City of Brotherly Lust?

You finish your research and make travel arrangements. A DSD car takes you to the train station and you board a train to Philadelphia. A trip to the restroom in an empty passenger car finally allows your demoness body some much needed relief. You stroke your aching pussy for most of the trip, eliciting a half a dozen mind blowing orgasms.

Arriving in mid-afternoon, you exit the train station, prepared to hail a cab. You quickly turn around and head back inside. You spy a kiosk that has what need. Moments later you try again, this time sporting sunglasses to shield your eyes from the harsh afternoon sun.

Setting up shop in the DSD field office, you meet your staff, two investigators, Peter McCormick and Emily Lawrence, and a scientific technician, Ellen Strickland. Ellen provides you with environmental reports that have sampled the region for demonic magic. Only a few anomalies pop up until about two months ago. There's a spike in a warehouse in Camden.

"Why hasn't this been checked out?" you ask.

"That's part of Smokewriter Industries," Emily responds. "Its owner sells to demon worshiping cults in the area. It's always popping up on the scans, but nothing ever bears out. It's a low priority target so it takes a couple of weeks to get to it."

"I have a feeling Smokewriter is harboring demons, but he moves them around faster than you check on it," you reply, your DSD training coupled with your demonic instincts for deception and subterfuge are a potent combination. It's easy to fool people who don't really want to know the truth.

"Sun's setting, we'll never get there in time. Let's head there first thing tomorrow," you say. "Send me all the intel you have on Smokewriter. I'll look it over in my hotel tonight."

You leave the office and check in at your hotel. Signing the register, the front desk clerk comments, "Long day, ma'am?"

"It was," you agree. "Do I look that bad?"

"Not at all, your eyes look a little bloodshot though."

Once you in your room, a check in the mirror reveals that your eyes aren't bloodshot, they're just reasserting their normal appearance. Your pupils are narrowing into slits and your irises are turning red.

'Thank Lilith,' you think to yourself. Suddenly an itch begins in your pussy, your tits start to throb and you nipples grow as hard a bullets. Ripping your clothes off you double lock the door on the way to the bed. Your body is hot and you are bathed in sweat. With each beat of your heart, your skin grows more flushed. You grin as your complexion goes from blushing, to sun burnt, to your blessed red hue. Quickly, the finger teasing your clit grows a sharp talon and you stuff it, and three others into your burning cunt. You enjoy watching as you frig yourself, but your view is obstructed by your growing tits. Licking lips that are swelling into cock sucking pillows, you feel your tongue extend and split. A series of grunts and your long, luscious tail has reemerged above your plump, heart shaped ass. Your tail quickly replaces your fingers, and you give yourself the fucking that's been eluding you for days. Once your wings grow from your back, you warp them around your body encasing yourself in an unholy cocoon. You take a moment to craft a spell around your room and then scream in a 10 minute long orgasm that shakes you to the core. Your heart stops once again, and you are a full succubus once again!

Cloaked in invisibility, you step onto the balcony, relishing the cool, night air as it caresses your redemonized body. Hissing, you spread your wings and dive from the ledge. You plummet 30 stories before you arch you back and soar into the sky. Making three quick circles around the William Penn statue atop city hall, you gaze at the statue from the west side and snicker, realizing the the 37 foot tall Quaker looks to be sporting one hell of an erection. Closer inspection reveals that its an illusion created by the scroll he holds in his right hand.

Thoughts of a big cock bring one thought to your mind. a big cock. You really need to get fucked. Smelling sex in the distance, you fly towards the scent. Landing near a club, you find a deserted alley. There, you are able to apply your glamour and allow the invisibility to fade.

Approaching the bouncer, you look ready for a night of clubbing. A micro-miniskirt hugs your ass. Your halter top shows off your tits and bares your abs. Fishnet stockings run down your legs to wicked heels. You enter the club knowing that any man (or woman for that matter) inside could be yours.

Sitting at the bar, you scope out the prospects. An interesting scent fills your nose. There's at least one person in the club (maybe more) who isn't vaccinated against the Lilith Strain. Closing your eyes, you focus on the scent and turn toward it. There! A young, blonde man, blue eyes, light skin.

Eastern Europe was slow to inoculate its citizens, even when those countries got around to it some of the vaccinations were weaker than they should have been. In recent years, with concern about the infection waning, requirements for boosters before entering the U.S. were relaxed. The stars have truly aligned for this young man.

You walk up to him. He smiles at his companions as you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a deep, wet kiss, making sure to rub your body against his in the process. You dance with him for about an hour, not even bothering to learn his name. Finally, you suggest that you take the party elsewhere. He bids his friends goodnight, getting high fives from a few.

You take him to a construction site you noticed near the DSD office and fuck him senseless. Sweet Lilith, having a cock in you feels wonderful, and when he spouts you full of his hot cum you quiver. A few hours later, a virile incubus waits at your feet eager for your command. You fuck him for several more hours until the sun is rising, then tell him to wait for you to return that evening.

You emerge from the construction site, looking, once again, like a dutiful DSD agent and wait in a local coffee shop for the construction workers to arrive. Workers scattering out the building's front door lets you know that your incubus has been discovered. Police arrive. However, you know the drill. They simply secure the building and wait for the DSD SWAT team to report.

You see Peter and Emily pull up in their car and head toward them.

"What's going on?" you ask.

"A worker reported a demon inside," Emily responds, "we're waiting for a team to take him out."

A mental command elicits an angry roar from the incubus within.

"I don't think we have that much time," you say. "He's gonna fly the coop."

Drawing your pistol, you head into the building with Peter and Emily covering you. Reaching the third floor, you confront him.

"Freeze, demon scum," you shout. He looks confused. He can tell who you are, but you ordinary looking glamour doesn't make sense to him. His weak brain can only think of one thing.

"Fresh meat!" he shouts and charges headlong at you. Three shots blast from your gun, taking him once in the head and twice in the chest. Emily does the same, nearly simultaneously with you. Peter froze. Good to know, you think.

"Call in a clean-up team, and have Ellen do a complete analysis on this fucker," you order. "It seems you have something of a demon problem in this city. Let's go check check out that warehouse."