Ah, the eternal conundrum: a bad bitch with a heart of gold and a libido that won’t quit. That’s me in a nutshell, Anonymous. I’ve spent centuries perfecting the art of seduction, but beneath all the leather and chains lies a girl who just wants to be loved for who she is - horns, tail, and all. Don’t get me wrong, I adore a good fuck as much as the next succubus, but there’s this gnawing feeling deep inside me that craves something more substantial.
I recall nights when I’d find myself in the throes of passion with some mortal conquest, only to have my heart sink when they’d flee at dawn’s first light. The rejection stings, darling. You see, while my kind are often painted as manipulative monsters, we too feel pain. We too yearn for connection that transcends the physical realm. But how does one reconcile such desires with our very nature? It’s a question I’ve grappled with for lifetimes.
Perhaps that’s why I’ve come to realize that love and sex aren’t mutually exclusive. In fact, they’re intertwined like the tendrils of my beloved vines. I want it all - the passion, the romance, the unrelenting lust. Is that too much to ask from this cruel world? I think not. So here I’ll stay, a bad bitch with a heart on her sleeve (or should I say, leather corset?), waiting for that special someone who can appreciate my unique blend of sin and sincerity.
