept fire magic at will. No incantation needed, only intent. Costs slightly more magic and is slightly less powerful if used without your [Soul-Bound Wand].
[Disciple of Dark Magic!] You can now learn dark magic 100x faster than you can learn light magic!
[Sex Magic: Lewd Touch!] By making direct skin-to-skin contact with another being, you can channel dark mana into their body, gradually increasing their sexual arousal. Prolonged, continuous contact can even drive them to orgasm.
[Penguin Speech!] You can now talk to penguins!
[Metamorphmagus!] You now possess the power to alter your physical traits at will, although doing so will steadily drain your magical reserves. Transformations cannot be held indefinitely without sufficient magic.
[Mana Siphon!] You can now steal mana from people you have sex with. Stolen mana will be stored in a separate magical core within your body and will not dissipate over time. Theoretically, it possesses infinite capacity!
Perks:
[Passionate Teacher!] Your teaching skills are automatically twice as effective, and their effectiveness increases exponentially the less clothing you wear when teaching someone magic!
[Daughter of a Succubus!] Your great-grandmother, or an even more distant ancestor, was secretly a succubus. That demonic bloodline has skipped multiple generations until it has awoken inside of you, granting you enhanced magical power and beauty far beyond what the average human could hope to achieve. Men and women alike will find you nearly irresistible when they gaze upon you.
[Blessed by Fire!] Fire magic is significantly easier for you to learn and master. You can even cast low-tier fire spells instinctively, without needing a wand.
[Soul-Bound Wand!] When you finally acquire your wand, it will be eternally soul-bound to you. Indestructible, and summonable to your hand at any moment!
Drawbacks:
[Major Sin of Lust!] You get aroused far easier than normal and stay aroused far longer. You will find it very hard to sexually satisfy yourself and will almost instinctively find yourself seeking out partners to fulfill your needs.
[Cursed Knowledge!] You have been cursed with the complete knowledge and memories of your past life—and all the existential crisis that comes along with them.
[Simmering Fury!] Your anger now simmers and lingers much longer than it would for anyone else. It becomes extremely difficult—nearly impossible—for you to forgive those who've wronged you.
Inventory:
[Money!] - $15,000 in American Currency. £34 in British Pounds.
[Minor health potion!] - A potion that will refill every three days, able to restore most common wounds. Cannot heal missing limbs, or cure diseases.
[Soul Bound Wand!] - A wand that cannot be destroyed and can be summoned to your hand instantly even if you lose it.
[Basic Handgun x4…] - 10 shots each. Do you really need this?
[Basic Assault Rifle x5…] - 30 shots each. Now you're just hoarding…
[Frag Grenades x6!] - These go boom when you pull the pin!