Contains: F/F, Lesbian, Transgender, Supernatural, Succubus, Light Dominance, Reluctance, Oral, Feet/High Heels.
Just a tiny bit of demon fun! Straight to the point smut, but not completely heartless. I ended up feeling a lot of simpatico for Arsa over the course of writing this, and have a couple ideas for her future already.
Grace spares her not a moment. Stepping precisely backwards, she extends a hand, blindly searching for the desk behind her. When she finds it, she stops, straightens her poses, and begins the arduous process of drawing her absurdly tight skirt up to her waist. “I said…” Her hips shift this way and that, gaining an inch here, an inch there, exposing bit by bit, her robust, sculpted thighs to Arsa’s rapacious eyes. “On your knees.”
Arsa sets her hands against her hips, standing proud, despite the tenuous circumstance and the treacherous erection so pointedly blaring her true feelings to the room. “I don’t know what you think is going to happen, but Arsa, Seven Hundred and Sixth of her line, does not… does not—”
“Does not… what?” Grace settles her firm rear against the desk, letting her legs fall askew at the knees to exposing her clean, cotton panties. “Eat pussy?”
“Well…” Grace’s palm slides against her toned thigh. “Arsa, Seven Hundred and Sixth of her line, is allowed to say no, but…” Her eyes indicate the folio beside her, and the parchment of Arsa’s captured blood. “I can’t promise she’ll enjoy the alternative.”
Arsa swallows, but holds firm, even as watching Grace’s slowly roving hand sends painful tingles through her nipples and down the back of her neck.
Grace’s hand stops against the crux of her leg, wide thumb framing her panties, so vibrantly white. “You’re hungry.”
Arsa shakes her head, breath coming faster. Her tail lashes behind her an anxious whips, calling attention to the pent-up need Arsa can no longer ignore.
“You came here to eat.”
Whimpering now, Arsa struggles to ignore the furious desire ricocheting around her core.
Grace cants her chin downwards, eyes smoldering with a different sort of hellfire. She arches her foot, tap-tapping her heel against the floor. “So eat, already.”
And Arsa kneels.