Kat and the Succubus Costume

"You want me to dress up as a what?"

"A succubus -- it'll be great!"

"I think I can guess, but just to be sure -- what exactly does a succubus look like?"

"I'll show you."

A few mouse clicks and keyboard taps later, James eagerly showed his girlfriend what he had in mind. On the monitor screen was a picture from one of his video games that he spent so much time with lately.

Katrina frowned at the image and sighed. "So you want me to dress up as... a slut."

"It's a demon -- I can dress up as a warlock and you can be my demon minion."

"So as well as a slut, I'll also be your slave?"

"Come on, it'll be awesome."

"You want me to go out in public dressed in just my underwear -- a skimpy corset and a thong."

"You can wear your boots with the spike heels, and you can use your whip from the catwoman costume you wore last year. Plus devil horns and bat wings... and a tail. Anyway you'll have a coat to get there, and everyone at the club will be dressed up." He paused. "And you know you'll look awesome -- you can really pull it off."

"There'll be no pulling off of anything... it doesn't look like there'll be much to be pulled off in the first place."

"You know what I mean, Kat. You're gorgeous. You'll look fantastic."

Katrina sighed again. "Okay, fine. But if you want me to dress up like that, you can pay for the bits of costume that I don't have."

James grinned, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Okay! It's going to be great!"

Halloween night arrived and Katrina was dressed up, though she had not lost her reservations. She'd already had two shots of vodka orange for courage, was halfway through her third, and they hadn't even left for the nightclub yet.

She looked over her reflection yet again in the full-length mirror. Thigh-high black boots with four-inch spike heels, check. Slutty black thong with black devil-tail pinned uncomfortably to the back of it, check. "If anyone pulls on that..." Katrina thought. She took another gulp of vodka and decided not to think about it. Slutty black corset, check. It barely covered her midriff and her boobs were bursting out of the top - she wasn't sure if it was tight enough at the back to hold in place properly. Devil horns poked out of her thick, long black hair. Check. Black leather collar and wristbands to complete the sex slave look, check. Plus whip and big black bat wings to finish it all off, check.

She continued to psyche herself up. James was right, if anyone had the looks and figure for this outfit it was her. In her very early twenties, she had the long slim legs and the slim waist of an athlete, and full, firm breasts that were propped up proudly by the corset. At 5'9 she was pretty tall, and tonight with the heels she'd be strutting around at 6'1 and looking down on a lot of people. That helped her confidence. But damn, she was showing a lot of bare flesh. She felt half-naked. She was half-naked. Her reflection's big blue eyes didn't look totally confident, but they might with a few more drinks. She downed the remains of her third vodka, and reapplied her blood red 'Hellbent' lipstick.

"Okay," she called to her boyfriend, "I'm ready."

After wrestling with her wings and coat (she had to remove the former to put on the latter) and taxi cab, they made it to the nightclub. They met up with a couple of James' friends (dressed, as he was, in geeky wizard outfits), whom he left Katrina with to help put her wings back on while he queued to check in their coats.

Near the bar, a trio of twenty-something girls in school uniforms jealously looked her up and down. With their pigtails, miniskirts, and bra-revealing, front-knotted blouses, they looked pretty slutty, but Kat certainly out-did them, and was attracting way more attention. A number of guys were obviously admiring her outfit. One of them -- a short, stocky guy in a sailor uniform -- came up to her.

"Nice costume! So... what are you supposed to be exactly?"

"A succubus," Kat responded.

"A suck-you-puss? You want to suck me, Puss?" The guy laughed loudly and took a swig from his glass of beer. Judging from his breath, it was certainly not his first glass.

Katrina smiled awkwardly but did not respond.

"Well," asked the guy, "do you?" Their was a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. Did he really expect her to do that? She looked around for support from James' friends but they offered none.

"Maybe later," she flirted back at the sailor wearily, "when I've had a lot more to drink."

He grinned broadly at her. "Well, what can I get you to start with?" and waved to the nearest bartender to buy Kat a drink. She let him.

James eventually returned, and Kat's sailor admirer gave her a long wink before moving on. James and his friends didn't look especially comfortable in a crowded club -- Kat guessed they'd be much more content at their computers playing video games -- but she was glad that they'd come out. She'd only been dating James a few months but he'd quickly become less enthusiastic about nightlife and already she'd ended up going out on her own on a few occasions, and getting into a few situations that she'd regretted the following morning.

They had a couple of drinks while enjoying the music and commenting on the costumes (both the impressive and the laughably poor) and acclimatizing to the general buzz. James' friends were especially impressed by his girlfriend's outfit.

"You know," James said to her, "to really look the part you need to wiggle your hips and smack yourself on the ass."

"What? Did I hear you right, 'cause I'm sure you just asked me to start spanking myself in front of all these people."

"Everyone will recognize it as a succubus move -- you just wiggle your hips, stick out your bum and smack it... and gasp a little. I know that you do a really cute gasp."

Katrina looked at James' friends with a skeptical expression.

One guy nodded knowledgeably. "It's true. It's a genuine succubus move."

Obviously seeing that she wasn't convinced, James added, "It's kind of a trademark. It's well-known. That, and admiring your fingernails."

After a little more persuading and a shot of cream liquor, Kat relented, bending over a chair and smacking herself on the ass, as requested. It took a couple more practice tries before James told her that she had the gasp at the right pitch. It also drew a lot of attention from nearby onlookers and soon there was a little crowd clustered around. One guy asked if he could have a turn.

Feeling less than comfortable with the situation, Katrina looked to James for support but instead of asserting himself and taking control of the situation, he backed off and shrugged. He may as well have said "Sure, go right ahead and spank my girlfriend's ass." Which, interpreting his reaction as an invitation, is what they then proceeded to do. As people took turns slapping her, he laughed and smiled with the rest of them.

Kat, taken by surprise, found herself giving in to the humiliating ordeal, still looking at James helplessly, expecting him to intervene. The cheeks both on her face and on her proffered behind quickly reddened in unison. Some of the smacks really stung, and a couple of guys took even more advantage by sliding their lingering fingers briefly between her legs.

Eventually they stopped, and Kat excused herself, hurrying to the bathroom to recover her composure. Seeing herself in the mirror helped her feel better, especially with a chubby Red Riding Hood and an overweight, panda-eyed skeleton to compare herself to and make her feel even more tall and slender.

She rejoined the others, and was about to hiss "I can't believe you let that happen!" at James, but he spoke first.

"I can't believe you let those guys do that."

"What?! What about..."

"You can be a real slut sometimes, Kat. That's why I knew that secretly you'd love to wear an outfit like that."

"I can't believe you're..."

James muttered something else to cut her off, but it was partially drowned out by nearby laughter from a robot-man and someone in a Sarah Palin costume. Had he said "Don't think I don't know?"

"What did you say?"

"What drink d'you want now?" James said.

So the conversation was over. "Vodka and orange," Kat replied.

Another drink helped her to regain her buzz, and she left James and the others to look awkward near the bar while she went off to dance. She quickly began to enjoy herself again and dominated the dance floor, feeling the beat through her alcohol haze and letting the music take her. However, it was pretty crowded and her wings weren't making her many friends among the other nearby dancers.

"Mind what you're doing!" snarled a girl. Kat turned to see that it was one of the trio of schoolgirls. She was pointing at Kat's wings, which had apparently just buffeted her.

"I'm sorry," shrugged Kat, "it was an accident."

"Well be careful! It's way too crowded in here to dance like you're doing, with those huge things on your back."

Katrina shrugged another apology and returned to her dancing. She was trying to be careful, but within a minute, her wings had already collided with other people several more times.

"For fuck's sake!" exclaimed another of the schoolgirls, "are you being a bitch on purpose? You just smacked me in the face!"

"Can't you just take them off, to dance?" another girl suggested.

"Okay, fine," sighed Katrina. "I'll take them off." She made her way off the dance-floor to deposit them under a chair.

"Thank you," said the first girl, though she still looked more venomous than grateful.

Kat squirmed out of the wings, stuffed them under a chair and headed to the bathroom before braving the dance-floor again. Ideally, she needed something extra to help block out the girls' hostility, and looked for James and his friends to get her another drink, but she couldn't find them. She did spot the sailor, though, and she was loosened up enough from her previous drinks to be brazen enough to get him to buy her another one. He pawed at her a bit and tried to put an arm around her, but she shook her head and squirmed free. She kissed one of her fingers teasingly and then put it to his lips, before turning away and heading back to dance.

Without the burden of her wings and the worry that she was going to knock someone over with them, Kat was able to relax and let herself go on the dance floor once again. Her confidence quickly returned as she strutted around, gyrating lithely between admiring cowboys, pirates and mad doctors, and looking down on vampiresses, nurses and jealous schoolgirls.

The tempo picked up, and she added more bounce to her steps, enjoying the attention that she was getting from nearby dancers, and showing off to keep their attention by adding more exuberant moves. She was vaguely aware of more jealous stares from girls whose boyfriends were obviously looking at her way too much. She did another flourish, kick, stamp and twirl... and then her heel broke. She lost her balance and landed flat on her back, sprawled with her legs open. Winded and surprised, she lay in the undignified position for a few moments while people laughed and smirked, before a Roman centurion and a grim reaper reached down to help pull her to her feet.

Katrina limped off to sit down and examine her boots. There was no way the heel could be fixed, at least not tonight. And she couldn't walk around with a broken heel. She felt like crying, especially after her humiliating fall in the center of the floor. Reluctantly, she unbuckled and unzipped her boots, and stepped out of them. Four inches of height boost -- and accompanying confidence boost -- had just been stripped from her. She stuffed them away with the wings and, barefoot, went looking for James. The alcohol didn't help her perception, especially in such a crowded place with the confusion of noise, and she still couldn't find him or his friends. She gave up, realized a song was playing that she liked, and was lured back to dance.

Without the extra four inches of heel, Kat quickly discovered that her tail was dragging on the floor and was vulnerable to being stepped on. A pirate dancing behind her caught it under his boot, and it suddenly tugged her thong halfway down her ass. She was vaguely aware of a cheer from another nearby dancer.

She pulled her underwear back up after her tail was free, only to have it happen again twice within about a minute. Were they doing it on purpose? The cheers from guys nearby as her thong was pulled down suggested that they were.

The fourth time, she thought she felt something rip. She began to squeeze her way through costumed bodies and off the dance-floor to assess the damage. A couple of smirking guys, making no pretense at accident, yanked on her tail again as she passed them and she had to grab at her thong to avoid it being pulled down completely. She felt it stretch and there was another rip, before the tail tore free entirely.

Kat was too humiliated to even look and see who had done it, let alone try and get her tail back, and hurried to the edge of the dance-floor. Feeling behind her, she could tell that she had a big rip in her thong and she was now revealing the top half of her ass-crack to anyone looking. Considering how skimpy it had been to start with, it was now barely covering anything. She rushed to the bar to see if she could get another drink.

James wasn't there, but the three schoolgirls were. One of them turned to Kat.

"So how come you've got a collar like a slave, but you're carrying a whip? That makes no sense. You can't be sub and dom at the same time."

Kat agreed, it didn't make much sense. "I'm supposed to be a slave, but I lost my master somewhere."

"Well how about I be your new Mistress." She nodded to the whip. "I'll take that."

"Okay," shrugged Katrina, handing it over quite willingly.

"That's better. Now to prove your obedience to me, I want you to get on your hands and knees, and kiss my feet."

Kat did sometimes enjoy scenarios in which she was submissive, and had enough booze in her to drown her usual self-consciousness. She complied with hardly any hesitation. James had the money, but she couldn't find him. Maybe if she played along and befriended these girls they'd get her another drink or two, instead.

"Good slave," said the girl as Katrina groveled on the floor before her with her butt in the air, kissing her shoes. The girl got one of her friends to take a couple of pictures.

Kat got back to her feet, and eyed the girl's drinks while they exchanged small talk. They all worked in the same office. Her new Mistress was called Miriam.

"You want a drink, slave?" Miriam asked, noticing Kat's lingering gaze on her glass.

"I'd love one, thanks."

"You mean, yes please Mistress," Miriam corrected her sternly.

"Sorry... yes please... Mistress."

Miriam shook her head with mock displeasure. "When you forget to address me properly, you must be punished. Now get down on your hands and knees."

Kat concealed a sigh, and thought to herself, "here we go again." She went to kiss Miriam's feet again but the girl moved around behind her instead. Katrina realized why, when her own whip stung her across the backside. She winced from several more lashes -- though it wasn't much more than a toy whip, and didn't really do any proper damage except to her dignity. There were flashes as some more pictures were taken, while the crowd at the bar looked on and enjoyed the show.

Miriam bought her the drink and then they went back to dance. The girls seemed a lot more friendly now. Miriam pointed out that her corset looked a little loose (her boobs did feel about to fall out of it) and offered to tighten it for her. Katrina let her, but afterwards, if anything, it felt even looser. The others wandered off again and left Kat drunkenly dancing alone once more, though not for long, as several guys clustered quickly around her.

One guy, in a police uniform, put his hands on her naked flanks to guide her next to him, and she let him.

"I love your costume," said the guy. He was practically drooling over her. "What are you supposed to be?"

Katrina started to reply but she was interrupted by one of his friends. "She's a horny slut!"

They all laughed. Barefoot, dressed in nothing but a loose corset, a ripped thong and a slave collar, with devil horns. Yes, this was her costume now. Horny Slut. She shrugged and nodded resignedly, as they pressed around her, groping at her naked belly, ass and thighs as she danced. The heat rose in her as she enjoyed their hands on her smooth, sweat-slicked skin. It still seemed harmless enough to her and she was comfortable dancing like that, until one moved a hand to maul her naked breast. In her drunken state, she hadn't noticed that her corset had slipped down enough for her tits to pop out. She suddenly panicked, wondering how long had she been dancing like this with her tits out? She untangled herself from the men and fled, pulling up her corset again and holding it there to cover herself.

She found Miriam at the edge of the dance floor and hurriedly explained the problem.

"Here, kneel down on the floor in front of me," said Miriam, "and I'll take care of it for you. A Mistress should make sure her slave looks appropriate."

Kat complied gratefully, and her new friend began to tug at the back of her corset.

After a minute or two of fussing at Kat's back, the girl sighed."This is a mess, back here. I'm going to have to undo it and start all over again." She suddenly got up. "Fuck that, it's no use. I can't be bothered trying to sort it out." She walked off and left Kat there alone, kneeling on the floor. The corset fell off her completely, and Kat stared down in shock, past her naked tits, at where it lay uselessly. Miriam had totally unraveled it.

Kat grabbed it and held it up to her chest again, and ran through the cheering, whooping clubbers to the restroom. Miriam's two friends were there, blocking the door.

"This room is only for ladies," explained one, "not sluts. Sluts go in there, to do what they do best." She gestured to the men's room.

Standing there looking wanton and vulnerable, Kat wasn't sure how the situation could get worse. The voice of the sailor behind her, reminded her how.

"Hey there, Suck-me Puss! You ready, now?"

"She's ready and waiting," assured one of the girls. "Go on and take her."

The stocky guy grabbed Kat around the waist and guided her quickly into the men's toilets, pulling her into an empty cubicle. "Go on then, Pussy," he murmured, "do your thing."

When she just stood there, he pushed down on her shoulders. "Go on, get on your knees and do it, baby."

Kat's knees buckled, and, cheeks burning with shame, she did as she was told. He swung the door shut behind her, unzipped himself and his large, semi-erect cock sprang out. He guided her mouth to it, and she reluctantly opened her mouth to receive him. She began to suck steadily on him, her head guided by his strong hand. His other hand went down to her chest and he pulled her corset down off her so he could knead her naked breasts.

After a few minutes of this, the cubicle door was pushed open behind Kat. "Holy crap!" Shouted a voice, "It's Horny Slut! She's giving blow jobs!"

"Give me a minute," groaned the sailor, "I'm nearly finished." Soon, his cock twitched and he shot his load into Katrina's mouth. She swallowed most of the thick spray of cum and gasped for breath as he stuffed himself back in his pants. "Ahhhh yeah, you filthy slut," he breathed appreciatively. Then stepped past Kat, to the other men waiting there. "She's all yours."

Kat remained where she was, in a drunken daze and stunned at what she'd let herself get into. She realized that there was still cum on her lips. She licked it off and swallowed it. Then she was pulled up to her feet and out of the cubicle. There was a small audience of guys in the toilets who'd apparently watched her kneeling there, giving oral sex.