My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Irene was a damn enigma.

Could do my best, hone my intelligence to the point that it'd overshadowed the greats of our time. Einstein, Newton, Hawking… and then there'll be me standing atop the highest pedestal. All that knowledge… and no doubt Irene would still confound me to no end.

Wouldn't exactly call myself a devoted connoisseur in the mythos and folklore of old… so if someone were to put a gun to my head and ask me what's the difference between a Griffin and a Hippogriff, you better damn well believe I'd be pulling that trigger myself.

Even then, in spite of my inexperience and obvious ignorance of things that I should really be dedicating some time into - I still can somewhat say that I at least knew a thing or two about a thing or two.

For instance, I don't remember reading any mentions in their ethos that Succubi's were the stubbornest lot in the whole entire netherworld. Pretty sure they were supposed to relieve headaches, not be the main cause for them.

Five minutes. A room chock full of clothes left, right, and center. Yet somehow Irene can't seem to find herself a single decent pair of casual wear that'll deem her fit for public viewing.

Granted I did actually bring this dilemma upon myself. I insisted, after all. She, on the other hand, if I hadn't fucking slam the front door shut just then, she'd be marching herself bold and proud all the way down to the lobby and out into the streets.

"Still don't see why this is necessary," She called out from the other side of the bathroom door. "I'm fine with a simple top but what's wrong with showing off a little skin?"

Maybe it's just me, but I don't really think a police officer should really be strolling in the night wearing only a bra, and some shorts. Otherwise, she might have to fine herself afterward for indecent exposure, and I don't think she'll be able to bribe herself out of it. Not on my watch, at least.

In any case, I don't think she was all there in the head anyway.

"Everything. Everything's wrong with it. You're a walking, talking, rousing viagra pill, and you really wanna show yourself off to everyone so bad?"

"Of course not!" exclaimed the outrage in her muffled voice. "You think I'm vain like that? I thought maybe I could do it for your sake. You and no one else's. Who knows, maybe if I can get you staring at me for long enough, I'll be able to have you a little bit more lenient with your… uhh, reservations towards me."

Still, on about that, ain't she? Oh boy… I lean the back of my head any harder against the doorframe, I'd be falling right through it.

"No, bad plan. Put on some shirt and pants."

"Hmm…" echoed her voice in a strangely jubilant tone. "So you like your girls prim and proper, I assume? It's what you can't see that gets you riling up rather than what you can. It's all in the imagination. Ooo, okay, I can work with that. Gimme a sec… 'sure I got the perfect thing somewhere in this pile."

"Just… just get dressed, Irene," I said, weary words filtered through a sigh.

"Sure thing, my shy little deviant," She said, faintly chuckling. "Whatever it takes to get you going…"

It took a couple more minutes to get me and her back into tip-top shape, mostly her, no clue why she takes so long, but before long, following the sudden click of the door handle, there she finally stepped out of the bathroom, pompously grandiose with her return, and for once, I thought, it was rightfully deserved.

Irene's got her disheveled, frazzled locks tied back proper into a short ponytail, brushing away the loose fringes obscuring her hazel eyes, smiling a smile that looked ever so slightly glazed over with a pinkish shimmer.

For clothes, she had on a formal white office blouse with two buttons left unbuttoned at her… you can probably guess where. Black translucent leggings seamlessly conforming to the curvaceous shape of her slender legs, leading enticingly upwards to a tightly-fitted pencil skirt wrapped around her waist.

Her lingering stare at me awaited, anticipated, gauging the blankness in my expression for my assessment.

On the surface, there I was just nodding my head. But deep beneath the mask of indifference, my heart was skipping some life-threatening beats just looking at her.

Don't know how, but somehow she knew my exact preferences right down to the letter. Seriously, for a virgin succubus, she knew just how to entice… I can't keep my guard down for even one second around her, can I?

I pushed far away these wanton thoughts to the backend of my mind as they desperately tried clawing their way back into the forefront, and gave Irene the most casual shoulder shrug I could muster.

"Looking better," I told her.

"Oh, ever the charmer…" She murmured softly, hopping and skipping her way closer to me. "I'm flattered."

We finally departed the hotbox of pheromones that was her room, and walked side by side, her arms around mine, through the still rowdy hallways. Hearing scattered moans and grunts booming through the poor thin walls, combined with the fact that Irene just flat out refuses to pry herself loose from my arm, well… resist… resist…

Just resist.

At the end of the hallway of pleasure, I was still being lambasted with the ever-increasing sounds of focused passion, so I just had to ask…

"This was your doing, wasn't it?"

"Well…" She began, veering her eyes away a little bashfully. "You can't say I didn't try to prevent it. You saw. I clogged every opening I could find with sheets and clothes, I did what I could. I guess I'm just smellier than I thought."

"And you're not even red anymore…" I pointed out. " So why are you even more toxic now than when you were before?"

"Your fault."

"What?"

"Yeah, your fault!" She repeated, booping me once on the nose. "I used a lot of myself back when we were vampire hunting. I used so much to the point that I used too much. Completely out of juice."

There still were four more long flights of stairs to go before this place becomes a distant memory floating in a vast ocean of other distant memories, and Irene wasn't in any particular rush to hasten an end to this alone time we have together.

So, uh, plenty of chances to keep asking questions, I suppose.

"So how do you get back your juice?"

"Already have," She said. "All it takes is a bit of time, rest… and a bunch of my pheromones swaying across the air."

"So grocery shopping the other day, all those noodle cups, snacks… perfume… you were... "

Irene nodded her head. "Self-Quarantine. Like you said, I'm a walking viagra pill. That's why I came here, this rundown little place, I figured there will be fewer people here to come sniffing my way. All those perfume bottles… still couldn't find the one that can dampen the smell, but oh well..."

"Detoxing, huh?" I said, finally realizing what that meant. "Is that normal?"

"Ah, it's just a thing with us demons. Recharging makes my aphrodisiac effect much, much more potent than it has any right to be. It actually can get really dangerous and volatile at one point, but I'm already past that. Now it's just starting to settle again… but you know, if you were to come just two days earlier… let's just say we'll still be on that bed till the break of dawn."

At this point, I'm hardly even fazed by anything she says anymore, whatever come what may in the allure of her soft whispers, I was just gonna shake my head and take it in stride.

"One more thing," I said. "When you pulled me in there, you said you were waiting for me for so long. The hell was that about?"

"What do you mean?" She said, pursing her lips. "I spent so, so long alone with no one else. Just me and my thoughts. All those men knocking on my door, all these feelings that won't stop pestering me in the night, I nearly went crazy for you."

"Went crazy for -? " I gave a very bemused chuckle. "Irene, we barely even know each other. Since when have you had feelings for me?"

"I always had feelings for you."

My lips were narrowing again. My glances at her riddled in doubt. "No you didn't."

"Yes I did."

"No, you didn't, even if you did, why?" I said, firmer this time, even more confused. "From the start, you were always the… y'know, you're professional, no-nonsense… what happened to that?"

"Well... maybe you're just not a good judge of character is all. No shame in that, I'll still love you all the same."

There we go again with that tender look of hers. That softness, warmness, that came purely from a place of love. A love that I couldn't quite at all fathom.

Then, without thinking, I sniffed the air again, and suddenly had a thought pop into mind.

"Irene…" I said, looking back into those lovey-dovey eyes once more. "Are you succubi capable of getting drunk by your own pheromones?"

Her eyes went wandering again, this time without the coyness that would usually accompany the action.

"In rare... cases…" She said slowly, scrunching up her expression. "Yes… it can happen. Provided said succubus had inhaled more than she can possibly resist. Mmm, then yeah… a loss of inhibitions can be expected from her."

Okay. Okay.

"Okay."

"But don't worry, though!" She piped up in a cheer, burying her face into my arm. "I took the necessary precautions to make sure that wouldn't happen to me. You know me - I'm professional. You can rest assured that I am most definitely not drunk at all. That my love is indeed true and throbbing only for you."

Uh-huh...