Ardat, incubus, took a moment to stretch as the brimstone smoke cleared, savoring every little sensation that came with being incarnated in a physical body - the cool air, the sound of his own heartbeat, the little strains of exertion as he experimentally lifted his arms. It had been too long. Far too long. Ardat had existed for eons, but summonings were becoming rarer and rarer. Now, finally, he was free to roam and corrupt the Earth once more.

Well, not free. Not yet. He had been summoned into a magic circle; a ring of symbols and salt that kept him bound to the spot. But that was merely a minor inconvenience. All Ardat needed to do was convince his summoner to lower their guard a little, and he had plenty of experience with that.

He was, after all, a sex demon.

Now that the smoke had almost cleared, he could just about see them. Ardat stroked his goatee, attended to his short, tufted, black hair, and plastered a winning, charismatic smile on his perfectly formed face. He struggled to keep it there when he noticed the expression his summoner was wearing.

Overwhelming frustration and disappointment.

That was a surprise. Ardat had been greeted in many ways - with awe, lust, shock, self-righteous contempt. But who would be disappointed with a sex demon they’d bound to their will and summoned from the bowels of hell itself?

A woman, for one. A goth, for another. The look of utter, icy disdain on her face looked like it was fixed there permanently, accentuated by her jet-black lipstick and thick, immaculate eyeliner. She had long, silky, black hair - plainly dyed - with layers of deep blue visible underneath, and her clothing was all fishnets, lace, and asymmetrical, flowing folds of black cloth. Her look was - in Ardat’s opinion - a little tacky, but she undeniably carried it off well, and her figure was on the softer, rounded, better-endowed side. Aradat certainly liked that. More for him to enjoy.

“Master,” Ardat said, his voice a low purr. He offered a low, theatrical bow. “Might I have the pleasure of your name? All the better to serve you, of course. Although I must confess a slight, ulterior motive. I desire to confirm my suspicion that your name is just as lovely as you are.”

It was a good line, and one that had made many would-be witches blush throughout history. So, Ardat had been hoping for a better response than an angry, disgusted: “Tch.”

He tilted his head, confused. “Excuse me?”

“It’s Lenora,” she said, with an air of clear reluctance. “I guess.”

“Have… I done something to offend you, master?” Ardat asked cautiously.

Lenora groaned and made a gesture like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re an incubus.”

“Of course.” Ardat took a moment to refresh his grin. “I am Ardat of the Second Circle. I am accomplished in pleasures far beyond the average mortal ken - and I am at your disposal, body and soul.”

Lenora simply rolled her eyes. “You don’t get it. I’m a lesbian.”

Ardat’s smile immediately faltered. “Then… if I may ask… why did you-“

“Because you were meant to be a succubus!” the witch exploded. “I wanted to get my mind blown, and I found an old grimoire talking about this ancient sex demon. ‘Ardat of Ur’. A succubus! And now I get… you.”

“Ah,” Ardat said awkwardly. “Well, gender and grammar in ancient proto-Sumerian can be a little tricky.”

Lenora glared daggers at him. “Now what am I supposed to do?”

“Master, I’m sure you know that labels are just words,” Ardat attempted, making his voice a thrilling, husky growl and arching his back to present his bare, sculpted chest to the witch. “Whatever you may consider yourself, why not try allowing me to please you? I’m sure I could find a way to change your feelings. Everyone’s a little flexible, under the right circumstances. Maybe you just haven’t found the right man.”

From the look on her face, he immediately knew he’d chosen the wrong tactic. “Gross,” Lenora spat, even more disgustedly. “Try that again, and I’ll banish you before you can blink.”

“Wait!” Ardat said hurriedly. “Don’t send me back! Not when I… when I have so much to offer you, that is.” He tried to sound simpering and pleasing; maybe she’d like that more. “I could easily help you to summon a demon a little more fitting for your tastes. Now, if you’ll just let me out of this magic circle, I’ll-“

Lenora snorted a laugh. “Nice try. But no. Part of the reason I’m so pissed is that, as you well know, I can’t attempt this ritual again until the next lunar-venusian conjunction. Which is also the reason I can’t afford to send you back to Hell.”

Hearing that gave Ardat the twinge of hope he needed. “Then, surely there must be some service I can perform for you, master,” he purred. “Simply name your heart’s desire, and I will happily provide - for the right price, of course.”

“I don’t think-“ Lenora abruptly broke off, and then started thoughtfully at Ardat. Hope swelled in his demonic chest. “Actually,” she began thoughtfully, “maybe there is something I can do with you.”

“Yes?” Ardat asked, cautiously optimistic.

“I do have you here, even if you’re not quite right,” Lenora mused, pacing across the room. “And I do still have an itch I could do with scratching.”

Ardat let out a filthy laugh. “I’d be more than happy to assist, master,” he purred. “I knew you would prove to be open-minded.”

Lenora threw him a dangerous look, but it faded from her face almost immediately, replaced by a wicked, satisfied smirk. Somehow, that worried Ardat much, much more than her anger.

“Open-minded? No,” Lenora said. “I’m just going to fix you.”

“F-fix?” Ardat’s worry was growing.

“Fix,” Lenora confirmed, grinning. “Succubus, incubus, how different can they really be? Anyway, that whole thing is way too binary to be real. I’m sure it can’t be so hard to turn one into the other.”

“Turn into-“ Ardat let out a nervous, incredulous laugh. “Very funny, master.”

“Oh, I’m not joking.” Lenora’s grin was steadily taking on a crooked, malevolent quality. “I’m a witch. A damn good one. You wouldn’t believe what I can turn people into.”

“That’s not the problem,” Ardat explained, sighing. “Demons aren’t like people. Who we are - our bodies, our personalities, our genders - aren’t, for want of a better word, malleable. They are unchanging; ontologically fixed to specific lingua-symbolic entities - better known by your kind as our ‘true names’.”

It was a little surprising that a witch capable of summoning a demon didn’t know that much, but Ardat wanted to make sure to nip this absurd notion in the bud. He needed to guide Lenora towards something he could truly tempt her with.

“Your true names, huh?” Lenora laughed and reached for an old, leather-bound book resting on a nearby table. “Like, for example… this?”

She flipped it open to a bookmarked page and held it up for Ardat to see. It sent a cold shiver down his spine. His true name was written in the pages.

Most people wouldn’t have recognized it as such, or as a name at all. It wasn’t in words - English words least of all. Instead, it was a complex, intricately-interwoven symbol, expanding to fill an entire page of a huge grimoire with headache-inducing artistic and geometric figures. And yet, it was his name. ‘Ardat’ was the corresponding vocalization, although, from a demon’s perspective, it was crude to the point of ugliness in how little information it truly conveyed. The symbol on the page in Lenora’s book told and defined everything about the incubus, from beginning to end.

Which was very, very bad.

Knowledge was power, both figuratively and literally. It didn’t mean Lenora could pull off the kind of insane transformation she seemed to be set on, but knowing Ardat’s true name meant there was plenty she was capable of. He was going to have to tread extremely carefully.

“Where did you get that?” Ardat hissed.

“It’s from ancient Sumeria,” Lenora answered, throwing him a smug, nasty look. “You see, my ancient proto-Sumerian is actually fucking great. I just misinterpreted one little part of your true name. Don’t worry, it won’t happen again. I had to pay a pretty penny for this grimoire, though. Time to see if it’ll all be worth it.”

“That…” Ardat sighed, exasperated. “You still can’t turn me into… well, into anything! That isn’t how this works. True names might be written in ink, but I can assure you, they’re metaphorically set in stone. There are only a handful of artifacts in existence with the power to change them.”

“C’mon.” Lenora started giggling. “You can’t just set me up like that twice in a row.”

Ardat’s heart sank. “S-surely you don’t-“

This time, she reached for a small, wood-carved box and opened it. Inside was a candle that looked ordinary at first, but when Lenora lit it with a well-used lighter, the wax started to glow with an unnatural, purple phosphorescence.

“An ur-candle,” Ardat whispered reverently.

Fuck.

“Let’s take it for a spin, shall we?” Lenora said. She set the grimoire bearing Ardat’s true name down on the table and lifted the ur-candle menacingly towards it.

“Wait!” Ardat called out in alarm. He’d only heard whispers about what was about to happen, but those alone were enough to terrify him. But he fell silent once Lenora tipped the candle, and allowed a little of its wax to drip onto his true name.

Ardat froze. He could feel something; an unnameable sensation that held him in its grip and made his head feel like it was going to split open. It was as if something was touching his very soul, especially when Lenora picked up an iron stylus and used it like a pen to move the molten wax around on the page. Disconcertingly, the ink underneath it, dried for thousands of years, started to bubble up and move with it. And just like that, his reality was rewritten.

It only took hold slowly, with the first changes beginning after the wax on the grimoire’s pages had already set, but its pace quickened rapidly after Lenora held up the book for Ardat to inspect. His true name, the sigil that was the incubus’s very being, was different now. The changes were slight and subtle, and to most people they would have meant nothing. But to Ardat, it was everything.

Only, that was no longer his name. The sigil now sounded out as something different. It would be-

“Aridat,” Lenora pronounced, in a strong, clear, commanding voice. “Your name is Aridat.”

Aridat’s head sheared, and they shook their head in futile denial. “N-no.”

“Your name is Aridat,” Lenora insisted.

“My name,” Aridat grunted through gritted teeth, straining to hold on to at least this, to at least the word, “is Ard… Ar… Ari…”

“Your name,” Lenora repeated patiently, “is Aridat.”

“My name is Ari… dat,” Aridat found themself agreeing, a pained look on their face. “No, it’s… my name is Aridat… Ard… Aridat.”

The new sound was such a small thing, like a breath, and that made it so poisonously easy for it to slip in between the consonants, making its presence felt only in how much softer their name suddenly sounded as it left the incubus’s lips.

“Aridat,” Lenora nodded. The grin on her face was now one of lurid, sadistic fascination. “Good.”

“My name is… Aridat?” Aridat was losing their conviction. It was hard to remain defiant when reality itself had turned against them. They could feel an immense pull toward acceptance like a lead weight on their shoulders.

“Aridat,” Lenora repeated again. The witch tilted her head, amused. “You’re even starting to look like an Aridat.”

Her comment drew attention to something Aridat had been trying to convince themself wasn’t real: the way their body suddenly seemed just as molten and pliable as the wax of the ur-candle, ready to be changed, reshaped, remolded. The sensation was almost imperciptible, though. So subtle it was almost like nothing was changing at all. Aridat had to force themself to truly notice what was happening to them. Their face was softening and rounding out, and their goatee fell from their face in wisps as it disintegrated into nothing. Aridat’s hair had grown inches in seconds, and their body lost its overbearingly masculine silhouette as their shoulders narrowed and their hips widened. They even became shorter.

Ardat had been manly. Strong. A straight woman’s fantasy brought to life. Aridat, it turned out, was androgynous. Even elfin.

It just went with the name, somehow.

“My name… is Aridat,” they said slowly. This time, Aridat’s voice was heavy with acceptance. It felt good to embrace it, just like it felt good to breathe after forcing yourself to stay underwater.

Their name was Aridat. It just was. And they were a them, apparently.

“Fuck,” Lenora breathed. “That was so hot.”

Aridat, still recovering from having their identity rewritten on a spiritual level, was shaking with rage. Reality had changed but, crucially, history hadn’t. They still remembered what they’d lost. They’d been Ardat. They’d been manly and strong. Now, just looking down at their body was accompanied by a hot lick of bitter humiliation. And it was all because of this accursed witch. If not for the magic circle marked on the ground, Aridat would have had their hands around her throat.

“Aridat,” Lenora said, “how do you feel?”

The worst part, the very worst, was the way their new name being called felt. It made their ears prick up and instinctively caught their attention. Aridat was their name now, and like it or not, they answered to it.

“I… feel…” Aridat replied slowly. How did they feel? It was impossible to say. Their head was a swirling mass of contradictions. Memories that didn’t match reality. Old instincts that didn’t match their new personality, which seemed somehow more passive. More pliant. “I… don’t know.”

“That makes sense.” Lenora nodded thoughtfully. “It looked wild. I’m sure feeling it is even crazier, even though I was trying not to scramble you too badly. Although…” She looked Aridat up and down pointedly. “Maybe I wasn’t ambitious enough.”

Hearing that made Aridat’s blood run cold. “W-what?”

“Don’t get me wrong!” Lenora held up her hands in mock sincerity. “You look great, really. Normally I wouldn’t be so picky. I can roll with androgynous. But tonight I was really looking for something more on the ‘succubus’ end of the spectrum.”

“Fuck you,” Aridat hissed.

“I’m sorry!” Lenora’s grin was already breaking through her face. “This isn’t an exact science, you know. But now that I’ve tested it out, I think it’s safe to say that we can push this just a little bit further.”

“Wait!” Aridat begged as she lifted up the ur-candle again. They couldn’t let her change them any further. This was bad enough, but at least their old identity, their old name, was still within sight. “Stop, you can’t-“

Lenora ignored them, and tipped more enchanted wax onto their true name.

Aridat immediately felt it again; that terrifying sense of displacement as their true name began to flow like fresh ink. It was ice-cold and shockingly intimate, and made them uncomfortable aware of all the ways they were being changed. It made them feel thin; so thin that they’d fold like paper under their own weight.

The sensation doubled when Lenora took her pen to the molten wax. This time she was more daring and less careful, streaking the wax and ink across the page in huge strokes. Aridat felt each one in their soul, even as they felt that name, newly-given, already beginning to slip away.

Once she was done, Lenora looked up. She was clearly proud of her penmanship, and looked at the incubus thoughtfully.

“Your name,” she said, in that slow, deliberate way, “is Aridata.”

Aridata’s heart skipped a beat. “C-c’mon,” she whined. “It’s n-not.”

“Your name,” Lenora said again, more firmly, “is Aridata.”

As futile as it might have been, Aridata couldn’t help but try to fight it. “My name,” she struggled. “Is… Ar… Aridat.”

Even that, though, was surrender, and they both knew it. Aridata still remembered the name ‘Ardat’, but she couldn’t bring herself to claim it. Not anymore. It wouldn’t feel right. She wouldn’t sound sure enough. But hearing her insist she was ‘Aridat’ now brought a maddening smile to Lenora’s face and made the demon feel weak.

And the way it came out of her mouth was just as bad. ‘Aridat’, but with a new openness at the end; a hint, a wisp, a breath of something yet to be sounded out.

“Your name is Aridata,” Lenora insisted simply.

Her words rippled over Aridata, making her shiver with their rhythm. “My name is Ari… Aridat… a… Ari…”

She was on the brink. Both of them knew it.

“Your name is Aridata.”

“My name… my name is… A-Aridata.”

As before, it was an incredible relief to say it. Aridata. That was her name. A-ri-da-ta. It sounded so different now. So light. That treasonous little ‘a’ appended to it, a whole syllable of femininity, opened up the entire name, making the harder consonants before it a mere prelude.

Aridata. It was a girl’s name.

Aridata knew what that must mean. She reached up and touched her face, and found it different. It was her face, and it wasn’t. It wasn’t changing; an old, defunct reality was simply washing away, revealing a newer reality that might always have been there. Aridata’s face was softer now. Less angular. She had wider eyes, petite brows, and a far less pronounced jawline. But that was absolutely nothing compared to what was happening to the rest of her body. Suddenly, Aridata had wide hips and curved thighs and, most distractingly of all, the distinct swell of breasts on her chest.

“Wow,” Lenora commented, wolf-whistling. “Now that’s more like it.”

“Fuck. You!” Aridata spat, and was shocked at how girlish her voice sounded. She couldn’t manage the same level of vitriol and spite as she had earlier.

“Maybe, soon.” Lenora giggled. “You know, that outfit suits you much better now.”

Aridata looked down at herself and almost choked. She was wearing the same clothing as before - black, tight-fitting, leather pants, and nothing else - but with her appearance it felt very different. She had gone from suave seducer to something much more butch, or perhaps tomboyish. Her hair, now mid-length, fit with that too. The whole thing felt like a pointed mockery, and that should have made Aridata violently angry.

Instead, it made her blush.

It was something about her chest. Having breasts, even small ones, made being topless feel very, very different. It made Aridata feel exposed; she was suddenly conscious of the air on her skin, and even more conscious of Lenora’s gaze on her body. Everything about it was undignified. Even succubi preferred tempting, alluring, suggestive clothes to simply going topless! Instinctively, Aridata moved to cover herself and started looking around for a stray item of clothing she could use. Only the look of mirth in Lenora’s eyes stopped her.

What was she doing? Aridata wasn’t some kind of blushing maiden. She was… a man? That didn’t sound right, even in her own head. But she knew she had to try and keep hold of that version of reality.

“What’s the matter?” Lenora teased. “You weren’t shy like this before. Isn’t that interesting?”

“Hey!” Aridata huffed. “That’s not-“

She broke off. She’d huffed. Since when did she huff? That wasn’t like her at all. Except it was now. Even her mannerisms were suspect. The things Lenora could do with her candle and Aridata’s true name went far beyond the superficial. Her mannerisms, her personality, her memories - all of them could be rewritten with no more than a stroke of a pen.

“Don’t worry,” Lenora said mockingly. “I enjoy you being more ladylike.”

“I’m. Not.” Aridata had to fight to keep her voice deep and even. “I-I’m a man.”

Lenora just looked at him pityingly. They both knew how false it sounded. Aridata’s voice was too high, too light, and the inner convictions of her nature were telling her otherwise, robbing her words of their conviction.

“Uh-huh,” Lenora replied, deadpan. “And who’s gonna believe that?”

“I…” Aridata spluttered. “I…”

“Then again,” Lenora added, making no attempt to hide her mockery. “Maybe you have a point. This look is good, but it’s not really what I was after. It’s more ‘female incubus’ than ‘succubus’, if that makes any sense.”

Aridata’s blood ran cold yet again as she realized what Lenora was hinting at. “N-no, wait!”

She wasn’t expecting Lenora to tilt her head and look thoughtfully at her. “OK. I’m waiting.”

“I…”

Aridata found herself speechless. She doubted anything she might say could dissuade Lenora, but there was too much at stake not to try. However, she wasn’t going to beg. She wasn’t. Aridata - Ardat, Ardat, she reminded herself - never begged. She tempted, she offered, she bargained, but she never begged. That just wasn’t how this was supposed to go. So… what could she offer? There was only one answer, however stomach-churning and humiliating.

The former incubus did her best to strike an alluring pose that showed off all her feminine assets. It came to her worryingly naturally, and she was effortlessly able to bend forward, back arched, chest pushed out, hips swaying, and put something approaching a suggestive half-smile on her face.

“I…” Aridata said falteringly. “I could… please you. Like this.”

She just had to hope that would be enough for her lesbian captor. Perhaps it almost was. Lenora had the look of someone flipping a mental coin. Once she made her mind, though, her eyes glinted wickedly, and Aridata knew she’d lost.

“Close,” Lenora conceded. “But I think we can do better.”

Before Aridata could argue, she once again tipped the ur-candle’s wax onto Aridata’s true name.

This time, Lenora didn’t even wait for the wax to settle and congeal before she started speaking. There was eagerness in her eyes, put there by unquestionable arousal.

“Your name,” Lenora announced, “is Aridatya.”

As she spoke she made it so, using her stylus to draw the wax across the grimoire’s page in big, thick strokes, obliterating the reality Aridatya had only just been growing accustomed to and replacing it with another.

“It is not!” Aridatya tried to insist. “My name is… is Ar… Ari… um... Arida…”

It was getting harder and harder to fight it. Her head was a swirling morass of different names, all of them so similar, all of which felt right and all of which felt wrong. But a new one had just appeared, echoing like a gong, sounding more and more right with each passing moment.

“Your name is Aridatya,” Lenora repeated. She sounded so firm, so sure, whilst Aridatya wasn’t sure about anything.

“My name is… Aridatya?” it came out like a question, and so Lenora nodded in agreement.

“Your name is Aridatya.”

Aridatya found herself nodding too. “My name is A-Aridatya.”

She just couldn’t bring herself to say anything else.

“That’s right.” Lenora’s stylus was still moving across the page, etching details in ink and wax, inscribing all the details of Aridatya’s soul.

“Aridatya…” Aridatya said it slowly, testing how the name felt on her tongue. Her name had become so long, so luxurious. That little ‘y’ made it sound even more feminine, and somehow fancy. Perhaps even exotic.

And… that was her, wasn’t it? It seemed to suit her perfectly, even though she would have struggled to say why. Did that mean she was exotic? Fancy? Feminine?

No. No, of course not. Ardat had never been those things, and that should have settled the question. But it didn’t. Ardat wasn’t real. Not anymore. There was just Aridatya.

Aridatya balled her hands into fists and scolded herself. She couldn’t let herself think that way. She was an incubus. A man, as remote as that now seemed. She had to remember that. She had to remember that none of this was right. She had to.

“It’s quite a name,” Lenora remarked, finishing her handiwork with a flourish. “Aridatya. I think Aridatya is very, very confident in her femininity. Don’t you? Aridatya sounds like a real girly girl to me. The kind of succubus who really revels in it.” Her smirk turned crooked once more. “At least, that’s how it looks in my handwriting.”

“W-what?” Aridatya was stunned as she felt changes washing over her. Nothing was more unsettling than feeling her reality alter. The changes themselves kept slipping beneath her notice; rather than experiencing the transformation directly, it was like she was always noticing the way reality had always been.

In this case, that meant noticing that her hair was longer, and that she was now wearing something different - a long, flowing nightgown, tailored to accentuate a body that was far, far more feminine than she remembered. Those were Aridatya clothes, apparently. It meant noticing that her face was slender and lips full, and her eyes adorned with smoky, sultry makeup. But more than that, it meant noticing how she felt.

It meant noticing that she liked it.

“No!” Aridatya cried out, desperate to give voice to her disgust before it fled. “That’s not right! I hate this.”

“You do?” Lenora feigned surprise, but couldn’t hide her amusement. “But you’re so pretty now.”

The heat, the warm glow of praise that Aridatya immediately felt, was dangerous. Preening was instinctive, as was posing pleasingly and shifting her weight from side to side to accentuate her hips. It took precious seconds for Aridatya to catch herself and plaster a scowl over the thin, devilish smile that had come naturally to her face.

“S-shut up,” Aridatya snarled, torn between forced resentment and reflexive pride.

“C’mon,” Lenora wheedled. “Aren’t you everything a succubus is supposed to be?”

That was a potent compliment, poisonous and sinister in how affirming it was. A succubus was supposed to be beautiful, feminine and seductive, and Aridatya felt like all of those things. So it was undeniable, wasn’t it? She was everything a succubus was supposed to be. The only thing telling her was the faint memory of deeply-buried false reality, fading by the moment.

“I’m an incubus,” Aridatya tried to insist. “Not a succubus. An incubus!”

“Aridatya,” Lenora said pityingly, “do you think anyone seeing you now, anyone at all, would believe that?”

The succubus’s cheeks turned crimson. She looked away and cast about for anything she could use as ammunition. There was precious little left, but Aridatya’s thoughts quickly turned to what was between her legs. It had always been the very pride of her manhood.

“Oh, I see.” Lenora giggled. “You’re thinking about that, are you?”

Now, Aridatya paled. Had it been that obvious?

“I was thinking of letting you keep it, you know,” Lenora remarked, lifting the ur-candle again. “But if you’re going to be difficult about it…”

Aridatya truly turned as white as a sheet as she watched one single drop of wax fall onto the page.

Compared to before, it was nothing. Lenora was careful and subtle with her stylus, too. All in all, the change she made didn’t even amount to a single letter. It was an accent at most; a simple change in pronunciation, barely audible. Aridatya was still Aridatya. But it was enough, and after several horrid moments of anticipation, the succubus felt a new reality wash over her.

And it brought with it a cunt between her legs.

Aridatya gasped and whimpered at the sudden, aching loss which drove home just how much dignity and power she’d lost. Her name, her face - those things were precious, yes, but losing a part of her body that was so symbolic and fundamental for an incubus was even more of a violation. With her hips and thighs still shifting to accommodate her new anatomy, Aridatya squeezed her legs together, hoping to feel something solid between them. Instead, she just felt a sharp, shock of pleasure race up her spine from the unfamiliar stimulation to her new, sensitive pussy.

It was humiliating, and worse, the demon couldn’t suppress a low whine of pleasure. Lenora, of course, just laughed at her plight.

“My, my,” the witch commented. “Enjoying yourself already?”

“Shut up!” Aridatya huffed. She was incandescent with shame and rage, and she couldn’t do anything about it. She couldn’t hide. Couldn’t flee. Couldn’t stop what was happening to her.

“C’mon,” Lenora giggled mockingly. “Don’t you kind of like it?”

Aridatya had to look away because the truth was that, on some level, she did. Somehow, having a cunt instead of a cock just felt right. It made her feel more like herself, perversely; desirable and sexy in all the right ways for a succubus like her. Knowing that she’d been an incubus minutes ago and had a dick seconds ago didn’t help. It made her seethe with rage and burn with humiliation, yes, but it didn’t make having this body feel any less deliciously affirming.

So, instead, the contrasting emotions inside Aridatya - new and old - were forced to curdle and mix together as reality fought for a stable configuration. They became complimentary, mutually-reinforcing. Her humiliation became a pleasure all of its own, sinful and tempting, spiking her arousal even higher. Her anger, directed so singularly at Lenora, twisted and became a very different kind of craving, one that was predatory and carnal.

A succubus’s hunger.

It was a heady, dizzying cocktail of feelings to be struck with, and it made keeping Aridatya’s identity straight harder than ever. Instinct was taking over. It infested her body language, making her pose and preen and smile, directing all of her hellishly tempting appeal straight at Lenora. The witch was clearly amused and enticed in equal measure.

“Wow,” she remarked, cocking an eyebrow. “Maybe that was the magic ticket. Feeling a little more agreeable now?”

“Absolutely,” Aridatya replied, her voice a vicious purr. She was desperate. She couldn’t let this go any further. She needed Lenora to let down her guard.

“Fascinating,” Lenora breathed. For a moment, occult curiosity took over, although the color in her cheeks made it clear her interest was far more than just academic. “I suppose it is the lynchpin of the succubus/incubus distinction - in some schema, at least - so it makes sense it would have rather dramatic ripples.”

“Dramatic,” Aridatya echoed pleasingly. She bent forward, showing off her new assets. Her tits had become impressively large and pert, and it was dawning on her that she could use that. That she knew how to use that. “Hey, so how about that itch you needed scratching?”

“Yeah?” Lenora couldn’t help but stare, Aridatya noticed with pleasure. “You’re interested.”

“Oh, I just can’t wait to sink my teeth into you,” Aridatya cooed. She giggled. “Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

The plan, of course, was to seduce her, and then, once she released Aridatya from the magical circle, subdue her and force her to undo all the changes she’d made. At least, that was what Aridatya was telling herself. In truth, it was rationalization as much as anything else. Beneath it all was a simple, heartbeat-drum of need and desire, driving her towards Lenora’s warmth. 

"Wow,” Lenora breathed. She wasn’t so quick-witted now. Aridatya could tell she was succumbing to her own desires, now that her summoned demon was in a form far, far more agreeable to her tastes. “But… sink your teeth into me? That sounds a little…”

“C’mon.” Aridatya tried to affect a high-pitched, feminine voice. It came effortlessly, and she was as dismayed at that as she was pleased with her success. “You can trust me. I just want what you made me want.”

Lenora almost went for it. Almost. But in the end, she pulled back and shook her head. “I wish. This version of you is pretty great, if I do say so myself. But… I can tell this isn’t going to be a good idea.”

“N-no.” Aridatya’s smile faltered.

“Perhaps I’ve been going about this the wrong way,” Lenora mused. “It’s not enough to make you a succubus. Not anymore. You’ll still remember what I did, at least a little, and you’ll still want revenge. I need to address that.”

“My… memories?” Aridatya was aghast. How could she fight that?

But Lenora shook her head. “No. Something deeper: your past.” She lifted the ur-candle and toyed with it in her hand, an egomaniacal smile playing across her face. “A true name is such a potent thing. It contains everything about you. Even your very history. Change that, and there’s nothing to remember.”

“Wait!” Aridatya called out, as Lenora started to tip the candle, but she already knew that wouldn’t stop her. Her next word tasted like bitter tears. “P-please!”

She didn’t beg. For all that had changed, that remained true. But this was her limit. This was the end. And so, Aridatya begged.

It didn’t matter.

This time, the way Lenora altered her true name was anything but subtle, even if it was artful. Using her stylus, she worked wax and ink all over the grimoire’s page, inscribing a fresh pattern that seemed to make the entire sigil shift into a bold new configuration.

“And,” Lenora murmured as she worked. “Why not push a few other things a little further, too?”

The sight made the succubus’s head throb, especially when Lenora looked up at her and said:

“Your name is Arideniya.”

“My name is… is Arideniya.”

This time, Aridenya didn’t bother to fight it. She just let her new reality wash over her, and accepted whatever her new self turned out to be.

It felt good, as it turned out. Arideniya couldn’t even perceive the changes as they occurred. Each one etched itself into her memory and her past, as if things had always been that way. Aridenya was left completely, blissfully ignorant of the fact that once, maybe, for a different version of herself, things had been very, very different.

Her tits had always been this huge. Her cunt had always dripped enticing wetness down her thighs when she was turned on and hungry. She’d always been a succubus, a woman, an embodiment of female sexuality, ready to feast on any mortal who came within reach. And when they were around her, they wanted to be feasted on so very, very much.

Arideniya didn’t just feel feminine. She felt powerful, and she took to her power like it was second nature. She stood tall, practically filling the room from floor to ceiling. Her horns were a crown upon her head, and her clothing was royal robes, no less revealing and suggestive for their grandeur. As the wax dried, Arideniya looked down at Lenora like a queen looking down at someone presenting themselves as tribute.

“Master,” the succubus purred, her tone anything but submissive. “Allow me to show you true pleasure.”

Lenora started to sweat from sheer temptation. Her magic circle offered scant protection against the raw, mind-bending power of Arideniya’s presence. She was overwhelming in every sense. She was any mortal’s fantasy given form, and Lenora was far from immune.

“W-what,” the witch struggled to say. She was drooling, but her mouth sounded painfully dry. “This isn’t… I didn’t mean to…”

“Oh, yes, you did,” Arideniya countered. “This is exactly what you wanted. Exactly what you summoned. I’m all your handiwork, Master. It’s time to enjoy me. Time to take down this silly little circle.”

Lenora twitched abruptly, like she was struggling not to obey. Temptation was overriding her reason. Arideniya’s wicked grin widened. She had no particular animosity towards this mortal - but she needed to feed, and she liked to drink deep.

“I don’t u-understand how…” Lenora stuttered, flustered. She took a single step towards Arideniya, taking her perilously close to the magical circle’s boundary, before something seemed to click in her head. “Oh. Oh! I know what I did wrong.”

She stepped back, and hefted the objects in her hand - a leather-bound grimoire and a strange-looking candle. Arideniya’s eyes flew wide as she noticed it. The object seemed to trigger a memory from another life.

“Is that a-“ was all she managed to say before Lenora once again tipped the candle wax all over the grimoire.

This time, Lenora wasn’t artful or sparing. She poured as much wax as she could, obliterating almost all of the succubus’s true name in a single gesture. The succubus was rooted to the spot as a strange, unearthly sensation swept through her, making her mind flash white and robbing her of all sense of self and purpose. The sensation only grew stronger when Lenora started writing with her stylus in wax and ink, replacing some of what had been blotted out and altering what remained.

“It was obvious, really,” Lenora murmured as she worked. “I was too focused on what I wanted to change. Lost sight of the big picture. I was adding, each and every time. More letters, more sounds, more changes stacked on top of changes. I made a name that was impressive. Magnificent. Powerful.” She grinned. “But I think this will do the job just fine instead.”

The succubus standing before her just stared, dumbfounded, struggling to comprehend the meaning of her words.

“Your name,” Lenora told her, slowly and deliberately, “is Aria.”

“My name…” Aria echoed, “is… Aria!”

She brightened as she said it. It felt so right, and the rightness of it made her giggle a pretty, air-headed giggle. Aria licked her lips and arched her back, and reached up to jiggle her own, massive tits experimentally. Doing that made her giggle even harder.

“Maaaaster,” she drawled, pouting. “Don’t you wanna, like, fuck me?”

Lenora laughed. “No need to worry about hidden agendas now, I think,” she said. “So - time to make a contract?”

“A contract?” Aria snorted. “That stuff is soooo boring. Um… let’s see… I’ll give you whatever you want if you’ll, like, make me feel good?”

“Deal,” Lenora announced. She stepped forwards and used the tip of her shoe to erase the boundary of the magical circle on the ground. As soon as it was broken, Aria bounced on her, kissing and squeezing and groping with overeager lust.

Lenora laughed, and her laughter soon turned to moans. It was time to get that itch scratched.