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Disclaimer time: I understand that is isn't the best of places for stories like this. After all, this is a forum for grownups to talk to each other about the different stuff they want to put in each others' butts  However, my muse is a fickle fiend, and where she leads I must follow. So this story idea came to me after I had just met a succubus in the game. Enjoy!
Send me an angel
Hi God. It's me, Nektar. I don't think we've talked to each other for over a decade. What can I say? I was angry at first. After all, if you didn't approve of queer folk, then why did you make me that way? Was I meant to be another Job, because if so then I failed the test hard. As time went on I just became indifferent. I would find my answers in this world, not by looking to the heavens. Coming here feels wierd, but I don't know where else to turn.
What prompted me to come here was, funny enough, thanks to your oposite number. I had met him at the strip club. I know you won't approve of that either, but a girl needs a roof over her head. I was putting on my show when a stranger came over, practically showering me with money. What surprised me first was his gray skin, his horns. I guess I should have been afraid, but I wasn't. In fact he was pleasantly surprised that I wasn't freaked out over his appearance. He talked to me in that low growly voice that makes me weak in the knees, and I knew that I wanted to throw myself at him right then and there. But what struck me as we talked was just how sweet he was. For someone with such an intimidating form his was the heart of an angel. So we talked about me, about him, about his own club. We went there together, and that night he took me. I'll spare you the details, and I know you're omniscient anyway. At one point I told him I felt like I was in Heaven. That made him chuckle.
We met again today. I decided to ask about his skin, and if he was a gargoyle. That may sound like a stupid question, but you know very well that I played a lot of Vampire the Masquerade in my teens, so don't judge me.
...
I hope that didn't sound presumptive of me.
Anyway, he told me he was an incubus. I know what that is, and it got me really curious. So I put on a little private show for him, and before I knew it he had thrown me on the floor and was ravishing me. And what a ravishing it was! It wasn't just that the sex was the rough kind I love, but for a moment there he made me feel almost like a real woman. I think he was trying to reach out to my heart in his own way, and I, being the dummy that I am, just asked him to keep having his way with me. I think I may have hurt him a little at that point, but he complied. Afterwards we shared a tender moment in each others' arms. He knows I will be back.
But it got me thinking. If there are demons, then there has to be a hell. If there is a hell, then there is a heaven. If there is a heaven, then surely there is you, God. So this is why I'm talking to you.
I'm scared. I'm scared for my soul. If your church has the right of it, I am a sinner, for being myself. I can't be anything else. And now I've lain down with a demon. If this is you giving me a sign that I'm going to Hell then it was hardly subtle.
What do you want me to do? Why did you make me this way? Why did you put him in my path?
What's really making me sad is he seems as confused as I am. This person is an incubus, yes, but he's not just some manifestation of some carnal principle. I know there is more to him than that. I've seen it in his eyes, heard it in his voice. Can't we both be happy instead? He is good for me, and I'm good for him and surely there must be good in that!
I have to go now, God. I have a date that I'm going to run late to unless I get going. I know, I know, this isn't a date you would approve of either, but he has a great ass and a fetish for redheads who just happen to be sissies. I may have struck gold here. I'll talk to you later, okay?
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