Read your Contracts 03

"I-I'm s-such a pathetic slut... and I'll let anyone do a-anything they want to me, since it feels so good..." she gulped, "I w-want cock... or anything... please..."

Satilli undid the bindings on her thigh and took the quieted vibrator for himself, bringing it up to his lips and made sure she would hear as he ran his tongue along its girth, lapping up the juices she'd been drenching it with for who knew how long. And he whispered in her ear, "Good enough, I suppose."

The vibrator fell to the floor with a clatter as he knelt between her legs, knees kept spread by the frame so every inch of pale flesh was provided for close inspection. She'd been shaved, he noticed as he ran his tongue all the way through the crack of her ass, across her wet, pulsing vulva; and he knew she'd been shaved rather than doing it herself, the telltale differences were there, curves and dips best done by someone else were gloriously bare and tender. Her insides had been flushed, the taste of the warm, salty water used lay in the grooves of her asshole.

"Cock," he said at the furthest edge of her hearing, tightening his fingers into a cone at the entrance of her cunt, "Or anything, as you wish!"

She was so wet and loose that he had no trouble thrusting his entire hand deep inside, kept it right where it was as she writhed from sudden pain, her restraints clattering until she'd pulled them as tightly as they could be. Then she went limp and piss dribbled down Satilli's arm, the bloom of coppery blood from a bitten lip to keep from screaming with agonizing orgasm dribbling down her chin.

"Damn, she really was close after all..." Satilli removed his hand with a sick pop and the woman slouched in her chains. "What's that saying... oh, right, leave things cleaner than you arrived."

He replaced her gag, shoved the dildo inside her, strapped it tightly in place, and turned the dial all the way up, then stepped out of the closet.

Because of the inherent inaccuracy in manifestation without the beacon of a summoner, Satilli had to spend some time figuring out where, exactly, in the human world he'd emerged. America, and he knew his aim was at least that good, but other than that only knew that he was inside someone's personal office. Cheap rug, and one could trust the judgement of an incubus on the quality of flooring, seeing it from a bent posture more than oft enough. Artwork, all prints and public domain so the office holder wasn't someone of means, but felt that somehow they were elevated by having paintings. A big, sturdy, oak desk and a nice, leather chair behind, both showing signs of boxed edges from age. Oddly enough no computer, which Satilli had come to think of as standard equipment in human spaces.

This office belonged to a bureaucrat, and not one high up on the ladder, but perhaps in the high middle considering the personal attendant currently writhing in the closet.

Magicking himself up a short skirt and a camisole, putting away his little horn and his poof-tipped tail, Satilli left with his ears tingling at the sound of the plump woman finally cumming. Good for her.

"Umm, miss?" An office drone said as Satilli emerged into the cubicled space. "Can I help you with something? I thought the dean's office was locked..." So, Satilli translated, you're trespassing.

Satilli turned to look at the door he'd just come out from, acting confused while displaying the curve of his girlish tush and the wrinkle of his thin camisole giving the hint of nipple on his bitty titties. When he turned back and rocked on his heels, hands grasped behind his back to further accentuate his thin chest. "Sorry, sir, I was lost and before I knew it, I was in there, but only for a second..."

The facts would fall into place nicely, he never said the direction he'd arrived from, and it would fit that this office drone, distracted with his work, didn't notice a slip of a girl accidentally walking past and into a supposedly locked room. Humans didn't like thinking past the 'obvious' facts and a rush of blood from the head to the penis didn't help their decision-making skills when presented with a cute face and a slender build. Satilli, as he constantly did, silently thanked his mother for his small frame and his elfin good looks, provoking attraction in the hearts of men as oft as shame in being aroused of someone who looked like nothing else but a fresh high-school graduate.

The drone was blushing, Satilli considered rocking his world but this one was a little too boring and he was up on Earth to unwind.

"Miss," the drone said, "Where were you going? Maybe I can lead the way?" Into a bathroom or perhaps just a dark corner, Satilli appended.

This was... that was a dean's office, so this had to be an institution of learning, right? What fun could be had here, he wondered. Football team, all at once? No, that was a nice fantasy but Satilli would only have a real chance at affecting it if there was a game currently ending and they didn't play this early in the day. Find the creepy teacher? No again, this was supposed to be a fun trip, not a work trip.

Shot in the dark. "I wanted to sit a class with that one teacher... I can't remember his name, but he's got that kind of bushy, white beard and the glasses? Do you know who I'm talking about?" Because that would make one of us.

"Richard Tanner? The anthropology professor?"

That was one of the great things about humans, they were so good at filling in all sorts of gaps without asking the real questions. All Satilli had to do was mention a stereotype and all of a sudden he had a target pointed out like he'd ordered from a catalogue.

Satilli bent forward with a big smile, giving the drone all the service he would be getting with a glance down the camisole of androgynous breast. "That's right! He's the one I wanted to see."

Instructions were given by a man whose eyes kept wandering down Satilli's body and snapping back into place in an effort not to seem creepy, and the little demon waltzed out of the office space and toward his day's prey. A class was being held at that very moment and after that the man would be having office hours in a private room, a perfect scenario to lay a trap.

Going outside to cross between buildings, Satilli slowed to bask in the midmorning sunlight. He couldn't believe some demons were afraid of the open air, since it was always so cramped back home or it felt that way since his entire world was roofed with stone. Then there were the pleasant scents which wafted up from flowers planted along the way and the trimmed grasses that made up a lovely, green carpet in the courtyard.

And as Satilli entered the other building, an old scent hit his nose and bubbles shot up in his chest. He skipped to the door, the smell getting stronger all the way until it peaked as he opened the door and right there, sitting at the back of the auditorium, was the source.

"Mister man~" Satilli scooted into the row and clung to Harry's arm, taking advantage of the man's surprise in seeing him again to smooch his cheek.

From the front, the target spoke, "Miss, I'm sorry but we're in the middle of class. You'll have to wait outside until we finish up. And mister Cox, it's fine that you're showing off your girlfriend(s) but it's becoming distracting."

Satilli's cheeks glowed at being called his girlfriend, but supposed it would be better to put down that rumor right away. "Sorry professor, but Dan in the main office said it was alright if I watched today. Mister Cocks is just a friend I didn't expect to see; sorry if that caused a disturbance." All of ten people were there, spread thin in a room meant for a hundred, so what did it matter if one more showed up?"

The professor sighed. "Fine, sure." One girl near the front started saying something but the man held up his hand to stop her, "It's just one day, calm down."

He continued with what he was saying, something about carbon dating not that Satilli cared to listen after it became obvious 'dating' didn't mean what he'd hoped.

"What are you doing here?" Harry whispered.

It wasn't necessary to speak quietly, the room was clearly designed to nearly deafen the person standing front and center while letting him project his voice to everyone in attendance.

Satilli only clung less as Harry had to use his arm in writing notes, but rested a newly-reddened head of hair on the man's shoulder. "My last job was really hard, so mistress said I should take a break for a week. Vacation time. Or, if you mean why I'm here specifically with you, serendipity. Good luck to see a friend."

"You think we're friends?" How cute, he was still trying to listen to the professor and take down notes ignoring the distraction to his right.

"Don't be like that~" Satilli cooed into his ear, glad to see the breath shot shivers up his spine. "Don't you remember having a whole lot of fun in my mouth that one time? You were absolutely delicious, you know?" To make his point more clear, Satilli took great pleasure in running his tongue along his glistening lips, evoking imagery of the last time they'd met, the first time, when he'd wrung the human's balls dry.

How was he living in the same house as a succubus full time and still having such adorable reactions? Memirellin had to be slacking if her master wasn't desensitized to anything sexual at this point. At least that made some sort of sense, mistress, Memirellin's mother, said the girl wasn't suited for the profession in the first place. Did that mean Harry might be backed up and vulnerable to temptation?

"Say," Satilli whispered, "Just to kill some time, wanna find a dark corner after class and try me out for free?"

Surprisingly, this didn't have the effect of tented pants. Harry actually thought through what he was going to say so hard that Satilli almost thought he could see the man's thoughts cascading down his vision.

"I'll be declining your offer." Harry eventually said.

Ah, well, a clear and unambiguous rejection was reassuring in its own way. "Good boy," said Satilli, "Can't be accepting open-ended contracts like that or you'd end up getting your bum poked sooner or later." His hand slipped down to cup his teensy bulge through the pleat of his skirt. "But I would be a good first time for a tight guy like you. Three inches~"

There it was, the slight tinge on his cheeks that meant the mental image was successfully planted and couldn't be shooed away. Nothing magical about it, just psychology; mankind had this horrible affliction by which trying not to think about a thing in fact made it leap to the front of the unguarded mind. Surely Harry was now thinking about how Satilli would bend him over and push into his tight, puckered butthole, or maybe he was thinking about Satilli's talented tongue wrapping around his dick again. The demon truly hoped the man was thinking about his own tongue lapping across Satilli's little man, looking up into a girlish face as cum splashed against the back of his throat so suddenly that he had no choice but to swallow.

But the tinge faded too quickly for any of those ideas to have taken root. Too bad, but that was part of the problem with humans who actually knew something of the occult: too suspicious to take what was freely offered.

Harry said under his breath, "I've got to learn how to perform exorcisms."

"Ouch... I'm not that bad, am I?" Satilli leaned into his sadness.

"The last time you were here, you left me naked in a women's restroom in a public park." Harry stated as a matter of fact.

Satilli couldn't avoid smiling. "Mistress told me to. Not my fault."

"And that whole time you were trying to trick me into sucking you off. I thought you were a girl until I got home."

"I never once told you I was a woman." Satilli folded his arms and pouted. "Besides, sucking cock is fun and you'd know that if you only tried it. Mad at me for giving you the option, I ought to be offended instead."

"Well, you sure as hell went out of your way to look like one!" His voice was verging on whispered yelling.

Satilli waved away the concept and rested his petite chin on tented fingers, elbows on the desk. "Who's to say I didn't always dress like that regardless? Me, I didn't. You're right, but I only started dressing in drag once I began my apprenticeship, that along with the flesh-crafting to get these itty-bitty-titties that are ~just~ on the edge of believably male." He squeezed his shoulders together to accentuate the swell of his chest so Harry would have to get a look. "See, there's so much more of a market for twinks and femboys than there is for giggolos. Would you have let me suck your dick if I looked like that guy two rows down?"

"You've made your point." Harry sighed, they were actually drawing some stares despite being too far from anyone to hear anything but murmurs. "Can you please just settle down and let me focus?"

"This is boring." Satilli said, then mimed stroking a dick in front of his lips, tongue pushing against one cheek from the inside, "Want a quickie under the desk while you work? It'll shut me up, alright."

Hard fingers dug into Satilli's shoulder with the promise of immediate and irreversible beheading behind them. He didn't dare turn his head to address their owner, but saw a stray strand of ash-white hair at the very edge of his vision.

A familiar voice hissed into his ear, "If anyone is going to suck off my master under this desk, it will be me, you ravening hellion!"

"Will both of you get out!?" Harry actually said loud enough that heads turned and the professor had paused to take a pointed breath.

"Of course, master, I only smelled this one..." Memirellin stopped, apparently feeling it would come off as an excuse, and hauled Satilli out, releasing him against a nearby wall, pinned under much more dangerous claws.

"Ooh, I've heard of this one!" Satilli cried, assuming a coy pose as best as he was allowed in the tight space. "This is that new thing, right? Kabedon? Mistress says it's all the rage." He moved to steal a kiss and Memirellin released him, all according to plan.

The young mistress looked much better than she once did, happier. Even currently threatening to claw Satilli's head off or incinerate him on the spot, she at least looked like she wouldn't laugh about it afterward, a marked improvement from her former demeanor. Just as mistress said, that man had been a tremendously good influence on the white devil.

"What in the name of Hell are you doing here!?" Memirellin hissed, "Has mother not had her fun yet? Do I have to send her back a smoking corpse to be left alone with my master?"

"I'm not here for any of that..." Satilli, feeling that he really was a few badly-chosen words from at least exquisite pain, paused to get his story right. "Mistress said I could take a vacation for the week after one of my jobs. Do you happen to know a man who is called the Mill Plain slasher?"

The white devil's fury sublimated in an instant and she grabbed Satilli's shoulders, staring at very specific portions of his anatomy. "I see. Are you alright?"

"Oh? Nothing mistress' flesh-crafters couldn't fix in a day. Pretty painful, I'll say; barely seemed to be a sex thing at all until near the end when he started masturbating with my hand."

"He went for your arms?" Memirellin took a space next to the Satilli on the wall (to be closer to her master?) and her claws retracted to normal human length to signal the end of aggression. "That guy always used to use my foot. Crazy bastard has no right to be so good at drafting an air-tight contract, but at least he didn't want my virginity so who cares, you know?"

"Said he wanted me to give him a hand." Satilli shuddered in the midst of a memory. "Didn't think too much about it until he brought out the C-clamp and the bolt cutters."

"At least you don't have Meliza trying to take up every moment of free time you have. I had to bunk with the woman and I still have nightmares."

"Was it really that bad? I did train with her just the other day."

-o-

The club was jumping and Meliza, in her guise as 'Melissa' couldn't have asked for a more target-rich environment. This body was still tall, but only six-three when she was more used to seven feet, blue, and bearing vast tracts of plump T&A. Now she bore a glowing tan, restrained herself to a respectable H-cup, and other such human inadequacies. Dressed in a bandeau and a pair of shorts an inch or so off 'indecency' at any time, she sat at the bar sipping something sour and fluorescent green with as much chance of intoxicating her as cola.

Satilli was at her side, taking the part of the little sister who wasn't technically old enough to be in this establishment. That part of the story was important, since it would have been child's play to craft a fake ID card for the incubus, but that little bit of vulnerability was titillating to the human mind. Almost as titillating as the boy's similarly short shorts and the sweater: a touch which paired the coquettish with the pristine. The boy's hair was naturally pink, but on Meliza's advice had switched to a dark red to avoid unnecessary comparisons.

Colored hair had its day in the spotlight, and the wrong crowd to be associated with for a succubus had picked the practice up running.

He was cute, for the little sister role, and he'd gone to the trouble of growing himself some sub-A-cups to really sell that l'enfant aesthetic which set off some men. Though there was little enough market for an incubus, Satilli had been really proving his worth in the field. He didn't have the raw talent of Memirellin, whose pure beauty had been accentuated by attention-grabbing albinism and a slight, serpentine figure, but marks went for knobbly and girlish even if a tiny dick was waiting for them in the hotel room.

Meliza pointed with her pinky to a man dancing. "That one. Tell me why I'm choosing him."

"Okay, sis." Satilli had been rocking on the bar stool facing the dance floor all night so far, so he didn't have to conspicuously turn to look. "Little taller than average, so probably bigger cock since there's a correlation... Spanish I think, but mistress says they aren't all ladies men like they say... Attractive enough, square jaw, not much fat... Nice skin and glossy hair, so he's probably got healthy semen, but then there's those tight pants so maybe not..."

"You're overthinking it. What's he doing?"

"Dancing with a girl, looks African. We're going to steal him?" said Satilli.

Meliza tempered her expectations, the boy had only been an active incubus for a little while and she was teaching him after all. "He's four drinks deep and he's clenching his thighs. Only a matter of time until he-" The Spaniard had already excused himself from the dance floor and was making a bee-line for the bathroom. "Boy, I will see to the pitch, follow in twenty seconds and put your ear to the wall. If I'm right, we'll have this done soon enough, but put up a redirection barrier just in case."

She didn't clarify or wait for confirmation that the incubus would do as she said, that was a foregone conclusion. Instead, she swaggered through the crowd, swinging luscious, dark hips to tempt the hearts of men; well, not their hearts, per se, but she felt gazes turning to capture her beauty as she approached the door. Despite her occupation, Meliza didn't actually hate humans, and she had to admit that their appreciation of her fabricated looks felt nice, put a little pep in her step, but it was nothing compared to the ecstasy of pushing a man past his limits, no, leading him to push beyond of his own free will just to be with a girl like her.

The bathroom door opened and Meliza spread her fingers out on his chest, gently pushing him back inside with hungry eyes and licking plump, red lips. An amused smile played over his face and he went along with it all the way to the sink on the other side of the small room, waiting obediently as Meliza turned and locked the door, letting him take a good, long look at the curves of her ass. Turning back, she closed the distance with her tits pushed up just enough for them to be looked at without venturing into explicit territory; the idea was to lead the man, not to push him over into a pit of flesh.