Page 73 of The Succubi's Choice

There’s a soft, metallic sound, almost a click, and…

A sharp snap of pain, and Miri jerks up, right as a clamp shuts over her left nipple. She makes a noise, something between a gasp and a moan, and Michelle places a firm hand over the clasp.

“It’s okay, we got you,” she says, and Haylee doesn’t stop with her tongue, slowly fucking her with her mouth, and it’s so much.

Her breasts tighten, so much it feels like she can’t breathe, and Michelle runs her hand down her chest, soothing.

Quick, though, the snap of pain recedes, replaced with a strange heat, like they touched a bit of fire to her chest, and she gets her breath underneath her again.

It’s not quite like the normal energy she gets from sex, the normal way of her feeding, as neither of them are the ones directly receiving the pleasure, but…

As Michelle fixes the next clamp and she arches up again, she’s still getting...something. Some sort of effect, some sort of power, it’s making her head swim and…

With the other snap of pain she shudders, quick and sharp, into an orgasm, and Haylee leans up to kiss Michelle over her. She replaces her tongue with two fingers, lazily, and every part of Miri feels tight, taut, and gasping.

Slow, Michelle winds her hand in Haylee’s hair, but with real tenderness, with real affection, like this is a thing they’ve been doing for ages. Like they always find random women, deck them out like this, and make out over them.

Her eyes stray to the side. His face impassive, the Archdemon watches her, even as the woman next to him chats.

Miri twists, so she’s facing down, and the pressure against the clamps sends spikes down her spine. Not wholly unwanted, but...intense.

“Please,” she says, and she’s begging again. She hooks her fingers at the sides of Michelle’s panties, the lace barely hiding the black curls underneath them, and instead of focusing on her charm she focuses on the pull of the clamps, fire hot and angry.

Michelle nods down at her, and Miri scrambles to pull them down, before surging forward and kissing her there, right in the middle of the dark curls, and...

And she can close her eyes, feel the energy from her, feel the energy radiating off of Haylee, as they kiss, and she loses herself into her motions, loses herself into all of it.

* * *

After,there are twin sharp bursts of pain as Michelle gently unclasps the clamps, and her head is a haze as she shimmies into her dress.

She’s never had sex twice in a night before, and she feels...so strange. Like her hands are tingling and her blood is fizzing, like she’s drunk again, this time with no strange feeling in her mouth.

“She might need to come down some,” Michelle says to Not-Thomas, breaking through the clouds in Miri’s brain, as they walk her back towards him.

He nods, and Miri cuddles right next to him, and he doesn’t even break the conversation as he rests his arm around her.

For a few minutes, she basks in the glow of the contact, the solidness of his chest, in the warmth of the arms around her.

Not-Thomas and the woman in the corset fall silent, looking at her, bringing her out of that thought, suddenly self-conscious of the look on her face.

“Do you like being tied up,” the woman says, her voice kind.

And that’s not exactly something she’s done before either. “I honestly don’t know,” she says, a chill down her back. “Would I be able to get out?”

“If someone keeps you tied up here when you don’t want to, they aren’t welcome here.” She holds out her hand, and it’s covered in a soft leather glove. “Here, I have someone I can introduce you to, and see if you enjoy it.”

She doesn’t miss the twitch of an eyebrow in the Archdemon’s expression, and that gives her pause.

“I wouldn’t let your friend get hurt,” the woman says, her voice sharp, “You should know that by now.”

“I was hurt recently,” Miri all but blurts out, and she gets rewarded by a meticulously shaped eyebrow being raised. “Forgive him if he’s a bit wary.”

His face shutters, like she called him out on something much worse than showing concern.

The woman’s expression turns appraising once more. “You are sharper than you let on, aren’t you.” Instead of holding out her hand, she links arms with Miri, leading her away and leaving Not-Thomas sitting alone. “He is rather insistent on being a leader, and this is my house,” she says, as if Miri is a treasured conspirator. “I’ve never seen him overprotective of someone, but it’s not a stretch of imagination to believe it.”

She leads her to a small room, the size of most karaoke rooms, with a dark mahogany table on it, with only a small leather cushion on it.

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