Thirteenth Seduction

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"The devil horns were bad enough, but did I have to wear the tail?" Eisheth picked up the fake red tail with the pointed tip, and held it like it was a rotting fish.

"What's wrong with the tail?" He watched her ass move down the sidewalk, toward Janice's Upper East Side townhouse. Her heels ticked and tocked with each step, and her round hips swayed back in forth in rhythm like a sexy metronome.

"It's like making a witch carry a broomstick, or forcing a vampire to wear a cape. It conforms to the most trite stereotypes about us. I find it degrading."

"Yeah, but degrading you gets me all hot." Michael was in the first good mood he had felt for almost a year, and flirting with Eisheth on her last night on either Hell or Earth seemed to be the least he could do.

"Does it now?" She gave him a sly grin, and twirled the tail as she walked. "I like the rest of the costume."

He hadn't put her in the bikini-clad pornographic-fantasy-of-a-succubus that had been Taylor's last image on Earth — that costume would have gotten them kicked out of Janice's party. No, this was a more uptown succubus — one who knew her Gucci from her Prada. Perfectly fitted red-leather pants, a red corset, and a short black leather jacket that just hinted at wings. The red ankle-boots really were Gucci — or at least Michael had shown her the picture before Eisheth had conjured them out of thin air.

Michael himself was dressed as the Devil himself, complete with a pitchfork, a red cape, and a set of horns and a tail that matched those worn by Eisheth.

Of course, they had no invitation, so Eisheth simply worked her charms on the doorman, and they were quickly inside.

Michael had no problem scanning the faces in the living room, as every one of them, male and female alike, had turned toward Eisheth. He felt like the Invisible Man, as no one looked at him, and he realized he had been wrong about her getting them kicked out of the party if she had dressed as Taylor's version of a succubus. Eisheth could have walked in stark naked, and lacking Michael's sigil, no one would have had the willpower to deny her anything.

He could see the exposed lust on the faces of New York's financial elite. A model who Michael recognized from the pages of Victoria's Secret clutched her boyfriend, a Vice President from Morgan Stanley, tighter and pressed her pelvis against his hip, glancing at him as if to say, "You wanted to bring another woman into bed? Her. It's her or no one."

A fifty year old female investment banker, who also invested in cosmetic surgery, had her hand to the best enhanced bosom that money could buy. She was idly caressing her own skin, as if reconsidering her decision that her college lesbian days were just an experiment.

A recent Forbes cover boy - a hot shot hedge fund manager, had a reputation as a womanizer, and was staring at Eisheth as if he would have traded every one of his conquests for just one second between Eisheth's legs.

The deputy mayor, four CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, dozens of trophy wives, and a US Senator all looked at Eisheth with a hunger that said they would throw away every dollar they owned — every modicum of power they possessed — their very lives themselves — just to have her.

Eisheth soaked it all up, preening, winking, throwing a come hither here, and bedroom eyes there. She eyed the room like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet after a monthlong starvation diet, which Michael realized was exactly the truth.

He felt a sense of panic rising. If he didn't get this under control soon, there would be a mass-murder-slash-gang-bang among the rich and powerful that couldn't help but attract an unsurvivable amount of attention — and even more importantly — wreck his plans for the night.

He turned on Eisheth. "You said you would keep it under control."

"This is keeping it under control, honey. It's just been sooo long, and I am sooo horny. Do you want to see me really show what I can do?" Her grin broadened, showing the sharp teeth that so unsettled him, and her hands rose above her head as her hips began to sway.

Michael heard a collective intake of breath around the room, and headed off mass destruction by throwing his cape over her head.

The spell was broken. The partiers blinked, and continued with their conversations as if no interruption had occurred. Michael did notice large bulges in the pants of the men, and flushed faces and erect nipples poking through thin dress fabric of many of the women. He knew there would be some interesting sexual experimentation and fantasies roleplayed at home tonight for many of the people here, even if they didn't know why.

"Oh, poo," he heard Eisheth say from under his cape.

With Eisheth's distraction gone, Michael himself was getting some attention now. Janice had landed on her feet after the Lehman collapse. She had many connections in the world of finance, and had escaped from the mess to a Vice Presidential position at Goldman Sachs. Michael recognized some of her Goldman cronies around the room, and he could tell by their furrowed brows and frowns that they recognized him.

"Let's move. We need to find Janice."

"Okay. I will lead the way." Eisheth, still blinded by the cape, seemed to purposefully head in the direction of what Michael knew must be a priceless vase.

Michael grabbed her by the arm, and steered her up the stairs. Once he had located a bedroom, he merely waited outside. He knew her cronies would report his presence to Janice, and she would be along soon.

More than any other person, Michael blamed Janice for his fall. The two of them had been hired at around the same time, and went through the trainee program together.

Janice embodied a look that Michael liked to call "power slut". She radiated sex appeal in business attire, and knew how to use it. Michael never resented that. It was only natural to try to advance with the set of talents you had, and Janice had brains to match her looks. What he resented was her refusal to sleep with him.

"Michael, you are married," she had said, with a fake smile.

"So was Perkins."

"Perkins's wife asked me to bed at the same time Perkins did. I don't see Courtney anywhere in the room. Should we call her? If she is game, so am I." Janice reached for the phone. Courtney was a member of Janice's sales team, and Janice knew her office number by heart.

Michael had stopped her.

Both Michael and Janice had been rising stars. Michael had been the financial innovator, slicing and dicing the aggregated mortgages of America, repackaging them into new types of securities, pricing them, and setting them loose upon the world. Janice had been the top seller in the company, rising quickly to management. She had started feeling the heat from Lehman clients as the rumors of a collapse spread.

When the shit hit the fan, both had been in the conference room.

"If sales had just pushed these things better, we wouldn't have this problem," Michael had said.

Janice went ballistic. "Don't you dare blame my team! We sold these pieces of shit with you telling us they were diamonds. Now even the triple As are cratering and we are stuck with the junk!"

"This isn't the time for blame..." Jack had began, but he looked away from Michael when he said it, as did everyone else in the room, and he knew he was dead.

They had decided to make him the fall guy, protecting their own consciences. They had been perfectly happy to celebrate him and praise him when he was making them money hand over fist. They had been only too thrilled to look the other way when he bullied the finance department into pushing the losses forward off the books for a full year. Janice had turned everyone against him. It had been her.

He felt the anger of the righteous curdling his stomach as he saw her at the top of the stairs, dressed as a ballerina. She gave Eisheth the once over, seeing only a pair of great legs in expensive shoes concealed by a cape. "Michael, they told me you were here. I didn't invite you, and I would prefer not to make a scene, but I will if you force the issue. Take your skank with the legs and get out of here, and I won't call the police."

"Skank? Oh, I like her," said Eisheth, lowering the cape from her head, showing her sharp-toothed grin. "I like her a lot."

At the sight of Eisheth, Janice was transfixed, her mouth opened just wide enough to lick her lips. "Oh", was all she could say.

Eisheth sidled up next to her and placed her arms around Janice's delicate neck. "Sweetie, you will be saying that a lot louder and more often before the night is through."

Mike pushed open the door to the bedroom. "Janice, do you remember how you always wanted a threesome with me and Courtney? I think you will agree that Eisheth is an upgrade, so now you get a chance to have that fantasy come to life."

Janice could only nod dumbly, lost to herself as her eyes roamed over Eisheth's lips, breasts, and hips.

Eisheth, however, snapped her head in his direction, a look of alarm on her face. "What do you mean threesome? You are joining in?"

"Haven't you always wanted me to?"

Eisheth's smile looked fake. "Of course! You have the most tragic case of sexual frustration in history, and nothing would please me more to watch you get your release, except for having you inside me when you do it." Now her smile looked real. "But why did you change your mind tonight? I don't think this one is quite right for you. Isn't Courtney living in the Midwest somewhere? We can drive out there and find her."

"No, I think Janice is perfect for this. Tonight is perfect." He smiled back at her. If he himself had sharpened cuspids, they would be showing.

Eisheth's face fell. "You know," she whispered.

"Yes, I know."

"Don't do this," Eisheth pleaded, desperate now. "I was joking about your being damned. You can make me laugh, and I have seen you be kind. There is hope for you, Michael. I know desire. This isn't what you want."

"You do know desire, but you also know lies. You know that if I succeed, you die."

Eisheth's eyes opened slightly in surprise. She hung her head, and when she spoke, it was a whisper. "You know this, and still want to complete the ritual?"

"You have been trying to kill me for a year. Why shouldn't I return the favor?"

"Because you have a choice." Eisheth raised her eyes to his, and he saw steel and fire within them. "Alright Michael, let's find out how strong you are. You know that by participating, the power of my sigil on your arm is weakened, and you will be right next to me. The more aroused I get, the more powerful I am." Her smile was a challenge. "I may be strong enough to take you."

"I have always been stronger than you thought. Why are you telling me this?"

"I just thought you should have a choice." Eisheth turned back to Janice and smiled. "Come along sweetie." She then lead her prey into the bedroom.

Michael followed and locked the door. When he turned, Eisheth was removing Janice's clothes, while Janice trembled and gasped at every touch.

Eisheth saw him watching. "You see the effect I have on her?" She removed Janice's leotard. Janice was small-breasted and hadn't needed to wear a bra — Eisheth stepped behind her, and reached around to cup both breasts, rolling each nipple between her thumbs and forefingers. Janice responded by leaning into Eisheth's touch and turning her neck to seek a kiss, which Eisheth enthusiastically provided, stopping only to taunt Michael. "Do you really think you can resist?" One of Eisheth's hands slid down Janice's stomach, her fingers seeking out the cleft of Janice's legs. "Watch, I can make her come just by touching."

"Stop!" Michael commanded.

Eisheth glared at him but obeyed. He could never understand the vagaries of her obedience, and Eisheth had refused to explain. The only insight Taylor's books had provided was a cryptic sentence that the rules binding succubi were as capricious as their whims.

Janice mewled in frustration as Eisheth stepped away. Janice reached for her, but Eisheth merely held her hand.

"So, Michael, how do you want to do this? I know! How about she rides your cock while I sit on your face! I have wanted to feel your tongue licking me for too long, and if this is to be my last night in existence, don't you owe me my one last fantasy? You won't believe what I taste like. It doesn't taste like anything to me when I lick my own juices off a man's cock, but others say it tastes like their favorite flavor in the world - fresh-squeezed orange juice, peppermint, pinot noir. One French aristocrat said I tasted like snails in garlic sauce. I tried to take it as a compliment."

Michael sensed a trap. Eisheth was always trying to get him to touch her — to taste her, with the promise that it didn't need to lead to climax unless he wanted it to. He was convinced that this was why he had survived her advances for a year while all others who had tried to walk this path had succumbed. To touch her was to play her game — to walk her path, and it lead to inexorable destruction. He would walk his own, instead.

"Nice try, but I don't think so."

"Michael, I have to be involved sexually, or it doesn't count."

Janice was in heat. Her hands and mouth explored Eisheth's body. Janice's mouth nibbled Eisheth's clavicle as if it were an ear of corn. Eiseth seemed to enjoy the attention and tilted her head to grant better access.

"Involved how?" Michael asked.

"One of my orifices or hands has to be in contact with her mouth or pussy when she comes." Eisheth chose to emphasize the point by taking Janice's face in her hands and giving her lips a hungry kiss.

Michael had grown used to constant erections around Eisheth, but now he felt himself throbbing as he watched Janice pinch Eisheth's nipple between her fingers, squeezing so hard that Janice's fingertips turned white and the nipple turned red. Eisheth responded with a gasp and goosebumps. Stay focused. "So, when you suggested riding my face while I fucked her until I came? Who would have been taken, me or her?"

Eisheth took her face away from Janice's, and brought her thumb to her mouth to chew on it, while her lips widened in a guilty smile. "Oops."

Janice was now biting gently on Eisheth's nipple, pulling it into her mouth.

I need to finish this. "Have her lie on her back. You can sit on her face while I fuck her."

Janice hadn't seemed to be listening, but now her mouth opened in a sigh at the prospect of pleasing Eisheth. Janice's hand slid across the curve of Eisheth's hip to touch the succubus's pussy.

"Do it. Now," Michael insisted.

Eisheth rolled her eyes and looked down at Janice. "Look at him, so eager to stick his cock in you. You would think he hasn't been able to come for a year, or something."

Janice actually laughed as Eisheth laid her on the bed.

Michael snarled as he removed his clothes. He knew he needed to move fast or Eisheth would find a way to evade his orders and take Janice without him. They were already kissing again, with Janice's fingers fluttering rapidly between Eisheth's legs, causing the succubus to writhe underneath her.

Despite her obvious euphoria, Eisheth found the time to taunt him. "Ooh, Michael is naked. Michael never lets me see him naked. I think he knows what it might inspire me to greater power — he knows that one look at that raging cock of his, and my pussy turns to pudding for him. Don't you think so, Janice? Have you seen Michael's cock? How long do you think it is? Seven inches?"

Janice didn't even look up. "Seven and a half. Courtney told me."

"Why would Courtney leave a specimen like that? Maybe he doesn't know how to use it. "

Michael refused to rise to the bait. He had never had a shortage of women requesting a repeat performance, and he was above such petty taunts. "Janice, spread your legs."

Janice ignored him.

Eisheth patted her on the cheek. "Janice, sweetie, you need to spread your legs so he can try to convince himself that Courtney didn't leave him because he is a lousy fuck."

He knew what she was trying to do — suck his confidence to disable his performance. Did she really not see how useless that was? All Michael had to do was look at Eisheth and he was on the cusp of orgasm. Still, she was angering him. "This is intolerable. No more belittlements. No more trying to interfere with me. You are bound to me until your imminent death. I watch you. You always try to make other's go out experiencing heaven in their final moments. Is this really what you want for yourself?"

Eisheth half-smiled. "Of course, Michael, I obey all your commands. All you needed to do was ask."

What the fuck? He had been ranting, expecting her to ignore him. Had he ever ordered her to stop before? He remembered complaining, asking, hinting, and insulting her back, but had he ever ordered her? Fuck. "You mean that if I had wanted to come any time in the last year, all I had to do was tell you to stop interfering?"

Her smile was broad now. "Of course, Michael. How would i know your wishes otherwise? You seemed to enjoy watching me without doing anything about it."

Blind rage filled his senses and his fingernails dug deep into the flesh of his clenched hands. He had stopped hitting up the bars, or using the booty call list of all the girls who had given their numbers while he was married to Courtney. He had stopped masturbating, as he could get no release without Eisheth appearing to interfere with him — all while being sexually taunted by a woman who would normally have driven him to wet dreams every night with her impossible tits, perfect waist, fuckable ass, and an instinct to get off on every degradation he could imagine for her - and Michael could imagine many. And all he needed to do was ask?

She could read his expression and was silently laughing at him, but she had underestimated him again. He walked toward the bed, and forced Janice's legs apart on his own, noting with a complete lack of surprise that her pussy lips were already sopping and swollen from mere proximity to Eisheth.

Eisheth saw his intent, and sat up. She could have chosen to turn her back to Michael, but of course she did not. She spread her legs wide and lowered her pelvis slowly on to Janice's waiting mouth — but she did so facing him. She would look into his eyes as they determined which one of them would walk away alive.

Michael would have it no other way.

He plunged his cock into Janice's cunt, and luxuriated in the sensation of fecund heat and wet walls parting and closing around him. It had been too long - too long. He realized his eyes had closed and he opened them, and found himself staring into Eisheth's.

Her eyes were not half-closed in mockery, nor the wide open eyes of the doe-eyed innocent she would counterfeit as an infernal joke — but the dilated, searching eyes of a woman in abject lust, yearning for him, wishing for the touch of his lips, hands, hips, and cock more than anything in creation.

Eisheth wriggled and squirmed on top of Janice's face, responding to the ministrations of an unseen tongue, but her eyes — her eyes were all for him, wanting him, demanding him.

Michael had fought her advances for a year, seeing them as a mere ruse to claim him, but perhaps he had underestimated her appreciation of him. He had always been a man of strong will, and otherwise confidant women had frequently sought his bed searching someone strong enough to tame them, pin their wrists over their head with his firm grip, and bend them backwards, or forwards or sideways to his will. He saw it now. Eisheth was no different, just another untamed bitch who thought the fire in her head was hotter than the fire he would raise between her legs. This was what she had really wanted with all her teasing and mockery, to be taken by him — enslaved to his will.