Page 30 of Sins of the Succubus

Neela advances on the landlord, her eyes burning with righteous fury. "You've preyed on the vulnerable for the last time."

With a swift movement, she plunges her hand into his chest, her fingers wrapping around his heart. The landlord's eyes bulge, a gurgled scream escaping his lips as Neela squeezes, her grip unyielding.

As the life drains from his eyes, Neela turns to his victim, her voice softening. "You're free now," she says, releasing the now lifeless body to the floor.

The woman looks up at Neela, tears streaming down her face as she mouths a silent 'thank you.' Neela nods, a small smile playing on her lips as she takes a step back, allowing the woman to embrace her daughter.

I watch the scene unfold, a sense of satisfaction washing over me. This is what true power looks like—the ability to protect the weak and punish the wicked. And as I look at Neela, I know that we're just getting started.

The air is thick with the musk of our recent exertions, the scent mingling with the smoldering remnants of the bed's ruined linens. Neela, her succubus nature now fully unleashed, lies sated yet restless atop the disheveled sheets, her eyes reflecting the flicker of the room's lone torch.

"Something's amiss," she murmurs, her voice a sultry whisper that stirs the ashes of my desire. "I can feel it, Dremlor. The hunger... it's not yet quenched."

I understand all too well. The succubus within her craves more than mere physical release—it demands the vitality of others, their life force a potent elixir that fuels her newfound powers. I watch as she rises, her movements graceful and purposeful, a predator on the prowl.

The young woman we rescued from this vile place sits on the edge of the room, her mother in her arms, both of them overwhelmed by the night's events. Neela approaches them, her presence commanding yet tender.

"You," she says, extending her hand to the young woman. "Join us in the bedchambers."

The woman looks up, her eyes meeting Neela's. There's a moment of hesitation before she nods, a silent agreement passing between them. Her mother, clearly terrified of the twodemons in her home, expresses her gratitude once more before excusing herself for a breath of fresh air.

I watch, my member throbbing with anticipation, as Neela guides the young woman to the bed. The torchlight dances across their skin, casting shadows that entwine and intertwine like lovers in the throes of passion. Neela's hands roam freely over the young woman's body, her touch both tender and possessive.

"Let me show you what it means to be free," Neela whispers, her fingers tracing the contours of the young woman's curves. The young woman's breath hitches as Neela's hand slips between her thighs, her body instinctively opening to the promise of release.

I move behind Neela, my hands gripping her hips as I align myself with her entrance. She pushes back against me, a silent invitation that I am all too eager to accept. With a single, fluid motion, I bury myself inside her, relishing the tight warmth of her body as she gasps in delight.

Neela's moans mingle with the young woman's as I set a rhythm that is both demanding and deliberate. Each thrust drives Neela forward, her fingers working with increasing fervor as she brings the young woman closer and closer to the brink.

The young woman's cries of pleasure fill the room, her body writhing beneath Neela's skillful ministrations. "Come for us," Neela commands, her voice laced with the raw power of her demonic nature. The young woman's back arches, her body convulsing as waves of ecstasy wash over her.

As the young woman's climax subsides, Neela turns to me, her eyes ablaze with desire. "Now, Dremlor," she says, her voice thick with need. "Cover us with your seed."

I increase my pace, my own release imminent. With a final, powerful thrust, I let out a guttural roar, and shove Neela into the mattress to let my come spray over their breasts.

We collapse onto the bed, our bodies entwined in a sweaty, satisfied tangle. The young woman, sated and serene, watches us with a mixture of awe and gratitude. Neela smiles at her, a genuine expression of warmth and affection.

"Thank you," she murmurs.

Neela smiles, her body moulded against mine like she was made to fit against me. "What is your name, sweetheart?"

"Quinn," she responds with a gentle smile. "I… I'm going to start a new life. On my own."

"I think that's a wonderful idea, Quinn," Neela encourages, and when her gaze meets mine I know that she plans on doing the same thing but with me. "You're free now."

As the young woman closes her eyes, a contented smile gracing her lips, I pull Neela close, planting a possessive kiss on her forehead. This moment, this perfect union of pleasure and power, is a testament to the bond that we share—a bond that has been forged in the fires of shared struggle and mutual desire.

Together, we have burned down the old world, clearing the way for a new era—an era where the darkness holds no fear, where the chains of oppression are shattered, and where the passion that ignites between a demon and his succubus can set the world ablaze.

19

DREMLOR

As Neela and I traverse the vast landscapes of Protheka, our quest for vengeance leads us to the serpentine coils of Nagaland. Here, the Naga, with their scales glistening under the twin moons, treat the less fortunate as chattel, their pleasure slaves subjected to the vilest of whims.

I watch as Neela, ever the chameleon, slips into the guise of a customer, her feline eyes hooded with feigned desire. She moves through the crowd, her body language an intoxicating blend of submission and defiance, drawing the attention of the Naga as easily as a moth to flame.

"Care for a dance?" she murmurs to a particularly brutish Naga, his scales a sickly green that speak of his rank in this den of iniquity.

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