Demon’s Debt [Sucubuss TG Story] - Part 1

By TheSpiralledEye

A gambler loses his soul in a game of dice. Now, he is forced to moonlight as a sexy succubus for the lord of hell, Astaroth. Slowly, though, he begins to embrace and enjoy his new demonic nature and, despite his best efforts, falls for his demon lord.

~

“They say if you want to survive in life, you have to roll with the punches. Personally, I'd like to know who “they” are and ask ‘em if they've ever gone to Las Vegas. Because when you lived in Vegas, the Vegas I knew back in the 70s, life didn't just throw you a punch now and then, it was a bare-knuckle boxing match twenty-four seven. See, the Strip wasn't like today, where the night ladies carry business cards and families stay at Ceasers Palace. Oh sure, people still get ruined in Vegas, still whittle away their lives at slot machines and lose it all. But it's not like it was back in the day. Back when the mob had its fingers in the pot half the time and the house won even more than usual. 

Back when my story began, things were rougher around the edges and Sin City lived up to its name. My point is what happened to me wasn't all my fault. If I hadn't gone to the bar with Jezebel that night, I could still have ended up royally fucked. Maybe just…less literally.”

~

People often assume guys like me, who made their money gambling in Vegas then spent it in the very same night, must have had some sort of tragic upbringing. The truth was, I had it all: a white picket fence childhood, a hard-working dad, and a loving mother. It was all so twee. But that was the problem: I wanted excitement, danger, and of course, money. And I never was much of a working man. My dad didn’t pass down that gene, I guess. Once I found out I could reliably win at poker, the idea of working a 9-5 job wasn’t even an option anymore. 

Which is how I found myself in the late 70s, sitting at a poker table with the most dynamite looking lady I had ever seen. Flawless skin, ruby red lips and golden locks that tumbled over her shoulders to frame her chest. Jezebel. Have you ever have one of those nights where everything feels like it’s falling into place, like the universe is finally doing you a favor? That’s how I felt when I met Jezebel. 

Game recognises game, so I immediately knew she was no ordinary dame. She proved it one round in when she took the house for everything, I couldn’t even be mad I’d lost my payday. She was that impressive. There was an air about her, something that drew me in, it was only later that I realised there was something more to it than pheromones. I watched with jealousy as she flirted with the rich-looking fella on her right. I didn't stand a chance. But then the night after that, she picked a new mark, and again the night after that. She became a staple on the casino floor, and I looked for her each night when I sat down to earn enough for a room. Yet when she finally spoke to me, I was unprepared. 

“Losing again?” She smiled, leaning in over my shoulders so that I could feel her breasts pressing into my back. “You seem like you could use a good luck charm.”

“I didn't know you’d been watching.”

“I see you almost every night, darling. And I never forget a face.” 

“Well, then you’d know what goes around, comes around. I’ll be back on a winning streak in no time.” 

She leaned in close, smiling coyly and helping herself into my lap right there at the poker table. 

“How about I be your good luck charm, and you buy me a drink if you win?”

That honied voice wormed its way into my ears and straight to my cock, I didn't even look at my cards before I asked the dealer to hit me again. And my luck did turn; with every flick of her hair and smile at the dealer, my luck got better. I won bigger that night than I had in years, and somehow, I didn't even care. All I cared about was getting this gorgeous woman into bed. The whole room seemed to disappear, only she mattered. I barely paid attention to the chips as they poured into my bucket. 

I bought her that promised to drink, then another, and another. Now, I’m not the kind of guy who attracts women like her—never have been. But that night, something about the way she looked at me made me think maybe my luck was changing. We talked, flirted, laughed like we’d known each other for years. All I could focus on was the way her fingers curled into the hairs on the back of my neck. The way her lips came close to mine then inched away. I had no idea how I wasn't rock hard sitting at that bar with her in my lap. 

“You know, you’re pretty good at poker.” She said after a while. “Ever considered a game with higher stakes?”

That question was the beginning of the end for me; I just didn’t know it then. In the years since, I have asked myself what my life would have been like if I had just seen through Jezebel’s scheme. There was no way, of course, she had been curled around her little finger. I wanted to impress her, I got cocky. So, instead of walking away, I said;

“You like high rollers?”

“Oh yes.” 

“Then I’ll do the highest stakes you’ve got if it means we get to keep spending time together.”

She smiled widely, perfect teeth glinting under the fluorescent light. For just a second, I could have sworn they were pointer than usual. 

“I was so hoping you’d say that.” She said, “My boss actually runs a private game where people can bet more than money.”

“Like what?”

“Everything from cars, to houses, almost everything is up for grabs. You can walk in with nothing and walk out a millionaire…or broke.”

The adrenaline junkie in me was already tempted; the high of winning a huge pot was normally what got me through life. Even when I lost big, I didn’t care, because I’d win it all back tomorrow. Or maybe the day after. The fact that Jezebel was making bedroom eyes at me didn’t hurt none either. 

The game was in one of those private clubs downtown, the kind that reeks of cigar smoke and expensive cologne. Dark wood walls, plush red carpets, the kind of place where money whispered instead of shouted. Jezebel wound her arms around mine and hugged me close as we walked in, I felt like I’d already won. Her dress was so thin she practically felt naked against me. I should’ve known right then that something was off. 

“Lucien.” She said, turning from me to the man behind the table. “This is my boss. Astaroth.” Astaroth, this is Lucien, the man I told you about.”

The tall, broad-shouldered dealer looked like he’d just stepped out of a magazine. He was impossibly handsome, but his smile was a bit too wide. The fact that he had a name like Astaroth should have tipped me off; then again, my parents named me Lucien, so who was I to judge? Something about it felt wrong, but I didn’t care. Jezebel sat across from me, watching every move I made, her lips curled in that perfect, teasing smile.

“Jezebel has mentioned you a few times, " the dealer said, his voice so low I swore I felt it rumble through me. “I hope we can have a good game. Let us begin, hm?”

The game started off easily enough. I won a few hands, lost a few. It was nothing major, but the amounts were higher than any table I'd ever played at. But then things started to turn. My chips dwindled. I could feel the sweat beading on the back of my neck. Jezebel didn’t say anything, just watched. Every now and then, she’d give me this little smirk like she knew something I didn’t. Before I knew it, I was down to almost nothing. It was just me, the dealer, and Jezebel.

“Jezebel mentioned you can bet things other than money?” I tried. I’ve got a sweet ride, cherry red. I won it in a raffle only a year ago; it’s practically brand new.”

I was lying just a tad. The old clunker had been cherry red when I picked it up at a dealership on the cheap five years ago. It had since faded. I just had to hope this guy didn't know much about cars. I just needed enough to get me out of the hole, and then maybe I could try again in a few days, provided Jezebel invited me back. 

“I’m not interested in cars.” Astaroth rumbled. “But there are other things of value you have?”

“Oh?”

Jezebel giggled delightedly, and Astaroth silenced her with a single look before leaning in close to me. I could smell his cologne, it smelt of something almost sulphurous, like brimstone. I should’ve walked out right then. I should’ve grabbed my coat, muttered an excuse, and left that damn place behind. But Jezebel was watching me, and I was too far gone. I knew if I backed out now, I’d never get to feel her velvet folds around me. Plus, this guy was clearly some sort of eccentric; it wasn't like he could actually own my soul. 

Oh, how wrong I was. 

“Sure,” I said. “Why not?”

The dealer grinned wider—impossibly wide. And then he dealt the cards. I don’t even remember the hand. It happened too fast. One minute, I thought I had him beat. The next, he laid down his cards, and everything inside me went cold. I’d lost. Again. I turned to Jezebel, expecting... I don’t know what. Maybe sympathy. Maybe her telling me it was all in good fun. But what I saw instead froze my blood.

Her eyes had turned dark pink, her skin velvet red and two large bat-like wings adorned her back. They shifted slightly with her body, stretching and moving in a way that told me it was no costume. 

“What the hell?” I stammered, stumbling back from the table.

The dealer stood, towering over me now, and his features shifted like wax under a flame until a stranger stood before me. He stood tall, easily over six feet, broad-shouldered and muscular. His skin had a faint reddish hue and his hair was black as night, falling just to his shoulders in sleek waves that framed his face—a face so sharp, so perfectly sculpted, it looked like the gods themselves had carved it. His eyes… gods, those eyes. A deep crimson, glowing faintly, like embers that hadn’t yet gone out. They stared at me with an intensity that felt like it could burn right through my soul.

 “You men are always the same. So easy to play.” Jezebel giggled. “You were fun, though.”

Astaroth reached out his fingers closing around my wrist with an iron grip. 

“Your soul belongs to me now,” he growled, his breath hot against my face. “A deal’s a deal.”

I tried to pull away, but it was impossible. I could feel heat and something else leaching from his skin into mine. Infecting me with something demonic. 

“You were never going to win, darling,” Jezebel said, her voice honeyed once more. “Don't feel too bad about it.”

And in that moment,  I knew she was right. I had never stood a chance.

“A-are you going to kill me?” I asked, and Astaroth just laughed. 

“Kill you, what sort of a demon do you think I am?”

“...There are different kinds?”

Jezebel just laughed.

“Was I ever that green, boss?”

“Greener.”

She stuck her tongue out at him playfully before he gave her a slap across the ass that made her moan. The sound was heavenly and sent a shiver down my spine; I’d been hoping to be the one making her moan like that. Astamoth let me go, but that heat at my wrist stayed; it seemed to travel up my body, spreading across my skin, and as it did, things began to change. 

You know how awful puberty is? Having your body slowly change against your will into something that feels strange at the time? It turns out that having that happen over the course of a few minutes instead of a few years is worse. My clothes seemed to melt into the air, leaving me naked and exposed to both Jezebel and Astaroth, who watched with interest. I’d never felt more exposed in my life, but so much was happening I couldn’t shield my dignity from all angles. Not that I had much dignity left at that point. 

My ass stretched out, turning full and peachy, just like Jezebel’s. I pressed my fingers into the soft flesh, shivering when I realised how sensitive it felt, then yelped in shock as my nails sharpened to points. I held my hands up and watched as red polish painted itself over my now sharp nails; my fingers thinned out, and my arms followed. 

The breasts came next, fully and supple, swelling from A cups all the way to E before my very eyes. I groaned as the weight settled on my chest; despite the size, they had some bounce to them that meant no matter how carefully I tried to move, they jiggled. You can’t imagine how it feels to grow a full rack in less than a minute: the skin stretching, the feeling of those breasts swelling beneath your skin, your nipples growing a thousand times more sensitive. Can you blame me for moaning like a five-dollar whore as it happened? The sounds made blood rush to my cheeks in shame, but I just couldn’t help myself. Each one sounded more and more feminine as they went on.

“What are you doing to me?” I groaned. “Oh, why am I growing tits?”

“Because you’re going to work for me to earn back your soul.” Astamoth said, “Just like Jezebel did.”

She leaned into his side and watched my transformation with interest.

“Wonderful work as always, boss.” She cooed. “She’s going to be a hottie.”

My hips were widening by that point, giving me the most outrageous hourglass figure I had ever seen. 

“W-what sort of work could I ahhhh, ahhhh w-what kind of work can I do looking like this?!”

“You’re going to be my new succubus, of course.” 

As if he’d queued it up, which looking back, knowing what I know now, he probably had, my cock began to shrink.

“Ah! No! NO!”

But there was no stopping it. My cock shrank and then began to push back up into my body, leaving a warm wet hole in its wake and a tidal wave of sensations. I can’t really put into words how it feels as a man to lose your manhood. That subtle weight between my legs that had always been there was suddenly gone, replaced with an emptiness that begged to be filled. I swore in that moment I could feel every nerve in my new pussy from the wet outer lips and clit to the rough inner walls. They cried out for something to rub against, even just each other, and my legs squeezed together on instinct.

“Mmmmm…Oh God, what are you doing to me?”

“Just making sure you’re equipped for the job.” Astamoth chuckled. “Nobody likes a succubus with a low sex drive, after all.”

My short hair, streaked with grey, was growing longer and slightly wild. Ringlets and natural waves of copper hair fell around my sloped shoulders and tickled the back of my neck. I knew, without even looking at myself, that I was utterly gorgeous, and the realisation filled me with a mix of horror and an odd sense of delight. 

I waited for a pair of wings to burst from my back, but they never came. I wasn't sure whether to be thankful that I was spared the sensation or upset that I was going through all this and didn't even get the chance to fly like Jezebel presumably could. Finally, the changes came to an end, and I felt myself gasp; my manly body was gone, replaced with that of a red-skinned, gorgeous succubus. Astaroth smiled down at me, and I felt a weight settle around my neck. A thin, yet somehow heavy, metal ring appeared around it. I shivered as I felt something cool settle against my skin and reached down to touch what turned out to be a choker. A small gemstone hung from it and laid against my clavicle. 

“That,” Astaroth said, touching the gem with the tip of his clawed finger. “Is your soul, my dear. Or rather…part of it. The other part…”

He swirled his hand in the air and conjured a strange red mist that formed into a vague outline of my old face before dissipating. 

“Is with me.”

“H-how do I earn it back?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. Succubus were famous for one thing. 

“Why, sex, of course.” Astaroth chuckled. 

“You’ll lure men in,” Jezebel explained huskily, circling me like a shark and laying a gentle hand over my naked shoulder. “Flirt, sense their sin, then fuck it right out of them…”

I shuddered; warmth spread to my new pussy no matter how hard I tried to deny it. 

“The more sinful your mark, the more you gather and the closer you get to reclaiming your soul,” Astaroth concluded. 

Now, maybe it was dumb. Okay, it was definitely dumb, but I couldn’t just take this lying down. I’d had my whole identity taken from me, I had to show a little backbone. So, instead of shrinking back under the gaze of the giant, muscled demon before me, I stuck out my chin and puffed up my chest (it was pretty easy to do since there was so much of it). 

“And what if I run?”

Astaroth threw back his horned head and laughed, it was a deep rumbling sound like thunder that was somehow equally terrifying and… alluring. 

“And go where, little demon?” He asked, “You have half a soul; you can’t control your magic, and well, I think you’ll find being separated from me terribly inconvenient.”

He clicked his fingers and a second later the horns and tail were gone; my skin was suddenly a human olive. I was a normal human woman again. Immediately my mind started to race, my eyes found the door but of course, before I could even think about running Astraoth’s fingers clicked once more, and I was a succubus again.

“A glamour.” He explained. “In time, you’ll learn to do it yourself, but trust me, you won't want to run. If you do, you’ll be a half-soul forever.”

I was never a religious person, but when faced with proof that, at the very least, demons and hell were real, the idea of having half a soul was pretty intimidating. So when Astaroth opened a fiery portal to the underworld and ushered me in; what choice did I have? I stepped through, Astaroth and Jezebel at my heels. I expected fire and brimstone but instead, I stepped into a warm room decorated in red silk and plush pillows. Demons, both male and female, winged and without, turned as we walked in. Astraoth laid his strong hands on my shoulders, and I swear the body heat from them seemed to seep into me, making me shiver.

“Welcome, your new sister.” He grinned. “Something tells me she will be with us for quite some time.”

A few of the other demons looked at me; you’d think being in a room of monsters would be terrifying but after everything I’d just gone through, they just looked…normal. Or maybe that was just because I was one of them now. 

“What’s her name, boss?” Jezebel asked.

Astaroth spun me around and looked me up and down. I was frozen in place by his gaze and he looked close, then smiled. 

“Lucy.”

The word seemed to echo around in my head, then settle over me like a warm, comfortable blanket. It felt right, like the name belonged to me, and I realised, to my shock, that in that moment, I’d forgotten my old name entirely. The shock must have shown on my face because Jezebel sidled up to me as Astaroth let go. She looped her arm through mine and led me over to a cushioned settee. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll remember it when you earn your soul back.” She grinned, “Along with a few other perks.”

She spread her wings out and gave them a flutter.

“I get wings when I get my soul back?”

“Uh-huh. Cool, right?”

“I thought I’d get to be myself again!”

“You can…nobody ever does, though.” Jezebel shrugged. “Why go back to being a silly human when you have so much more as a succubus, the best sex, the best boss, the best body, not to mention the longer lifespan.”

Now, that gave me pause, and Jezebel giggled in delight.

“How old would you say I am, Lucy? Go on, I’m not vain.”

She preened for me, and I looked her up and down, taking in the gorgeous, curvy body in front of me.

“Thirty.”

Jezebel blinked in shock.

“I stopped ageing at twenty-seven.” She pouted. “Either way, you’re off by two hundred years.”

“Two hundred?!”

“Yes, I lost my soul almost two centuries ago when I was a lady of the night who needed a little help. Astaroth took me in, made me one of his demons, and I have been his loyal follower ever since.” 

Other succubi were approaching us now. Hands caressed my shoulders and horns with curiosity.

“Oh, she’s cute.”

“Bet she’ll do well on the surface.”

“We should practise together.”

I’ll be honest, I don’t remember much of that night. I was so overwhelmed with all that had happened. But I do remember one thing; I was determined to prove them all wrong; I vowed then and there to earn back my soul by whatever means necessary. And while doing it, I’d find Astaroth’s weakness so that when the time came and I was a man again, I could make him pay for what he’d done for me, and return my humiliation tenfold.