Sins of the Succubus

16. Neela

16

NEELA

I step into the bar, my body still humming from last night's revelations. Dremlor's gaze finds me immediately, and a warmth spreads through my chest. It's different now, more than just lust and power. Something deeper, more profound.

As I serve drinks, I can't help but steal glances at him. He's magnificent, strong, and commanding… and so much more. My lips curl into a small smile as I remember the tenderness of his embrace.

"Hey, sweetheart," a patron calls out. "How about some service over here?"

I turn, ready to deliver my usual fake smile, when I catch sight of Thaelar. He's just stumbled in, reeking of cheap perfume and stale alcohol. My stomach turns, but not with jealousy. He never came home last night, probably choosing to take advantage of some poor female human flesh just like I used to be.

No, not jealousy. Disgust.

He staggers over, his eyes bloodshot. "There you are," he slurs. "Time to earn your keep. Get up there and give these fine gentlemen a show they won't forget."

I bristle at his command, but then an idea strikes me. A wicked grin spreads across my face. "Oh, I'll give them a show all right."

I saunter towards the stage, my hips swaying with newfound confidence. As I pass Dremlor, I lean in close. "Care to join me for another dance?"

His eyebrows raise slightly, but he nods, following me to the stage. The crowd whoops and hollers as we ascend the steps.

I grab the pole, spinning around it with practiced ease. But this time, it's different. I'm not dancing for them. I'm dancing for me, for Dremlor, for the power I can feel coursing through my veins.

"Come here," I purr, beckoning Dremlor closer.

He approaches, his eyes burning with desire. I pull him against me, our bodies moving in perfect sync. The crowd fades away, and it's just us, lost in our own world of passion and power.

I lock eyes with Dremlor, a wicked idea forming. "Care to up the ante?" I purr, my hand trailing down his chest.

His smirk is a silent promise of wickedness, the devilish glint in his eyes daring me to take the next step. "What do you have in mind?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that resonates deep within my chest.

I don't need words to respond; my actions speak volumes. I reach behind him, my fingers tracing the curve of his spine until they meet the smooth scales of his tail. It's a part of him that's always been off-limits, a symbol of his demonic nature that he's kept hidden from the prying eyes of the crowd. But tonight, it's mine to command.

With a gentle yet firm grip, I guide his tail, feeling the raw power that lies coiled beneath its surface. I position it between my legs, the cool scales a stark contrast to the heat that's building within me. The crowd gasps, their eyes wide with shock and arousal. But their reactions are a mere whisper compared to the cacophony of sensations that explode within me as I begin to move.

I ride his tail with an abandon I've never allowed myself to feel, using it in ways that would make even the most depraved patron blush. The friction is exquisite, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing over me, threatening to drown me in ecstasy. I can feel Dremlor's power surging through his tail, amplifying my own.

The energy that pulses between us is electric, a visible aura that envelops us in a cocoon of raw desire. I can't tell where his pleasure ends and mine begins—it's a symphony of sensation that leaves me breathless, wanton, and utterly lost in the moment. And his eyes are burning with a need that tells me he wants to devour me right here and now.

I hear a commotion from the side of the stage, but I'm too caught up in the moment to care. That is until I see Thaelar, my so-called husband, pushing his way through the crowd, his face a mask of fury.

The command from Thaelar slices through the air, sharp and venomous. "Stop! Stop that right now!" he prattles, his face contorting into a mask of fury, turning redder by the second. "Neela, you insolent—!" His words are a whip, meant to lash me into submission, to remind me of my place.

But something inside me, a force long caged, finally breaks free. It's as if a dam within my soul bursts, and my succubus nature, once hidden beneath layers of fear and obedience, rushes to the surface with a vengeance. A torrent of magical power, wild and untamed, courses through my veins, electrifying every nerve in my body.

With barely a thought, I exert my newfound will, and Thaelar halts mid-stride, frozen like a statue, his expression locked in a grotesque snarl of impotent rage. "Watch," I hear myself say, my voice resonating with an authority that surprises even me. "See what you can never control again."

The crowd around us erupts into cheers, their voices a distant cacophony that barely registers. My focus is singular, honed in on the being before me. He's not just a man, but a demon, and even in his frozen state, his tail continues its expert rhythm, stroking me with a precision that's pulling me inexorably toward the brink of ecstasy.

I am no longer the girl who was forced into a life of servitude and abuse. I am power. I am freedom. And I am about to reclaim everything that's been stolen from me.

His eyes, those fiery orbs, hold me captive, and the smirk playing on his lips blossoms into a grin that could unsettle the very foundations of the underworld. "You're a natural," he murmurs, his voice a low growl that seems to resonate within the marrow of my bones, sending a cascade of shivers down my spine.

The crescendo of pleasure is rising within me, an unstoppable force, a tide of ecstasy poised to shatter the chains of my past. I throw my head back, my moan slicing through the din of the crowd, a sound that is both a surrender to the rapture and a battle cry of defiance. This is the moment I reclaim myself, a declaration of independence from the shackles of servitude that have bound me for so long.

"That's right, Neela," Dremlor growls, his hand shamelessly caressing the bulge in his trousers, a testament to his arousal. "Show them what a slut you are for me." His words, crass and commanding, should offend me, but instead, they stoke the fire burning within me, fueling my rebellion.

"Oh, gods!" I cry out, my voice ragged with the intensity of the sensations coursing through me.

My body convulses, succumbing to the waves of my orgasm, a force so powerful it threatens to sweep away everything in its path. As the tempest of pleasure ebbs, I let my eyes roll back, lost in the abyss of my own liberation, until Dremlor, with a final, savoring stroke, withdraws from me, leaving me trembling, empowered, and irrevocably transformed.

Catching my breath, I hold Thaelar's gaze, savoring his helplessness. I will do whatever I want, say whatever I want, and fuck whatever I want.

The bar feels like it's holding its breath, the air thick with shock and arousal. My performance with Dremlor, raw and unapologetic, is a spectacle that silences even the rowdiest of patrons. But it's not just the act itself that has everyone's attention—it's the defiance, the blatant challenge to Thaelar's authority that crackles in the air like static.

I see Thaelar's face in the crowd, his mouth agape, a vein throbbing in his temple. He's always been the kind of man who needed to dominate, to control. And now, with my body wrapped around Dremlor's tail, I'm shattering that illusion of control.

"This… is my establishment. You are to do… what I say. This is just… that's not respectable," he stammers, his voice barely audible over the pounding music.

My gaze locks on Dremlor, and a wicked smile tugs at my lips. "Not respectable?" I echo, my voice dripping with pure excitement.