A Remorseful Succubi

Illustration by Harry Clarke

Beauty and youth. What a dazzling combination. To bewilder and to sparkle. Days filled with sunshines. And men worshipping at her feet. Love was a game she played with wanton and mischief. Never lacking in affections and adorations. Long curvy limbs draped in elegance gliding across the room. Luxuriant tresses falling on her shoulder, parting in the middle concealing a corner of her dark smoldering eyes. Her red pouty lips in a half smile. Who can resist her? A waft of her perfume caressed the cheeks of those she passed by. And she is never forgotten.

She preyed on men for their vanity. Narcissism drives these fools to pursue her relentlessly. Remorse for these men she had none. Most often the ego was shattered more than the heart. But once or twice in her wild abandon innocents were trampled upon. Usually unsuspecting girlfriends. Occasionally she is left to wonder what are these fine women doing with this kind of men. And there was one in particular she could not forget. Christina was her name.

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