Page 74 of The Succubi's Choice

Miri runs her hand over it. The wood is smooth, glossy, and the cushion is buttery and warm.

“It was your arm, wasn’t it?” The woman asks, looking at the still obvious black marks along her veins. “I thought it was makeup when you walked in.”

Nodding, Miri doesn’t look at her, instead at the small room. There’s something strange, something cozy and intimate, about the dark walls and the dark wood. Like an old library, or a treasured study.

The woman points to the underside of the table, where an obvious button is set just under the lip. “You should always be able to reach this, it will open the door and let me know if you need help.” She pulls out some small, leather cuffs, that fit into a notch right next to the button. “Do you want to try?”

“What would happen?” She asks, still staring at the wooden table, at the cuffs, how they would fit on the still-red marks on her wrists.

“I would cuff you, blindfold you, and bring someone in, and they could fuck you if they want.” her careful wording doesn’t escape Miri. “Or I could bring you somewhere else.” The words drop, weighty, in the small room.

“Somewhere else, I think,” Miri says, not wanting to be restrained on such an impersonal table, not by someone she doesn’t know, not by a stranger who she can’t vet, can’t even see.

“Hmm,” the woman says, voice carefully non-judgmental. “Then I think I know.”

The next room, she inserts a key card into the lock before pushing it open, and no matter how close Miri watches, she doesn’t see where she keeps it. There’s certainly no visible pockets that Miri can see, and she has approximately two seconds to comprehend it before her mind is derailed, the track crashing and burning into a pile of rubble.

Inside, there is a naked young man, his skin perfect, with a blindfold over his eyes. His hands are outstretched, perfectly captured by the same leather cuffs, and his ankles are anchored on the corners of the table as well.

The only other thing he’s wearing is a cock ring, nestled at the base of his erection.

He shivers, as the door closes behind them with a click, as if their presence changes the temperature of the room.

“This is Franklin,” the woman says, and the man twitches at the sound of her voice. “You can do with him as you want.”

His neck is arched back, his head on the leather cushion, and she can see his Adam’s apple bob when the words leave her mouth. The lines of muscles in his shoulders flex, but the cuffs stay tight.

He’s buff, the lines of his chest cut and clear, with a small trailing of dark hair leading from his cock to his belly, and all Miri wants to do is smooth her hand over it, and she barely notices when the door clicks behind the woman leaving, and is only aware of the sudden silence in the room.

“You can still hear me, right?” Miri whispers, and the man swallows again, before nodding. “Do you want...” she trails off, staring at the exquisite body in front of her, a tightness in her stomach and behind her breasts.

Again, he nods.

In a basket off to the side is an almost comically cheerful collection of condoms, and she picks one up.

“You don’t even know what I look like, do you?” She says, running her finger over the foil wrapper, her heart pounding. “You don’t even know what I would do?”

He opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it, then opens it again after wetting his lips. “Anything you want.”

Anything seems too far, but she steps up to the table, running a hand along his perfectly taut thigh. His cock jumps in response. “Do you want me to take off the ring?”

A hesitation, and he shakes his head.

She runs her hand towards the inside of his thigh, feeling the small curly hairs, and he twitches again. “What do you like?”

His chest rises and falls like he has just run a mile. “Anything you want,” he repeats, and she lays her hand at the base of his cock. “Anything.”

She runs her hand over his chest, and gets rewarded by him panting harder, like he’s been waiting for too long for this. She gets to the blindfold, touches the edges, and he shakes his head.

“Okay,” she says, and every part of her throbs at the sight in front of her. “Can you reach the button?”

He nods.

“Good,” she says, and her voice wavers. Embarrassing. For a brief second, she lets her charm spark out, and he groans the moment it’s in contact with his skin. “Use the button if you need to.”

He groans again, nodding, and she prays that that’s enough of a command that he would follow it.

She rips open the condom wrapper, the sound shockingly final, and he swallows once more. “How long have you been waiting here?”

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