Avarice, Inc. ch.2

Author's Note: Leraie gets a promotion -- and a chance reunion with the angel who gave it to her.

[story] [fu/F] [exhibitionism] [groping] [anal] [D/s]

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“You’re so beautiful, Leraie.” Those soft, husky whispers swirled in the air around her ears like honeyed song, dulling the demon-girl’s senses, her eyes drifting shut. Surrender – sweet, total surrender – seemed now to be not just tempting, but obvious. Those strong, smooth, bronze hands pinned her to the bed, those dark lips kissing up along her throat, to the tip of her pointed ear. She could feel every inch of her needy, naked body press up against the angel’s, feel that heavenly warmth, that comforting control. “What would I do without you?”

“Sachiel…” Leraie let out a little whisper of her own, only to have her lips stolen in a long kiss. Deep, firm, possessive, but… protective. She felt safe in the angel’s embrace, illuminated under the brilliant glow of her halo, silky fingers like feathered wings against her skin. She shivered as Sachiel pushed against her, into her, kissing her more fiercely now, yet no less lovingly. “Ahnn… ahh…!”

“Shh, darling,” those dark lips found her throat again, then down to her shoulder, collarbone, then back up to her lips as Sachiel thrust forward into her, filling her, Leraie’s legs spread easily apart to take the angel into her, their scandalous affair as forbidden as it was sweet… yet Leraie found it was all she’d ever wanted….

The demon’s fingers wandered down her own belly, drawn to the heat of her own smooth mound, touching it gently – a familiar sensation, once that had gotten her through many long workweeks – though the shiver of pleasure it brought felt… diminished, somehow. Faded by the intensity of something new and coveted. “Sachiel… nnh-hh, please, give it to me harder… do anything you want…” she whispered as her hand dipped lower, skipping her womanhood altogether to prod against the hole just below it, the one the angel had so clearly favored, the one that had brought Leraie to heights of sexual ecstasy she’d never before felt. One finger, then a second, eased into her tight asshole, working them in as deeply as she was able before she had to roll over on to her side.

The dream – or fantasy, perhaps – of the angel atop her began to flicker in and out of clarity as Leraie’s thoughts turned more to her own physical needs, though she grasped still to the thoughts and feelings she’d been dwelling on. That protective warmth, that firm, caring touch, so different than her encounter with Sepher Sachiel had actually gone. What rang true in her mind as well as her body, though, was the pleasure, and that pleasure’s source. Leraie forced a third finger into her back entrance, pushing all three digits as deeply as she could manage before beginning to slowly pump them in and out, in and out, biting down hard on her own pillow as she attempted to fingerfuck herself into an anal orgasm, intentionally neglecting her pussy just as Sachiel had. What was it the angel had said? “I don’t want to fuck your pussy. I want to fuck your tight little asshole.”

Remembering the words, the flutter in her stomach when she’d first heard them, was all it needed to finally drive Leraie over the edge, burying her face into her pillow completely as an intense burst of pleasure radiated out from her belly, to the tips of her fingers and toes, leaving the entirety of her pale, waifish body a shivering wreck for close to a full minute before she finally relaxed. This was the third, maybe fourth time she’d woken up this way in the past month, and it was far from the only way her encounter with the Angel of Charity had altered the course of her life.

After a few moments to catch her breath, the demon rolled sideways out of bed, dragging her exhausted body to the bathroom and getting into the shower. For the average working demon, rest was perhaps the Greed Circle’s most valuable resource, something nobody ever got quite enough of, but the hot water raining down on her did its part in waking Leraie up. Tired eyes stared into the obsidian shower floor, water draining into some unfathomable abyss where it was used to torment hydrophobic sinners, and Leraie contemplated the last few weeks.

Shortly after her encounter with Sachiel, she’d gotten a mysterious promotion to Senior Asset Manager, with not even her immediate higher-ups understand where the promotion had come from, or why. Leraie, of course, was able to make an educated guess when she found that her roomy new office was set suspiciously close to the elevator leading to (or most commonly, from) Heaven, though the visit she’d expected had never come. Instead, she was left in a state of wondering and wanting, a sort of interrupted desire that left her frustrated and anxious – and, on top of that, she had work.

Or, more specifically, she had meetings. She’d had work in her old position, managing contracts and assets, taking calls, dealing with supervisors, negotiating incentives for greater yields and finding ways to cut costs. It had been boring work, but it required some sort of actual effort, at least. Now, it seemed like everything was about communication. She had meetings with bosses, meetings with employees, meetings about assets or mid-season earnings goals, meetings about other meetings. Many in person, some over the phone, some across screens, some with translators, even a few with correspondences from Heaven… though none, yet, with Sachiel. Until today.

That’s what the itinerary said, anyway. The meeting specifically concerned the succubus contracts that she and Sachiel had initially met over, with several invested parties gathering to discuss what had become something of a complicated matter. According to the briefing, Olivia Roland – the teenage witch who’d managed to bind not one, but three succubi to her service permanently – would not actually be attending, but one of her successfully ensorcelled demon-brides would be.

Monday. The concept hadn’t even existed until Hell decided to go corporate. Before that, for a demon, every day was the same – who gave a shit what day some nordic heathens or roman politicians had named after themselves or those they worshipped? It was all the same. Now, though, the rigid seven-day workweek was a special nightmare all its own, encouraging laborers to spend their few moments away from work trying to forget they had a job at all, making their inevitable return all the more miserable. Leraie didn’t get many days off, anymore – technically, she never had – but last night had been one of her few moments of peace. How quickly it all came crashing back down when it was time to suit up and go to another fucking meeting.

Stumbling out of the shower, Leraie dressed herself lazily in a black pencil skirt, light gray blouse, and dark purple blazer, foregoing a tie, hose, or indeed, even panties at all – the latter detail partly out of a genuine lack of impetus, and partly out of anticipation of her reunion with Sachiel. She remained of two minds on the angel; Sachiel had violated her, yes. Made her feel small and insignificant. But she’d also made Leraie feel… desired, valued. Small and insignificant she was used to, those were just a part of every day life at Avarice Inc. What Sachiel had made her feel was different, and even as part of her recoiled at how humiliating it would be to be treated the way the angel had treated her in public, another part hoped that the two would find private time to… make one another’s feelings known.

While Hell’s higher-ups were making a big push to design and implement personal vehicles (allowing for farther commutes, more individual spending, and if possible, a worse environment), they hadn’t quite been rolled out yet, so Leraie did what she always did and took the shuttle to work. Behind her, she left the tight-packed and tall-stacked cluster of doors that made up the near infinite mini-apartments of Greed’s working class. Not so much a home as a place to sleep, since she didn’t have any free time. Didn’t need much more in it than a bed, a bathroom, and a few feet of space to walk between them.

The shuttle was cramped and rickety as always, stuffed with office workers just like Leraie who were trying to summon the will to live to work their morning shift – which of course was also the day, evening, and potentially night shift. Not a single happy face to be seen, when you could see their faces at all through the horns, feathers, scabs, motes of red light, clusters of eyes, or other such exotic ‘features’ that so many demons sported. Leraie’s tiny horns and pointed ears were certainly mundane by those standards, but she felt no regret over her more ‘human-like’ appearance. It had caught Sachiel’s eye, after all – ugh, she had to stop thinking about that damn angel!

The trip was blessedly short, and Leraie made her way up to her office, checking her namebadge, clocking in, and setting a pot of coffee to get made before the meeting properly started, which was close to half an hour from her arrival.

“Hey, Leraie!” a newly-familiar face slithered into view where Leraie tiredly made coffee, in the open, vulnerable space beyond the safety of her office. The speaker, of course, was Kimaris, another former marquis who’d fought alongside Leraie in the old wars. Beside his long, powerful black horse-legs, Kimaris was also rather human-looking, with dark skin, short-cropped hair and piercing pink eyes. He’d been making passes at Leraie since her promotion, and while he was good-looking enough, her thoughts were very much occupied elsewhere. “You got that memo last night, yeah?”

“Night? I don’t know, everything blends together,” Leraie grumbled, praying for the coffee maker to start making a little faster so she could get out of this situation.

“Ooooh, you might wanna check it out, or I can just tell you–”

“Please don’t.”

“–It’s just that tomorrow’s meeting actually got pushed to this afternoon, okay? So we’ve got the meeting with the Roland business, then right after that is gonna be a chat with some Pride-circle big-wigs who have some questions about extraction emissions, alright? Really wanna get those things as high as possible so you may wanna prep some good pitches for less environmentally-friendly roadmap. Understand what I’m saying?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to prep for a meeting when I’m in the middle of another meeting?” Leraie snapped, about 10% more aggressive than she meant to sound.

“Whoa-hoa-hoah! Cool your jets, missy, I’m just the messenger! Yeesh, looks like somebody’s got a case of the Mondays.” Kimaris threw his hands up innocently, turning and making his way back to his office, the heavy clop, clop, clop of his hooves letting everyone on the floor know exactly when he’d finally sat back down.

“I don’t have a case of– ugh.” Leraie grit her teeth, set herself back to making coffee, and finally made her way to her office. Annoyed was usually not the best way to start off the day, but maybe it beat exhausted and sexually frustrated by just a hair. With about ten minutes to spare, she downed about half the contents of her ‘Hell’s Greatest Big Sister’ mug, gathered the notes was meant to bring, touched up her makeup, and then spent a solid five minutes staring at the back wall of her office, just… doing nothing. An instant where she didn’t have anything to do. It felt like an hour, just fixing her big, icy blue eyes on the white plaster. Just doing nothing.

Finally, she sucked in a deep breath, grabbed her things, and made her way to the conference room, setting down her folders and her mug. Two people had already shown up: the first was Azafel, one of the succubi that had been bound to servitude to a human witch, here on her ‘mistress’s’ authority. She was all scarlet skin and onyx hair, sumptuous curves, burning green eyes. The kind of woman a teenage boy would conjure in his mind. The second was the mass of tongues and feathers known as Raum, Leraie’s old boss – she’d hoped her promotion would mean she never had to see Raum again, but if anything, she saw them more now, just on a more equal footing. “Morning,” Leraie said cautiously, taking her seat at the far end of the ovoid, smoky glass table.

“Glad to see you could make it,” Raum said, an edge of sarcasm in their voice that sets me on edge, but I ignore them.

Over the next few minutes, five more people arrive, taking their seats. There was Andras, appearing as a pale naked man with two heads, that of an owl and a raven. Botis, a massive brown viper with narrow eyes and sagging jowls, behind whom hovered two brightly-colored swords. Amy, bespectacled and flame-haired, with a shy, waifish beauty despite him being as much a man as Kimaris. Finally, though Leraie recognized these three from having worked with them before, there were two more she’d never seen (presumably working with another firm). One was a waspish woman with a crown of dying flowers, and the other a mild-seeming fellow who dripped a thin, milky liquid from his eyes and mouth. She’d have to have the place steam-cleaned after the meeting.

“Alright, now that it looks like everyone’s present, we can–”

“Not everyone, darling.” The door to the conference room swung open once more, Leraie’s heart leaping as the silver-haired angel strides in, her old white suit replaced by one of bright scarlet, her undershirt done away with altogether, and her feet likewise bare. Just as tall, confident, and beautiful as last I saw her. Sepher Sachiel. “Sorry. Fashionably late. The elevator’s been slow, lately, and – oh my, it looks like all the seats are taken, doesn’t it?”

Leraie blinked, quickly scanning the room. The table was surrounded by eight uncomfortable steel-legged chairs, and indeed, all eight of them were full. “Ah, my apologies, here, let me go grab you a–”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about me, you yummy little thing,” Sachiel ran her tongue over the front of her teeth, stalking toward the slight, raven-haired demongirl like a hunting cat – and perching just beside and behind Leraie, towering ominously over her. “I’ll just sit here where I can see everything. Looks like you’ve got the best seat in the room, don’t you?”

“WelL, miNe aLso haS a gOod vieW Of tHe tabLe–” Botis gurgled from the table’s other far end.

“And I didn’t ask for your input, did I?” Sachiel countered instantly, unhidden daggers in her voice. One of her hands went to Leraie’s shoulders, giving it a firm, possessive squeeze that made the lithe demon almost moan out loud. “I’m just where I want to be. Now, I believe Azafel has an opening statement she’s prepared, correct?”

“Mmh… correct,” the succubus said, her usual seductive swagger somewhat dispelled in this aggressively sterile setting. She shifted awkwardly in her seat, glancing down at a piece of parchment she’d brought with her, refreshing herself on its contents. “Right, so – I’m here representing my mistress, her desires, and what concessions she is and is not willing to make regarding the services and… autonomy… of Lilitu, Empera, and myself. I have in this opening statement, some things that are completely off the table, that I have not been given permission to even consider during this discussion. Firstly, my client, Olivia Roland, refuses to exchange ownership of her soul to any party, for any reason. Furthermore….”

While it was quite literally Leraie’s job to be paying attention to this, she found herself incurably distracted by the angel’s presence just behind her. The fact that she could feel her, but not see her, presented a distraction so overwhelming as to render Azafel’s words into muffled gibberish in her ears. Not a single bit of information was being absorbed except for the feeling of Sachiel’s hand on her shoulder, gripping her tenderly, gold-nailed fingers starting to dig a little more firmly into Leraie’s skin. Again, she was forced to bite back a moan – a temptation that only grew stronger when that hand slipped subtly forward, underneath Leraie’s jacket, to cup one of the demon-girl’s small breasts through her shirt, beginning to firmly massage it with her palm.

“Mmph…” Leraie struggled not to whimper, her legs immediately clamping shut against each other in her seat. Waves of excitement coursed through her as Sachiel boldly fondled her breast, making no attempt to hide her actions, but nor calling any specific attention to them. The angel’s fingers kneaded and teased until she found one of Leraie’s nipples through the thin fabric of her blouse, taking it between thumb and forefinger and rubbing it back and forth, gently at first – then slowly squeezing, not enough to cause much pain, but enough to make Leraie visibly squirm.

“...That other contracts can be carried out, as long as my mistress recieves a suitable share of the profits, in a form realistic to use as legal tender on Earth.” Azafel finished. “I give the floor to all of you.”

While Andras’s owl head slowly rotated, glaring at everyone in the room in turn, the raven head spoke. “Now, Azafel–”

“AY-za-fel, not AZZ-a-fel.”

“Yes, right, Azafel, with these terms in mind, it seems unlikely that your client has, errm, considered the potential….”

Leraie tried to keep her breathing steady as Sachiel began to unbutton the front of her blazer, pulling one panel to the side, then undoing the top few buttons of her blouse, fulling baring one of the demon-girl’s breasts for all present to see. Fortunately, no one had yet to comment on Leraie’s current state of… molestation… and she knew that any attempt to prevent Sachiel’s actions would only draw greater attention to them. So, her cheeks reddening, she just squirmed in her seat, a spot of wetness on her skirt growing larger and larger as Sachiel pinched and teased at her nipple in between full-handed gropes at her bared tit. Leraie’s breathing picked up, her mouth falling open without her even realizing it – and, after only a moment, two of the angel’s fingers slid past her lips, pushing deeply into her mouth. Just deep enough that Leraie had to concentrate on not gagging, the events of the meeting once more falling on entirely deaf ears.

So abruptly that it managed to coax a tiny squeak from her, Leraie felt teeth at the tip of her ear, nibbling, then suckling, then a whisper from behind: “I’ve been waiting to play with you again for a long time, sweetheart,” Sachiel purred, stuffing her fingers a little deeper into Leraie’s mouth, making her whimper, her eyes watering a little. “Nod if you’ve been waiting to play with me, too.”

Horrified, Leraie’s eyes quickly scanned the conference room. If nobody had noticed before, they had now, and while Andras was still laying out a spreadsheet of his own earnings plan, he commanded only around 70% of the room’s attention. Glances kept being tossed over to Leraie and Sachiel before returning to the task at hand, and while no comments had been made, the angel’s fondling had been well and truly taken note of. Nonetheless, Leraie nodded her head slowly, stifling another whimper as she grew ever wetter, her tongue beginning to slither and spiral messily around Sachiel’s bronze fingers.

“That’s a good girl.” Sachiel whispered again, nibbling at the lobe of Leraie’s ear now, then licking slowly up along her throat, making the poor demon shiver. “Do you think they like the way your tits look, little hellspawn? I love them.” With another smooth, confident movement, she opened Leraie’s jacket all the way, exposing both small, perky tits completely a golden fingernail scraping affectionately along one aching pink nipple.

“Mmmph… mmmhhm…?” Leraie groaned around the angel’s fingers, stifling her gag reflex once more, her body craving the angel despite her anxiety in such a public setting. Oddly, she didn’t fear for her job in the slightest – her last meeting with Sachiel had gotten her an immediate promotion, so it was highly unlikely that she’d be fired for doing as the angel insisted. All she feared was the way her other peers would perceive her, and, indeed, how they no doubt perceived her now. If she just didn’t listen, if she just shut them out….

“...I think I have a few suggestions I could make,” Amy mused, straightening his delicate glasses atop his button nose, clearing his throat. “But I’d need a bit more familiarity with the exact nature of these contracts, and whether or not editing would be necessary – or possible – for Ms. Roland’s suggestion to be plausible. Leraie, I believe you would be the woman to speak to regarding these specifics?”

Sachiel’s fingers left the demon’s mouth before she had a chance to splutter, though she did suck in a brief gasp before trying to compose herself, both of the angel’s hands now massaging her exposed breasts. “Guh– I, um, yes, you’re… hah… y-you’re exactly right,” Leraie swallowed hard, her face as red as Cerberus’ leftmost tongue. “Exactly, and… absolutely… r-right. I’ve got some folders right here that I can go through as soon as I can–”

“I’m tired of standing,” Sachiel interrupted with a wistful sigh. “Leraie, sweetheart, why don’t you pop up a moment so I can take your seat. Don’t worry – you can sit right back down in my lap and give your little dissertation.”

“We do have extra chairs outside,” Raum said, “I really must insist that we–”

“Must you?” Sachiel countered, the light of her halo growing bright and wrathful. “Must you indeed, Raum, Thief of King’s Houses? Or shall you sit silent while your betters do as they will?”

Raum let out a defeated warble, and uttered not another word.

Meanwhile, Leraie swallowed hard, standing up as Sachiel had suggested. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she coos, leaning down to give the demon’s cheek a gentle kiss, then sitting down in the pre-dampened chair, legs spread and – as the demon glimpsed just before sitting back down – her flared red trousers unzipped in the front. She had an inkling of what was about to happen, but said nothing, and instead did as she was instructed, sitting down in the angel’s lap, then straightening her folders and preparing to address the room from her newly-elevated position.

“Right, so,” Leraie began, shuffling through her folders to find the correct ‘first’ one, trying to ignore the feeling of her heart pounding in her chest, the warmth of Sachiel’s lap beneath her. This would be difficult considering she’d barely listened to a word of what anyone had said up until now – it was rare she was actually called upon to do anything at all these stupid meetings, and she found herself quite unused to it. “There are some clauses in the, ah… o-original contracts that haven’t really been brought up so far, that I think are, u-uhm, important to… to go over before we make any decisions,” she said, opening the first folder to bring up a draft of the contracts themselves, and her own notes on them.

“Mmn, no panties, you bad thing. Did you know I was coming?” Sachiel whispered into her ear, fingers hiking Leraie’s pencil skirt up around her hips, her smooth, soaked slit just barely obscured by the opaque glass tabletop. Leraie shuddered as she felt something warm and big press up against her butt, nearly fully hard already, the angel beginning to grind insistently upward against the demon-girl’s tight ass and slim thighs, searching for the entrance she so prized.

“ForeMOSttt–” Leraie paused, swallowed, tried again. “F-foremost, that by the letter of these contracts and the parameters of Ms. Roland’s spell, the, um, t-the assets – Azafel, Empera, and Lilitu – have not actually had their contracts broken. While they are indeed bound to servitude to Ms. Roland, they are also legally still employed by Avarice Inc.’s Negotations and Acquisitions Department, hereby referred to as the NAD, which… w-which means that….”

Leraie bit her lower lip hard, eyes watering as Sachiel’s cock finally found its target, pushing firmly up against Leraie’s tight, needy asshole. As before, Sachiel was anything but patient, nor was she horribly subtle, letting out a hiss of pleasure as she forced her massive rod directly up Leraie’s butt, however valiantly it tried to resist. “Nnnh… there we go,” the angel murmured, letting out a sigh of delight as the demon’s light weight gradually sunk farther and farther down on its thick, throbbing invader.

“Wh-… w-which means that, ah… f-fuck… that if Ms. Roland w-wishes to negotiate under the… t-the auspices of demonic corporate law…” Leraie shuddered, a sudden spasm rolling through her slim figure as she struggled to focus. How in the world was she expected to concentrate with Sachiel’s thick, juicy cock sliding up her ass, stretching her lonely hole around it, filling her with so much pulsating warmth she could feel it behind her belly button? How could she talk about this… this bullshit, when she was being so overwhelmed with pleasure she could barely keep her eyes open? Her exposed nipples were rock-hard, cheeks flushed, eyeliner running, her untouched pussy absolutely dripping, everyone’s eyes on her as Sachiel anally mounted her like a mermaid figurehead at the prow of a sailing ship. She swallowed, pushing down a little harder in Sachiel’s lap, trembling and biting back a moan when she finally felt her butt hit the angel’s thighs – every inch of that massive cock was stuffed in her ass now, right where it belonged. “Then, ahh, inherently she admits that the… t-the assets are still formally under our employ, and that their services are owed, not something that can be – nngh! – b-bartered with!”

“Hmm. A noteworthy discovery.” Amy mused aloud. “If I may have a look at the contracts?”

“Y-yes! They’re… uh-h, I… I highlighted the relevant segments, so… phhhnn…” Leraie shoved the folder with one hand toward the fire-haired lad, her other hand dipped low so that she could squeeze Sachiel’s own, clinging tight to her as her own hips began to rock back and forth, her feet scrambling to find some adequate leverage, ultimately pinning one of her shoes to the edge of the table and allowing the other leg to dangle, chewing at her lip and focusing on the overwhelming surges of pleasure that distracted and delighted her with every thrust of the angel’s hard dick into her ass. She barely even noticed all the eyes lingering on her, now, it didn’t seem that important – let them watch if they wanted to watch so badly. If she kept this up, she’d cum before the meeting was even up, and be on her way to round two. Now, that was all that mattered.

As soon as the others went back to discussing matters amongst themselves, Leraie let her mind go completely blank, leaning back against Sachiel and slowly, sensuously riding her, easing her hips up, then dropping back down, dragging the tight tunnel of her backdoor back and forth against the thick angelcock stuffing it. Her eyes drifted shut, slim figure beginning to take up a slow rhythm that was met by shallow thrusts from the angel herself. Each drop downward saw a pleasant jiggle to her exposed tits, her mouth now agape and her breathing heavy, the front fold of her skirt concealing the majority of her untouched pussy, though a glimpse of her dick-stuffed ass could be spotted by those paying close attention.

“I knew you were worth keeping,” Sachiel purred, pushing up deeper, harder, hands locking firmly into place around Leraie’s hips, holding her firm so she could ram up into that tight, slick, warm little hole. “You’re so beautiful, Leraie.”

“You’re so beautiful, Leraie.”

As the angel echoed her dream, something feral awakened inside of the demon-girl’s heart. Whether it was knowing or not, the fact that Sachiel even remembered her name brought Leraie back to this morning, to those intense feelings just before waking. That desire to give herself to the angel, to be pinned and used. Leraie let out a low, anxious moan as she pushed down harder than ever, slamming her hips down a few rapid, desperate times, her ass swallowing that fat cock again and again until she finally felt something unleash within her, felt the dam break and a massive wave of an anal orgasm rip through her, on full display for everyone to see. “AaaaAAUUuggh–!” she bit of a climactic shriek, physically biting down on her own hand to keep from crying out as she rode her way through her assgasm. The angel pounded up into her, deeper and harder, eager to make the most of Leraie’s moment of complete surrender, hips clapping against the hapless wageslave’s cute little butt – until finally she, too, let loose.

Leraie swallowed back another moan, but felt her lashes flutter and her eyes roll back as countless hot glugs of angelcum shot up into her asshole, filling her belly with a warm glow that only extended the duration and intensity of her orgasm. For several moments afterward, all she could do was twitch, completely ignorant of the meeting or anything else. Lost in an abyss of anal pleasure, in the literal arms of an angel.

“So… I’ll have my secretary draft up a return offer for you to take to Ms. Roland.” The first words Leraie heard when she returned to her senses. Raum’s voice. “I’ll have it faxed to you by Thursday morning, if that’s all right, and we can schedule another meeting regarding the issue on Sunday. By the way, Leraie, I know it’s usually your day off, but we are gonna need you to come in early Sunday morning for that, mmkay?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” the door to the conference room swung open, revealing the horse-legged visage of Kimaris. “Hopefully things are about wrapped here, next meeting’s in ten minutes, guys!”

Leraie swallowed with a dry throat. Disheveled, half-naked, barely-conscious, her asshole literally dripping with cum, and totally unprepared for the next meeting’s subject. Cool. Looking over her shoulder at Sachiel, who she remained mounted on, the demon let out a weak-voiced murmur: “I don’t suppose you have another promotion that can get me out of this, do you…?”