...
Place setting for an original work. Once again, I must inform you to focus on the concept and not the writing (which is crap.) One of these days I will write an original short that I'm actually proud of. Just not today.
It's a weird little place, that's for sure. Real family-friendly. Not that you see kids in there, but if there were any, they wouldn't be exposed to anything more than they see in the suburbs of Over-Mayfield. Maybe somebody bares a little skin, or somebody mutters a bad word while pouring their heart out to the bartender, but it's as quiet as the grave in there most days.
People go there for one reason, and it's got nothing to do with getting drunk. Or laid, for that matter.
Legend has it several different ways about the land where it's built. Some say it was the work of an angel who pissed on the grass. Some say a hermit sat under a freezing cold waterfall there long time ago. Whichever it is, the result is the same. Any liquid, when drunk on the premises, temporarily dampens the libido.
Some people wonder why this is useful. They usually haven't spend much time with the children of Jezebel, and if they have, they've taken their experience entirely the wrong way.
See, the thing about succubi that most people don't understand is that they don't just have sex for fun. They need sex in the same way a vampire needs blood. Their body is screaming "Fuck! Fuck!" at them 24/7. When they can't do it, they waste away until you're left with nothing but a skeleton in the corner with its hand between its legs.
You may realize already that this usually isn't too problematic. Since succubi- and incubi, for that matter- are so attractive, they can have all the action they want from a variety of sources. Apart from the occasional STD, life is just one big party for most of them.
Most of them. When you factor in a little thing we like to call "monogamy," it gets complicated.
Almost no one being, mortal or immortal, has the stamina to give a succubus action as often as they need it. Things get messy when they try. People can laugh about it all they like, but the truth is, you can actually die of exhaustion from too much sex. And when it happens, it's not funny.
When you see some hapless human who has decided to go ahead and risk it all for love, and they're tired and out of condoms and they're not sure if they can get it up for another round, and the succubus on the bed is practically in tears because they won't let themselves find someone else, and they wish it didn't have to be this way, and they understand how hard it is but they want it *now*...
No, it's actually not funny at all.
The place was founded by an incubus who ran away from his girlfriend after one too many painful nights. They say he's his own best customer.
So people go, for whatever reason. They have a drink or two, get miserable on the counter, and end up confessing their woes to a bartender who likely has the a patience of a saint- because you'd better believe anyone who can stand there night after night listening to some fire elemental (who can't have sex with her one true love because she'd burn them to death) sobbing tears of lava and not have a nervous breakdown is a cut above most.
It's a weird little place.
You can guarantee one thing, though: you go there, nobody's going to pick you up.
It's a weird little place, that's for sure. Real family-friendly. Not that you see kids in there, but if there were any, they wouldn't be exposed to anything more than they see in the suburbs of Over-Mayfield. Maybe somebody bares a little skin, or somebody mutters a bad word while pouring their heart out to the bartender, but it's as quiet as the grave in there most days.
People go there for one reason, and it's got nothing to do with getting drunk. Or laid, for that matter.
Legend has it several different ways about the land where it's built. Some say it was the work of an angel who pissed on the grass. Some say a hermit sat under a freezing cold waterfall there long time ago. Whichever it is, the result is the same. Any liquid, when drunk on the premises, temporarily dampens the libido.
Some people wonder why this is useful. They usually haven't spend much time with the children of Jezebel, and if they have, they've taken their experience entirely the wrong way.
See, the thing about succubi that most people don't understand is that they don't just have sex for fun. They need sex in the same way a vampire needs blood. Their body is screaming "Fuck! Fuck!" at them 24/7. When they can't do it, they waste away until you're left with nothing but a skeleton in the corner with its hand between its legs.
You may realize already that this usually isn't too problematic. Since succubi- and incubi, for that matter- are so attractive, they can have all the action they want from a variety of sources. Apart from the occasional STD, life is just one big party for most of them.
Most of them. When you factor in a little thing we like to call "monogamy," it gets complicated.
Almost no one being, mortal or immortal, has the stamina to give a succubus action as often as they need it. Things get messy when they try. People can laugh about it all they like, but the truth is, you can actually die of exhaustion from too much sex. And when it happens, it's not funny.
When you see some hapless human who has decided to go ahead and risk it all for love, and they're tired and out of condoms and they're not sure if they can get it up for another round, and the succubus on the bed is practically in tears because they won't let themselves find someone else, and they wish it didn't have to be this way, and they understand how hard it is but they want it *now*...
No, it's actually not funny at all.
The place was founded by an incubus who ran away from his girlfriend after one too many painful nights. They say he's his own best customer.
So people go, for whatever reason. They have a drink or two, get miserable on the counter, and end up confessing their woes to a bartender who likely has the a patience of a saint- because you'd better believe anyone who can stand there night after night listening to some fire elemental (who can't have sex with her one true love because she'd burn them to death) sobbing tears of lava and not have a nervous breakdown is a cut above most.
It's a weird little place.
You can guarantee one thing, though: you go there, nobody's going to pick you up.