The Pink Cat Ch. 04

Author's Note: This starts out with a bang-pardon the pun-but then settles into a bit more storytelling as it progresses. While there is some sex, the rest of the story sets the tone for what is to cum.

*

Recovering from Lilith's energetic attention took me far longer than I expected. My body shook wildly for the better part of an hour after my Mistress teased my sex. Unsurprisingly, Rollo chased off my human audience and stationed himself beside me until I could once again walk unaided.

"Thank you," I gasped at him as I dropped back down on the closest couch.

"I didn't expect the Mistress to visit," the half-demon observed thoughtfully. "Though you didn't seem to mind."

I snorted.

"Can you get me some clothes? Business appropriate. I still need to attempt a negotiation with our friend Adam," I said as I pushed myself off the couch. Negotiate wasn't exactly the right term, considering the club owner was firmly bound in all his naked glory. Still, I wanted to keep the exchange professional. One must maintain standards, especially when creating long-term, binding agreements.

Suddenly restless, I paced the room before finally ending up in front of the bar. "Our Mistress seems to have a keen interest in this place," I said as I poured myself a strong dirty martini. I waved an empty glass towards Rollo, who shook his head. All right, more for me then.

The half-demon walked up behind me, the off-putting stench of worry oozing from his pores. He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently before he spoke.

"I fear for your safety, Eisheth," he admitted quietly. "Something's not right."

I frowned. My companion was most assuredly correct, though I certainly couldn't tell him that. Lilith's command had been clear. Do the job. Stay loyal to her. As much as I loved him, Rollo technically belonged to Shehazau. Could I trust him? The half-demon answered first to the Nephilim, not me. He could be the enemy, spying on me and, by proxy, Lilith. Rollo would never want to harm me, but Shehazau was a powerful and manipulative higher power--should he give the command, my half-demon friend would kill me in a heartbeat. I would have to proceed with the utmost of caution.

Slipping out of the office and away from Rollo's smothering attention, I draped myself over the railing and stared down at the busy floor below me. Men reached for women who only pretended to be interested, at least until the money ran out. The entire place reeked of desperation and loneliness, among other less pleasant things. As it stood, The Pink Cat could have been a haven for the cruelties of psychic vampires, those who feed deeply on the suffering of mortals. A few slipped through the crowd, slowly draining the energy from unsuspecting men, and women. That crowd normally clung to the shadows of more secluded places, hiding from demons and humans alike. No one tolerated the vampires, not even my Mistress.

Shuddering, I focused on the main bar. Rose handled the place with ease, guiding both drunken patrons and unruly employees towards more acceptable behaviors. Even though her aura was most assuredly human, I was rather certain that she harbored some brand of siren blood in those veins. It wasn't a concern, merely a curiosity on my part. She looked the type to stay loyal once she deemed one worthy and I was certain the barkeep found me worth her time.

"That would explain why Rollo is so enamored with her," I muttered to myself as I considered her lineage.

"I'm sorry?" Tank said.

I jerked, swinging my gaze to my left side. Hell, I hadn't heard the man coming up the stairs. I hadn't even noticed that Rollo had left the office-such distraction was far too dangerous for me. Recovering quickly, I favored Tank with a smile and waved him into my office. He nodded, keeping a well wrapped package between us as he passed my robe draped body. I almost moaned aloud as I took in his musky, warm scent.

"Uh . . . Rollo asked me to bring this up for you," Tank stammered.

Of course he did.

I reached for the package, intending to turn away and head for the bathroom. For some reason, I felt shy around the human male in front of me. The sensation was peculiar and disturbing to an extent. I seduced people. Fucked them. I didn't blush around them.

A voice in my head screamed for me to get dressed. I ignored it-a habit not conducive with a long, happy demon life. Instead, I reached out for Tank's hand, pulling him closer the moment he placed his fingers in mine. I dropped the package on the wooden floor and slid my hands along his chest, not stopping until my fingers were laced together behind his thick neck. Tank's breath came in short, choppy bursts as his body reacted to my touch.

He leaned in for a kiss, and I denied him that pleasure. I wanted to see how far the man was willing to go. With a growl, he wrapped his hands firmly around my waist. Pulled me to him and leaned forward until his mouth was tickling the skin of my neck.

I moaned, as did he.

"Shall I finish what I started, precious?"

"God," he ground out. "Please, God."

I sighed, the sound coming out as a short, low laugh and pushed him backwards, not stopping until he was backed against the office door. I caught his gaze, never taking my eyes from his as I lowered myself to my knees and slowly worked open the buttons of his pants. Tank groaned and fisted his hands in my long, thick hair.

I took my time as I worked to free his straining cock. I kissed the front of his pants, enjoyed the heat scorching my lips. Tank groaned and reached for the rest of the buttons, impatient with need. I slapped his hand away and resumed my slow torture. Defeated, he let his head fall backwards against the heavy wooden door.

As he panted, I took a moment to study his body. His energy. Tank was a beautiful specimen. Not a perfect clay model of a man. No, he was so ordinary. His imperfections--the crooked nose, the slight scar running along the right side of his muscled abdomen--made him so real. Demons. Gods. They all project themselves as perfect. Muscles symmetrical. No blemishes on their tanned skin. No flaws in their gait. Tank, with his slight limp and scars, was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen.

I finally pulled his pants apart, using my hands to free his cock from his boxers. More perfection. I inhaled his scent, moaning drunkenly as I carefully slid my fingers along his shaft. Tank jerked his hips, thrusting forward to prolong the contact.

My own body pulsed and shook, begging me to impale myself on that gorgeous shaft. I waited patiently until I was calm and back in control of my wanting body. This would be a marathon, not a short, unsatisfying sprint.

Before my tongue could find its mark, Tank pulled me to my feet. Confused, I let him have his way. Again, I never let a human take control. The feeling of helplessness made my body tingle.

"I need you, Eisheth," he growled viciously.

I draped my arms around his neck and this time, I let the man pull me into a kiss. The office . . . hell, the entire world spun away as I sank into that kiss. Before I realized it, Tank had pulled me up and thrust inside me, spinning us around so that my back was firmly pressed against the door. I grunted in time with each driving, animalistic thrust. I bit his chest and finally managed to lock my ankles behind his back, locking us together in a writhing, sweating tangle of limbs and flesh. Tank swore viciously and jammed his tongue into my mouth, savoring my taste as one would a fine wine. I cried and bucked my hips, struggling to match his rhythm as he filled me time and time again.

My satisfaction from sex normally came from absorbing the energies of my partner as they climaxed. Sure, sex always felt great and the act sustained my power. But the intimacy I experienced was always for some ulterior motive. I fucked people to gain power or information. Or control. Sex for the sheer pleasure of the act, well that was something that the powers higher than me enjoyed. To the succubus, even one as highly ranked as myself, sex was a tool or a weapon. Sometimes it was a reward and other times, a punishment. We succubi influenced wars and toppled governments merely by opening our legs at the right time and with the right person--or people.

Sex with Tank was unlike anything I'd experienced.

I shook as I reached a true climax, one even more powerful than the reward I'd received only hours before from my Mistress. I cried out and fought to free myself from Tank's firm grasp as he kept thrusting himself inside me. Fire boiled between my legs, igniting my entire body with a power I'd never experienced before-a power that I couldn't even fathom. I dug my nails into his back and buried my face in his thick, sweaty chest as I fell to another painfully delightful orgasm.

Tank's thrusting began to falter, his rhythm losing momentum and synchronicity until he drove himself deep inside me and bellowed. His body shook as he came deep inside me. My magic reached out, and for a moment, I was terrified that it would drain every ounce of life from him. Instead, I felt it slide through his body. It caressed him, eased his straining muscles. Teased every drop of sperm from him. Embraced him almost lovingly.

Very peculiar.

He collapsed against the door, trapping my tremoring body between hot flesh and heavy wood. For a very long moment, Tank did nothing but suck in great lungsful of air as his body struggled to recover. Finally, he pulled back and gently lowered me to the ground. He didn't release his grip immediately, as if waiting to ensure that I wouldn't fall over. Or maybe he just didn't want to let go, I wasn't certain.

We panted, each searching for the right thing to say. I slid my hand along his chest, pushing him far enough away so that I could step away from the door. His fingers caressed my now bare back as he leaned forward asking for--no demanding--another kiss.

I obliged him before sending him away.

Worry wrapped itself around me, clouding my thoughts as I cleaned myself and got dressed. Rollo has selected a burgundy pants suit with a matching jacket and a silken black shirt. The shoes were simple stilettos made of black leather and adorned with a single, small ruby fastened along the edge of the toe box. Dressed and mostly calm, I reached out to my companion, willing him to join me in the office. While I waited, I poured myself another dirty martini and pretended that I knew what the hell I was doing with Tank.

A moment passed before Rollo slipped into the room. His nostrils flared slightly, and his mouth curved upwards into a devilish grin. I rolled my eyes and poured us each a drink. The half demon had the gull to laugh as I handed him a filled glass.

"Have fun?"

"Quiet you," I retorted. "That was a low blow, sending him up here when I was weak and vulnerable."

Rollo barked out a short, derisive laugh. "Vulnerable. Ha! I did it more for him," he confessed. "The poor man was so excited he could hardly walk."

I shook my head.

"You look troubled, Eisheth," Rollo said abruptly. "I figured you'd be relaxed. He didn't satisfy your needs?"

"He was good, Rollo." I started to explain what was really bothering me but stopped short. Telling him about my wondering thoughts and my weakness for the big human could leave me vulnerable. Or could get Tank killed, something I didn't even want to consider. Damn it! Was I starting to feel something for him?

"We've a great deal to accomplish before the deadline," I stated firmly. "I can do nothing before we gain Mr. Shipman's willing compliance. So, no more playing until our task is complete."

"But, Rose," Rollo began.

"Then help me get this idiot on board so you can go back to your plaything."

Rollo opened his mouth, snapping it closed before anything escaped. I'd known him for eons. Something was bothering the half demon. Something he wasn't eager to share. I cared for Rollo and seeing him suffer was beyond me.

"What?" I asked softly.

Rollo glanced around the room, as if looking for spies. Or worse. There was always something worse lingering in the dark corners of our world.

"Rose," he muttered quietly. "She . . . she does something to me. I don't understand it, but I . . . I feel something for her, Eisheth."

I pulled my friend into an embrace. Not a sexual thing, but one that two long-time friends would share.

Fuck it.

"Tank does the same thing to me," I admitted. "We need to be careful, my friend."

Rollo pulled back slightly and studied my face.

"Indeed."

We broke apart, each of us restoring the polished exterior that we presented to the rest of the human world. Emotions were not for those of our ilk-whether we liked it or not. Once we were composed, my partner and I walked through the door into Adam Shipman's sexual torture chamber.

"Fucking untie me! Right fucking now!"

I cast a long gaze at the obviously uncomfortable, naked man hanging from the bondage frame.

"Rude," Rollo commented as he perused the whips hanging along one wall. He took his time, occasionally pulling a device from the wall and carefully inspecting it.

"Bitch, this is your last chance," spat Adam. "Untie me and leave. If you never come back, I'll forget all about this."

Ah. The pleas of a man who knows damned well that he is truly fucked.

Rollo chuckled and pulled a black leather slapper from the wall. Adam Shipman's taste in bondage obviously ran to the extreme. His toys were spiked and studded. I had no doubt that Shipman was the kind of asshole who just liked to hurt his submissive-or his unwilling participants. He wasn't the kind of man who worked to develop a trusting bond with someone. He just wanted to hurt people.

"You're the kind of asshole who doesn't use a safe word, aren't you?" the half demon whispered in Adam's ear.

Rollo played rough. I played rough. But we respected what that rough play was supposed to be, even when playing with lesser humans. I'd tied, bound, and tormented women and men alike over the centuries. I liked the power and my playthings liked the euphoria of pain-laced pleasure. The synergy of willing partners greatly enhanced the benefits of my sexual exploits. Willing slaves told me things, sought me out when they needed attention. Willing slaves embraced my guidance when I needed to topple governments. A trusting partnership benefited all involved.

I pushed off the wall I'd leaned against and started inspecting a variety of gags handing from a large pegboard along another wall, content to listen to Rollo graphically describe all the things that were about to befall our guest.

"Ah, perfect!"

I pulled a penis-shaped mouth gag from the wall and casually strolled towards the bondage rack. I held it up so Adam could see it.

"Don't even think about it! That goes in bitches' mouths," Adam sputtered.

"If you don't shut up and listen, I'll have Rollo shove it up your ass before I put it in your mouth, Adam." I held the gag out so my companion could take it. "Now, I've already indicated that I intend to procure The Pink Cat from you." I held up my hand before Adam could start swearing again. "This goes one of two ways. Both benefit me and only one benefits you, so listen up. First choice is to willingly sign the business over to me and walk away. Never come back or interfere with The Pink Cat again and you will never want for money."

Rollo leaned in close to Adam, sliding his sunglasses off and flashing those blood red eyes.

"I'd take that one, Mr. Shipman."

Adam growled, but said nothing.

"Second choice, you resist. We, Rollo and I, will torment you the very same way you've tortured your sex partners over the years. We will use ever single device in this room to make you hurt."

"Then we'll bring in the real pain devices," Rollo added with a positively nasty smirk. "She and I know everything you've done. The girls you've drugged and taken by force."

"The young ones you've violated," I said coldly.

"The ones buried along the riverbank out back," Rollo concluded. "We've seen it all. I'll make you hurt." He jerked his chin in my direction. "Eisheth, she'll make you pay."

Rollo flicked his wrist, snapping the three layers of the slapper together with incredible force. Shipman swallowed hard.

"I know which option I'd take," I offered as I smiled coolly. "Question is, are you really as smart as you think you are?"

A faint whisper of noise behind me announced an uninvited guest to the evening's festivities. I glanced backwards and caught sight of two bodies, one familiar and one not, standing near the closed door. Slightly annoyed, I made eye contact with Amber, but all thoughts of rebuke died when I noticed the tiny, shivering body huddling behind her. I nodded towards the door, glad when Amber interpreted my meaning and took her charge out of the room with her.

"Big decisions require contemplation," I said when I returned my attention to Adam. He was shivering and his pupils were dilated.

I inhaled deeply.

Fear.

"I'm going to let Rollo hang out for a few minutes while you think things over." I looked up at my companion. "How many would you like?"

Rollo fiddled with the slapper and pretended to be lost in thought.

"Two, I believe. Perhaps from the Fifth Circle," he added as he began removing his clothing.

"No! Wait! What the fuck is he doing?" Adam all but screamed.

"Relax," I soothed. "Now think about what you're going to do, and I'll be back in a few minutes."

Ignoring the bound man's pleas, I reached out to my younger sisters. I let my magic flow through the realms of Hell, stopping only when I reached the Fifth Level.

Wrath.

The succubi calling that place home have a special place for abusers in their angry, lust-filled hearts. Those who succumbed to violence or who suffered at the hands of lovers, those were the souls that morphed into the succubi of Wrath. They appeared in any form their victim found appealing. Beautiful. Deadly. Wrathful succubi boasted supple breasts and ample hips. And deadly, wicked fangs.

Perfect for an asshole like Adam Shipman.

The air in the room shimmered as a dark portal snapped into existence, depositing two petite red-haired women into the space between the bound man's quaking legs. They giggled, sliding their fingertips along the insides of Adam's thighs. His body reacted, quickly betraying the fact that he was turned on by women who looked way too young. I shot a quick look at Rollo, who stood a few paces away, slapper at the ready. He was watching the succubi work, no doubt seeing two identical versions of his favorite Rose-obviously he liked what he was seeing.

My companion nodded at me, indicating that he wouldn't let any harm befall our bound guest. I wanted to scare him, just to encourage his cooperation.

If he acted like an asshole, well, then my sisters would get a chance to enjoy themselves fully.

I walked to the door, slipping outside and reclosing it a second before Adam started screaming. I smirked and headed over to see why the hell Amber had interrupted me.

"Uh, what's happening to Adam?" she asked, voice shaking a little.

"Rollo and a few friends are . . . convincing him to cooperate with my business negotiation," I answered. "Now, who is this and why are you both up here?"

"This is Mercy," Amber said. "She . . . has a beef with Adam. I thought, maybe, you could help her."

I turned my attention to the young girl, who barely looked of legal age. She stared at me from behind Amber's back, her entire lithe body quaking. I arched an eyebrow at Amber, then waved them both to the couches.

"Mercy," I said gently, "I have standards and I don't tolerate bullshit. Amber might have told you that. Obviously, your friend here thinks I might be able to help you. I can do nothing if you don't speak up."