"What a shame," the younger brother sighed for the third time. "It looks so soft. I really want to squeeze it."
"If we offered you a job?" The older brother finally lost patience with his sibling's uselessness. "The old waiter's a good man, sure—but at least he has a bed to sleep in."
"So you'd be my bosses?" Susan placed a finger gently against her lips and began to suck on it, slow and deliberate. "I like doing things that make us all feel good."
"I like that too!" the younger one cheered.
"You're hired!" the older one declared.
"What's your name?" they asked in unison.
"Judy. I'm Judy," she replied with a smile.
"Well then, Judy, welcome aboard. You're now part of 'The Ferrymen of the Styx'—Paul and Jack's little tavern. Ever worked as a waitress before?"
Judy shook her head.
"Perfect! We'll teach you everything," Jack beamed. "Oh—no, I mean, that's a shame. But it's fine, we'll train you, right Paul?"
"Exactly," Paul nodded. "That's what Jack meant."
This was how a succubus worked. Most of the time, they didn't need enchantments or mind spells. They understood men—deeply. A single word, a subtle gesture, a glance was often enough. No effort, no resistance. Men fell to their knees, then climbed into their beds. These creatures knew their beauty was a weapon, and they wielded it with masterful precision.
From that day on, Judy began her life as a tavern waitress. She genuinely liked the uniform—black lace with a frilly white apron, charming and playful. But more importantly, she needed a cover. And what better place than a tavern, the crossroads of gossip and secrets? All she had to do was listen. The whispers came to her.
She had planned to linger here a while before moving on. But fate had other ideas.
It happened one night.
A young man burst through the tavern doors. The moment Judy saw him, she knew—she liked him. He had wicked black hair and eyes to match. Wings, tail, the whole infernal package. Her fingers itched to touch him. And so she did.
More precisely, she touched his backside. Firm. Perfect. She wanted him.
There was only one problem: she didn't know his name.
But that changed quickly.
"Hello. I suppose I should introduce myself. I'm Belric."
He took a seat beside the old man known as All-Things-Three.
Belric. What a name. Judy made a silent vow: if he ever became her personal servant, she wouldn't make him change it. She liked it just the way it was.
She imagined the two of them tangled in sheets, whispering his name. "Belric… oh, Belric…"
The thought alone made her body flush with heat.
Meanwhile, the two men began a dull conversation about coinage. How boring. All you needed to know was that shiny gold could buy nice things. Why complicate it?
Then Belric spoke. His voice was smooth, his face untouched by illusion. He was young. Real.
"I need to know which 'door' will get me safely to the Prime Plane," he said.
A good question. Judy's heart fluttered. Was he heading to the mortal realm too? To hunt souls? Maybe they could travel together. A handsome devil as a companion—how thrilling.
But the old fool All-Things-Three didn't answer. He rambled instead.
Then, something shifted. The conversation turned. From mundane to monumental.
Judy overheard a conspiracy. A glimpse of something vast.
The two guests—one was Streisan, the angel known as the Shining One. The other, the infamous Glint of Seven Tongues. An angel and a devil, talking together? There was only one possible topic: the Abyss.
The heavens were launching a full-scale invasion. Demons and devils were locked in brutal war, and now they had to fend off celestial forces too. Winged warriors filled the skies of the upper Abyss. Worse, they were planting trees and flowers. What were they trying to do—turn the Abyss into a garden?
Judy had served them drinks. If she'd known who they were, she would've spiked their wine with wyvern venom.
But Belric? He remained calm. Had he known all along? Was he pretending? Or did he simply not care?
Or perhaps… he had a greater mission. Something hell itself had entrusted to him. Something that required reaching the Prime Plane.
Intriguing.
Eventually, Belric got the answer he needed. He smiled and walked toward Judy.
"Could I get a room?" he asked.
"Of course. Room 201. Don't bother locking the door tonight." Judy handed him the key, brushing his hand as she did. "I'm off shift soon. You go ahead."
After he left, Judy brought three drinks to All-Things-Three.
"On me," she said. "Now, about those other two answers?"
The old man's cloudy eyes sharpened, piercing into hers.
Judy shrugged. "I just happened to overhear. Thought I might take a little detour. So—can I know the other two? Or is there only one answer?"
"No. There are always three," he said slowly, voice laced with warning. "But most people get confused when faced with choice. Trust me—knowing too much isn't good for you."
"So tonight, just one answer?"
"No. Three. Always three." He nodded. "Three drinks, fair payment. I'll give you three answers. Three doors. Two lead to opposite places. One leads to the unknown."
Then he whispered the locations. Three doors. Three riddles.
"You don't want to visit the mortal realm?" he asked.
"Maybe," Judy smiled. "If he's strong enough tonight."
She turned and headed upstairs.
Belric's heart was pounding. He paced the room, restless and uncertain.
In his previous life, he'd been a shy university student—bookish, awkward, untouched. No real experience, no daring adventures. And in this life? Most of it had been spent trailing his mad father across battlefields, leaving fire and blood in their wake. There was no time for romance. Even when they captured beautiful women, Belric was forbidden to touch them. Purity had to be preserved. Some ridiculous rumor claimed that infernal beings preferred virgins.
So here he was—two lifetimes in—and still a virgin.
But tonight… tonight was different.
It felt like something out of a movie. A bold woman in a tavern, a spark of chemistry, and now—this. A room. A key. A promise.
He could barely contain himself.
Forget his father. Forget the cult hunting him. Tonight was about passion. Tonight, there was a woman.
Her name was Judy. She had the curves of a European goddess, the skin of an Eastern beauty, and lips that could melt steel. Sure, she had goat hooves and horns—but he had a tail and fangs. Who cared?
Then came the knock.
"May I come in?" Judy's voice was soft, teasing.
Belric rushed to the door and opened it. There she stood—black skirt, white apron, eyes full of fire.
"Please," he stammered. "Come in."
Judy laughed at his nervousness and stepped inside. She closed the distance, rose onto her toes, and kissed him.
Her lips were warm, her tongue bold. She tasted of wine and wildness. The kiss deepened, her breath mingling with his, her body pressing close. One hand slid down his back, the other slipped forward, fingers tracing the edge of his waistband.
She found him.
The kiss broke. Their eyes met.
"Wow," they said in unison.
Belric was dazed. Her touch hadn't stopped.
Judy, on the other hand, looked amused.
"You're… impressive," she whispered. "Just be gentle, okay?"
Before he could reply, her lips were on his again.
This time, she didn't stop at his mouth. Her kisses trailed down—chin, neck, chest, stomach. Her hands moved with purpose, her breath hot against his skin.
"Wait—here? At the door?" Belric gasped.
Judy didn't answer. She simply took him in.
"Oh gods," Belric groaned. "Then… here it is."
He closed his eyes, overwhelmed. The sensation was electric. He'd never felt anything like it. He didn't understand why infernal beings obsessed over virgins—what was the point, when this was so much better?
Judy was bold, skilled, and utterly unashamed. Her lips and hands worked in tandem, while one hand slipped between her own thighs, chasing her own pleasure. They were lost in the moment.
It didn't take long.
Belric cried out, his body shuddering. A rush of heat, a surge of release. He staggered, breathless.
Then he saw it.
A nose. A face.
All-Things-Three.
The old man stood nearby, one hand stroking his beard, the other resting on his chest. Watching.
"Don't mind me," he said cheerfully. "Just pondering a question. Pretend I'm not here. Carry on."
Belric scrambled to pull up his pants, grabbed Judy's hand, and tried to shut the door. But the old man blocked it, wedging his shoulder in.
"You know, Belric," he said solemnly, "I've been thinking. All things come in threes. You understand? It's the law of the universe. But you two—there are only two of you. Perhaps I should join?"
"Get out!" Belric roared, kicking the door shut.
The old man leapt back, nimble as ever.
Bang. The door slammed.
"You're breaking the cosmic balance!" he shouted from the hallway. "This isn't natural! I'm just trying to help. That woman's too much for you alone. I could assist. Free of charge!"
Inside, Judy opened her mouth, revealing what she'd taken—and swallowed it with a grin.
"Did you enjoy that?" she asked.
"I think I'm in love," Belric replied.
They collapsed onto the bed, tangled in sheets and laughter.
No one paid attention to the old man outside.
"Well then," he muttered. "If you change your mind—or decide to honor the law of threes—I'll be downstairs."
Belric was flushed, sweating, and utterly overwhelmed.
He tried—he really did. He shifted, adjusted, angled his hips, but something wasn't working. The moment was perfect, the woman was ready, but he… wasn't sure how to proceed.
He'd watched plenty of films, sure. But most of them were censored, the crucial parts hidden behind pixelated mosaics. Even the uncensored ones didn't teach technique—just spectacle.
Judy lay beneath him, her body glistening, her breath ragged, her legs parted in invitation. And yet… he couldn't find the way in.
Panic rose. He wished he had a drill instead of a—well, what he had. At least then he could poke until something gave.
Judy noticed his hesitation. Her lips curled into a knowing smile.
"Trouble?" she asked, voice soft, teasing.
Belric's face turned crimson.
"No way," Judy gasped, eyes wide with delight. "You're a virgin? Seriously? I hit the jackpot!"
Belric couldn't speak. He simply nodded, mortified.
"Oh. My. Gods." Judy's voice was breathless with excitement. "This is incredible. I need to remember this moment forever."
Inside, she was soaring. A handsome devil, and a virgin? That was rarer than diamonds. In an age where innocence was nearly extinct, she'd stumbled upon a miracle.
"Relax, sweetheart," she whispered. "Lie back. Let me show you."
She eased him onto the bed, straddled him with practiced grace, and cupped his face gently.
"This is my favorite position," she said with a wink. "Don't worry—I'll be gentle."
With deft fingers, she guided him. Under her touch, he found the path.
And then—he was inside.
Belric gasped. Words failed him. He could only breathe, deep and slow, as a wave of sensation crashed over him.
It was like a signal—like a war horn calling the charge.
Judy began to move.
Her hips rolled, her body danced. The wooden bed creaked beneath them, a rhythm of passion and release. Her red hair flared like fire in his vision, her breasts swayed with each motion, mesmerizing.
She gripped his hands tightly, fingers interlocked, their bodies locked in a primal embrace.
In that moment, they were no longer devil and succubus. No longer strangers. They were beasts—driven by instinct, by heat, by the pursuit of pleasure. Beliefs, duties, destinies—all forgotten.
Judy cried out, high and wild. Belric followed with a guttural roar.
She collapsed atop him, spent and breathless.
For a long time, neither spoke. Only the sound of their breathing filled the room.
"How was it, my handsome devil?" Judy murmured, kissing his chest.
"Hot," Belric managed. Then, after a pause, "Wet."
"Was I good? Hmm? Did I please you?" Her voice was slurred with satisfaction, her tongue tracing a path up his chest, leaving a trail of glistening kisses.
"Perfect," Belric whispered. "Absolutely perfect."
Judy giggled, her laughter light and wicked. "Want more?"
Belric pulled her close, smiling.
"Why not?" he said.
He didn't yet understand the danger. He didn't know what it meant to lie with a succubus. He wouldn't realize until morning that Judy's softness came with infinite stamina.
That night, the bed never stopped groaning.