Saora sighed, panting with the effort as she held her hands to the ground. The runes below her, part of a massive ritual circle she had set in the floor of her bedroom, glowed a faint, pulsating green as she channeled her magic energy into them, trying to stabilize them. Come on!, she thought, willing the energy to move into the runes and power the circle, feeding more magic into the ancient words. Slowly they began to glow a soft, luminescent purple.

Yes, that's it! Just a little more..., she thought with desperation, focusing her will to keep the summon at this high-energy state, trembling with excitement as she felt it move closer and closer to completion.

Sweat marred her brow, and stung in her eyes as the beads dripped down from her forehead. The water droplets clung her hair to her face, and kept her hands slick on the stone beneath her.

This was the fourth try. The first try had resulted in absolute nothing, except a bad burn on her hands and a spell of disorientation that had lasted for half an hour.

The second try had been a little better. She had managed to turn the runes from green to a very faint purple before the energy backlashed on her lack of control, inflicting upon the poor blood elf a curse that wracked her body with painful spikes for several minutes. That had been the most embarassing.

The third try had been a miserable failure: it had never actually happened. She had set up the circle, written the runes, and prepared for everything, only to find that she lacked the soul shard. Finding one had taken the better part of the day - the curse of living far off from everyone else.

But this time..., Saora whispered into her mind, holding her hands more forcefully against the stone as she brought out a stronger current of magic, slowly fatiguing herself in an effort to get the spell right; This time I can do it. I know I can, I feel it!

She grimaced, biting the inside of her cheek as a surge of pain and fatigue coursed through her body, responding to her further increase in magical energy. She was almost at her limit. If she didn't do it now... no. Best not think of that. Casting such thoughts out of her mind, she willed more energy into the circle, watching it be absorbed by the soul shard and change the color of the circle. The purple was growing.

So close..., she thought dazedly, finding her own consciousness beginning to drift off and on at the effort to continue. So close...

She pushed forward, and added more magic to the formula.

The runes flared a bright purple. They then turned black, as the soul shard violently began to tremble, the energies inside of it becoming volatile. She watched in awe and, she had to admit, fear, worried that her summoning had failed. The energies in the small gem continued to grow as a torrent, beating out against their pristine cage. She wondered, dimly, how long it would hold out, as she felt the last of her strength ebb away.

The soul shard shattered in a flash of bright whiteness. It never penetrated the darkness that covered her eyes, nor did it drown out the hollow 'thud' as her body hit the floor.

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Pain.

That was the first realization that told her she was conscious.

It stabbed through her arms, her legs, her back and chest. It pricked at her head, forcing her to instinctively curl into a ball, hoping to make it go away. Of course it did not; it did, however, seem to lessen a bit, for which she was grateful.

Darkness still covered her vision. She wondered why. Dimly, and with a sense of trepidation, she reached out with one her hands, searching. She was desperately afraid that the spell had gone wrong, had sent her to some kind of void-like place, where only pain and nightmares dwelt.

Her breath eased audibly when her hands touched cold, smooth stone.

The realization that there was solid ground beneath her also helped her to realize that it was dark because her eyes were closed; tightly closed, in fact.

Slowly, she forced herself to open them.

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Namirah watched the blood elf with suspense as she saw her stir.

On the floor beneath her, faint etchings of runes could be determined in the stone. A small crack marked the center, where pieces of the soul shard still lay, though most had been destroyed in the release of energy.

The room itself, a quaint and rather luxurious living room, was undamaged. Silken blue curtains hung above the windows, drawn to frame the openings like elegant circles in the walls. Polished wooden furniture was interspersed along the room, most of it bedecked in some kind of gold inlay, like a glossy covering. There was a fun rug of white and blue behind the front door, and a few potted plants lined the tables and shelves, green and healthy despite the cold winter breeze that occasionally found its way in.

It was, in short, a very nice room, and Namirah found her gaze irrevocably drawn to the separate items as, not for the first time, she scanned her new surrounds, wings folding out and in and tail swaying side to side in a pleased sort of motion as the succubus admired all there was to see. For an inexperienced warlock, she sure has an eye for the expensive, she thought, giving the room another glance over. Before she could finish, however, the sound of movement on the floor pulled her eyes back to the blood elf.

She had managed to get herself onto her knees, head down and arms bracing the floor to support her weak frame. Namirah could see the trembling in her body from here. And why not? A ritual carried out in that way was bound to leave a master drained, and she was just a novice. That she had succeeded at all was a miracle worth pride.

The succubus smiled slightly as the warlock tried to get up, showing a strong willpower that few she had ever met could summon.

That must be it, she thought to herself. Well, what do you know...

Perhaps she could have some fun with this.

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Saora groaned as she pushed herself up to her knees, placing her arms on the stone in order to keep her upright. Immediatly she felt the fatigue wash through her body; felt her arms and muscles tremble at the task of holding her weight up. She wanted to slump back to the floor and sleep. It seemed so easy.

Distantly she noticed that the runes had vanished, only small marks in the stone serving to tell anyone they were there.

The significance of that did not escape her. The summoning had failed; the runes had vanished. She was too weak.

Trembling inwardly at this revelation of her own strength, she gritted her teeth, holding back a whimper as she tried to place a foot on the ground. Pain and weariness shot through her leg, and for a moment she seemed to wobble, so ready to fall back to the beginning. However, clenching her hands and hardening her resolve, she maintained her position, and slowly pushed herself up again, shakily placing the other foot on the floor.

Thankfully, it didn't wobble.

So the summoning had failed. So she didn't have the strength to succeed. That didn't mean she could never do it. It just meant that she needed more training first.

And I will get stronger!, she thought determinedly, raising herself to her full height, breathing hard from the effort. I will surpass my current limits! I will succeed! I wi-! She cut off as a sudden female voice broke out a few feet away from her. The voice was soft and informal, but ringed with a sense of wonderment and admiration. It was a voice Saora had never heard before.

"Good job."

She slowly looked up, afraid of what she would see. Afraid, and overjoyed.

In her field of vision, a figure became clear. Sleek curves wrapped the woman, surrounded by a thin frame that practically radiated beauty. Her skin, a delicate shade of pink that covered her all over, seemed to reflect the light of the day, adding to her radiance by giving her a halo that most certainly belonged. Her legs, unlike the rest of her, were not humanoid, but seemed more like goat legs, only not; the closest Saora could compare them too were the legs of draenei, but a little bigger. More fleshed out. But they matched her flicking spade of a tail and great, leathery wings perfectly. And her face...

Long black hair framing two, nearly straight horns and a face that created a tingle in Saora's stomach as she gazed at it. The demoness's lips were purple and full, and pulled back into a slight smirk as the blood elf gazed at her. Her eyes were dark, like a deep well, and looking into them made her want to explore them, to be lost in them. Her ears were sleek and pointed at the ends, adding an extra flavor of exoticness that her demonic parts finished out. She was, in short, an incredible beauty.

That fact was more amazing to Saora than that the spell had actually worked.

Then the woman's lips quirked into a sly smirk, and Saora realized she had been gawking. Blushing furiously, she turned her eyes downcast, and spoke softly. Much to her chagrin, she heard the words come out in stutters, and inwardly berrated herself for it.

"T-thank you..."

This made the succubus laugh, which only added to her inward displeasure.

"You're welcome, master." There was a hint of a smirk at the last word there as well. The warlock gulped slightly at the sound, a reaction that sent her body into a slightly wobbly state and threatened her delicate balance. Afraid she was about to fall, and unsure if she could get herself back up, she began to move her arms about in a frightened act, trying desperately to find something to hold on to.

Damn her for moving the furniture beforehand.

As she felt the first indications of falling backward,s he gasped and began to flail her arms harder and faster, trying to find something, anything, to grab on to. A bad move: the writhing, sporadic motions of her arms only served to ruin her balance further, and it was with a chagrined face that she found herself quickly falling backwards towards the hard, stone floor.

Oh, damn it all..., she inwardly sighed, while bracing for the impact she knew would likely knock her out again.

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She's pretty cute, thought Namirah, as she got her first good look at her new master.

The blood elf's eyes shone a bright, deep blue, giving her the look of a cloudy, dreamy expression, which was strange, since Namirah had never seen a blood elf without green eyes before. Her lips, though not as full as the demoness's, were a lovely shade of red, and the succubus found herself idly wondering what they tasted like as her gaze swept downward.

A purple robe with golden thread covered most of the elf, the temptress was sad to see, but it hugged her form in such a way that her curves were clearly visible, and her thoughts became more and more lust-filled as she gazed at the elf's slender frame and delicate body.

Oh, I could definitely enjoy this..., she found herself thinking with a hint of excitement, her mind momentarily clouding away to darker, more personal things concerning her master.

So it was a surprise to her when a half squeal, half yelp sounded from in front fo her, and her attention snapped back into focus to find her master about to fall, her balance slowly losing itself. Her arms were flailing madly, and directly contributing to her eventual downfall. It didn't seem she had realized that fact yet, as she tried desperately to find something to grab a hold of.

By the time she had begun to fall, Namirah had started to chuckle.

By the time she hit the ground, the succubus had let out a loud burst of laughter.

By the time she realized that the elf was unconscious again, her laughter had faded into a small smile.

She walked slowly over to the woman, admiring her form as it lay on the ground before slowly bending down. She ran her hands delicately over the warlock's sides, almost in an exploratory fashion, before moving them up to her neck and face. Lightly and carefully she traced her fingers along the elf's lips and eyes, her smile growing ever so slightly at each intimate touch to her unconscious companion.

Only after that smile had become a full-on grin did she move her arms down, under the elf, and lift her up with ease.

This is almost too easy, Namirah laughed in her head, before turning and proceeding to try and find a bedroom.

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When Saora awoke, eyes blearily blinking away the fatigue that slightly coated them and urged them to stay closed, she was surprised.

Below her was a bed where she had expected cold, stone floor. The silken sheets, a deep purple, lay nustled up to her neck, covering her quite thoroughly in their warmth. Her body felt light, and slightly ached, but the fatigue was gone. Looking up to the windows, she discovered that bright beams of moonlight filtered through the glass.

She'd slept the day away.

Sitting up, she slowly ran her heads through her hair before pushing them up to the sky, releasing a great yawn that suddenly escaped her. As she did so, the covers slipped from her neck, falling to her waist. Looking down at the motion, she felt her face heat up as she suffered her second shock.

She was naked.

Her hands darted to the blanket, immediatly pulling the covers back up to her neck, as though panicked some teenage boy would walk in and see. Only after a few minutes did she realize the entire idea was ludicrous. She was in her house. Alone. Safe, and secure.

Except she wasn't. Someone had carried her to bed. Someone had removed her clothes. Someone had tended to her. And slowly, as she thought about, the events before she had fallen came back to her. She blushed again, and grimaced.

Did she touch me? What else has she done? And... and where is she now? Those dire thoughts and others raced through her head, while she tried to control them and calm down. Her body was tense, she realized, and she was nervous. She told herself there was no reason to be as she looked to the left and right.

She froze.

To her right, just a few inches from her elbow, the succubus from earlier lounged at ease. One arm lay under her, propping her head up with the palm of her hand as she gazed at Saora with a sly grin.

The blood elf's eyes widened in momentary shock, and she did the only thing she could think of doing in such a situation. Licking her lips hesitantly, she asked allowed in a clammy, shaky voice:

"W-what are you... d-doing here?"

Get a grip on yourself, she told herself sternly, but it was no use. Her body had begun to shiver again. That the succubus had seen her breasts made her blush again, and did nothing to assuage her nerves.

The demon's lips curled back in a slight, knowing smile, and she gave a crystalline laugh as she shifted herself, facing the elf completely now.

"Just observing."

"O-observing? Observing w-wh-...," Saora began, but her voice trailed off as she noticed that the succubus had shifted, and just what she had revealed.

The demoness, just like Saora, was naked. But unlike Saora, who believed in modesty, the succubus was almost flaunting her form, laying in a casual way that at the same time said, "Come get this." Saora felt a heat rushing through her body then that had nothing to do with the blankets. Her eyes seemed glued to the woman's features, and though her mind willed it to stop, her body began to admire her full breasts, round and firm, the nipples hard against the cool night air - or perhaps at the attention she was receiving. Slowly her eyes snaked down to her stomach, and then to her waist, before finally resting on the the demon's womanhood, which she found strangely attractive, and which glistened in the moonlight; she was wet.

Only vaguely was Saora aware that the heat suffusing her body had begun to move to her own sex, and that she was also turned on as she stared at this absolute symbol of perfection.

Before she could more than realize that she was staring, however, the demoness smiled broadly, and moved a little closer - while also giving Saora a better view.

"Do you like what you see?" She crooned softly, her smile already seeming to know the asnwer to the question, and wanted only to hear it. And Saora, for all that she wanted to look away, could not. She dimly wondered if this had something to do with some succubus magic. It wasn't impossible. But she'd also heard stories of all manner of warlocks who fell in love with their succubi and were happy.

Perhaps she had just been alone too long. Living two years from any notable vestige of humanity had definitely taken its toll on her physical needs. She had honed her skills at destruction and illness, but had neglected her famished body's desire for unity. Perhaps she clung to this woman now, turned on more than she ever thought were possible, because of that deep-dwelling need.

Her body was finally having its say.

So all she could do, when confronted with that question, was nod.

The succubus smiled, a playful, sly smile, and moved forward.

"Good."

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Namirah had watched playfully as the elf had awoken, straightened up and yawned, and realized her current situation. The sight of her supple breasts, alone and unrestrained, had induced a fire to course her body, just like it had when she had first undressed her.

She had watched, and smirked, and waited to be noticed. And when she was, she felt that fire again. She felt that need. It was something all succubi had; a desire to be wanted, to be tasted, to be indulged. It had made her bold.

Surprisingly little effort had been needed on her part to induce the nod she sought for. She had prepared a little trickle of magic, ready to alter the will of her master into a more favorable direction. She knew that with more experienced summoners it wouldn't have worked, but the girl was obviously a novice at it, and so figured it would be useful. It hadn't even been necessary, it turned out - the sight of her body was more than enough to seduce the poor girl.

So when she saw that nod, she couldn't help but give a sly smirk at her master and whisper a soft "Good." At the same time, she shifted closer, and slowly drew the blanket back from the elf in a grand gesture. She made it seem dramatic, important; it raised the excitement. Heightened the expectations.

She placed her arms on the girl's shoulders, slowly drawing her to a sitting position. It was easier that way. Casting the elf a reassured smile, the succubus began to openly eye her up and down, making notes of the more delectable parts.

Which is about all of them, now that I get a good look..., she thought with a small inkling of hunger.

Returning her gaze to her master's face, she noticed a glint of worry in those startlingly blue eyes, and smiled what she hoped was a reassuring smile, speaking smoothly and warmly.

"It'll be okay. It's just fooling around. Alright?"

She tilted her head slightly to the side, as if to punctuate the question, waiting for a response. Slowly, the girl nodded.

"Excellent. Now just close your eyes, and i'll lead you through it, okay?"

The elf nodded again, the hesitancy slowly leaving her eyes, and she even managed a slight smile before she closed her eyes, waiting.

Namirah grinned at the sight, giving her one final lookover before moving onto her knees. This could easily go badly, and the extra leverage would definitely help.

She vaguely felt her stomach rumble, though not audibly, and put a hand on it, feeling its emptiness.

Well, it wouldn't be that way for long.

Sorry, dear. You might be expecting some 'fooling around', but i'm in the mood for something completely different..

She gave the girl a final one-over as she thought this, and then smiled, licking her lips before leaning forward. She placed her hands on the elf's sides, holding her in place as she began to open her mouth, expanding it to completely unreal proportions, using her magic to make it much larger than otherwise possible.

Hungry, and unable to wait any longer, she plunged down, slipping her master's head into her mouth, holding down on her arms to keep them from flailing. They never made an attempt to, and Namirah found that odd, but as the first taste of the elf hit her tongue the strangeness of it left her mind. She began to move the wet muscle back and forth along the elf's face, tasting the sleek skin and spreading her saliva across the warlock's face.

An excited moan echoes from her throat as she continued to taste the woman, and soon felt impatience gnawing within her, her stomach hungry for its next meal as it rumbled.

She swallowed, a light motion that gently pushed the girl's head into her mouth as her lips slipped down, encompassing her neck and shoulders. Already her magic had suffused her body, her throat expanding easily to fit the large morsel as it began to slip inside.

Her tongue roamed over the elf's smooth skin, unable to get enough of her delicate, exotic flavor, and she found herself drooling excessively as she imagined taking more.

Moaning again, her belly gave a soft rumble, and she swallowed again, slipping the elf into her gullet up to the collarbone, her lips now sliding over her breasts, her tongue beside itself with the ecstasy of the taste.

Never once did her arms move in protest.

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Saora was not sure what to expect after she closed her eyes. Her body was in conflict with itself; part of it was expecting divine bliss from the demoness, while the other part insisted that something bad was going to happen. Her brain agreed with the latter, but that did little to help her. She, in truth, didn't know what to do or what to feel. And it paralyzed her body, in a way.

When the soft tissue suddenly tousled her hair and rolled down her face, she was at first stunned. The sudden dampness and heat of her surroundings, whatever it was - You know what it is, insisted her brain, but she ignored it - left her shocked. Honestly, it left her terrified.

But strangely, it also left her excited.

As soon as the strange, wet tip began to probe her face, she felt the first edges of pleasure. It wasn't something describable, or normal, but it was a solid buildup, slow at first, of a very good feeling. It was like bliss. And as the probe continued to run along her face, wetting her skin and messing with her hair, she realized that it felt good.

The first moan, a sound that originated strangely above her, made her wonder if it was pleasure for the succubus too. She hoped so.

She tried to move, too, but found that she couldn't still. Her body seemed to have shut down for the moment, unable to take the conflicting emotions. But that was okay. Whatever was happening, it would guide her. And as she felt a sudden, strong tug on her head, and slid up slightly, her face being pushed into a tighter hole, she was sure of it.

Here the airway was much narrower. The walls were squishy and soft, and covered with a fluid that drenched her face, her hair, all of her. It was nice.

She felt that tug again, forcing her in more, and she slipped in easily with it. Dimly she was aware of her throat joining her head in the tight cavern - for her attention was drawn to the probe that now was slipping over and between her breasts excitedly, exploring the smooth skin as if it was the greatest thing in its world. The feelings of pleasure spiked drastically at the act, and she found herself moaning softly, shivering as heat rushed to her sex.

The probe continued in that manner for several minutes, wetting her breasts and tickling him. She reacted more violently with every minute, her body slowly turning back on, forced by pleasure to respond as the good feelings suffused through her being.

She could feel that she was wet; extremely wet. But that sensation was secondary to the probe, which encompassed all of her world. It was her everything, and what it did felt like sheer bliss.

She felt, then, another tug on her head, and sighed softly in disappointment as her body rolled forward, her chest slipping into the tight corridor with the rest of her upper body as the tongue moved down to her stomach, running over the skin.

Still, the pleasure built.

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Namirah was having the time of her life.

The elf went down smoothly as she swallowed again, forcing her breasts down into her enlarged throat as her mouth slipped down and around her stomach. Her tongue immediatly set to work, running over the soft skin and giving her the blessed taste, to which she responded in kind with many long, drawn-out moans.

She wanted it to last.

She wanted to fill her belly.

It was quite a conundrum, and the need to make a decision gave her a reluctant inward sigh every time she swallowed. She did need to feed herself. That wasn't a negotiable thing, but a fact of nature. But why did the elf have to taste just so good?

So she opted for something else, hoping to stave off the feelings of sadness at having to end such a great meal early. She ran her hands up and down her engorged gullet (no longer worried about the arms, as they were pinned down in her mouth), stroking the shape of the woman within and enjoying her shivering.

The shivering. That had been a new thing, only just recent, but already she loved it. It was like a vibrating meal in her throat, massaging her insides most pleasurable. It was even better to know that she was the fuel for the reactions: it gave them a personal feeling.

Running her tongue in circles along her master's belly, she contented to let the shivers build up her own pleasure for a few minutes before she was finally brought to taking another swallow.

It irked her, but it had to be done.

As her mouth closed around the elf's rump, her teeth chewing lightly on the flesh, she felt the first part of the woman slip down into her stomach. Smiling, she began to taste her sweet nectar, getting an incredible feeling of excitement as she did.

That was when the legs started kicking.

A second later, she heard the first scream.

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Saora was panicking.

When she had felt her head push past something and enter a warm, tight chamber, her heart had begun to flutter. Not the good kind of fluttering. And that was all her brain needed to exert its will over her body and accept the truth.

She was being eaten.

It was a harsh truth, to be sure. And one that, during everything before, she had ignored. She had convinced herself that it could not be that; that the demoness had simply taken her to a place of gradual pleasure. Somewhere where all you had to do was relax, and everything would work itself out.

And she had. But not in the way that Saora had deluded herself into believing.

But now, as her head was pressed against the stomach wall, and she felt it rumble in a hungry sort of way, she saw the truth. She forced herself to see it. She couldn't believe it - but she had to.

That was when she released the first scream.

She also started kicking her legs.

Immediatly, the first thing she felt was an involuntary swallow. Perhaps the scream had shocked the succubus, or perhaps her kicking had disturbed her and forced a swallow. Whatever the reason, she was glad when it happened, though it meant that more of his was pushed into the stomach, which seemed to expand as more of her was added in at a steady pace. The tongue was no longer at her sex. It didn't matter; she'd stopped feeling pleasure several minutes ago.

Unfortunately, the swallow had also taken in her hips and part of her lips, and she found that she couldn't move them as furiously. She also felt the tongue begin to slide back over them, running around their sleek curves and tasting them as it had the rest of her.

She screamed again.

The sound was shrill and piercing to her ears, leaving her slightly dazed as it bounced off the stomach and reverberated continuously next to her.

She doubted it was more than a little muffled yell to the succubus.

It didn't seem to faze her this time, at any rate.

She sighed, closing her eyes at the realization that she was well and truly caught now. It was hopeless, she knew, as more of her was forced into the stomach by another swallow. Tears welled up in her eyes at the thought, though there was something peculiar about her situation. But she didn't hav ethe mind to grasp it, or even notice it.

Tears started to trickle from her eyes as she spoke softly, not intending to speak but unable to stop herself anyway.

"I thought we w-were just gonna f-fool around..."

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The words were lost on Namirah as she swallowed again, taking the last portion of the elf into her mouth. She ran her tongue over the feet, not wanting to leave any taste behind, though truth be told she'd already lost interest in her taste, seeing as she had been robbed of the best part.

It still irked her that the sudden scream, coupled with the flailing legs, had made her swallow without intending to. The shock was just too great. And after that, she'd had to settle on the legs. The legs were nice, but she always found the top to be more flavorful.

Still, she couldn't be mad. Taking a final, satisfied swallow, she gave a sigh of relief as her jaw finally closed, returning to normal size. Her throat soon followed, gravity and contractions pushing the rest of the elf into her grumbling belly and completing the meal.

Satisfied that she had been well fed, the succubus gave a slight smile despite what irked her, and placed a hand on her stomach, rubbing the bulge within.

I love new warlocks, she thought contently. They're so naive and fresh...

She giggled at the thought, before finally sitting back down on the bed. She lay on her back, looking up at the ceiling with steadily dropping eyes. One hand she held up to her side. The other continued to rub her full tummy.

After a few minutes of thinking, she decided to address her master before sleeping. Looking up, she grinned at the large bulge in her abdomen, and then spoke, loud enough to be heard.

"Mmmm. You were quite delicious, master."

Her words were met with silence. Apparently, the elf was either ignoring her or unconscious. She didn't mind - she simply continued on.

"It's been a long time since i've been this full. I really enjoyed it."

She giggled, and turned her gaze back up to the ceiling, eyelids drooping. Sleep was dangerously close, the lethargy of a full belly prompting her body to shut down. She felt like indulging it.

Before she did, however, she gave her belly one final, happy rub, closing her eyes and sighing contently.

"Wake me up when you come back."