Served

“I think…I would like to be served.”

The succubus nods. With a sly look she rises from the bed, and at once you feel the loss of her presence. You move to follow but she holds up a silver hand. “Don’t. I will fetch one for you. Trust me to choose one you who will serve you well.”

Uncertainly you lie back on the divan. Seeing you obeying the succubus nods and departs from the chamber. With nothing left to do you let your head fall back against the cushions and look up into the faces of the statues. It’s strange to think it could happen on such a savage shape, but the expression of the demon goddess looks almost compassionate. Or, is it commanding?

Your musings are broken by the soft pad of bare feet and a gentle tinkle of metal like wind chimes. You sit up, then straighten rigidly with a soft gasp as the newcomer enters.

He, and his gender is not in question thanks to the fact he is utterly naked like yourself, revealing every inch of his sinful red skin, steps inside with a submissive, almost skittish step. He has a slender, boyish figure with feminine hips and thighs framing an impressive sized human cock. He is not muscular, but he is not fat either, his stomach smooth and flat, his arms soft and his scarlet skin looking utterly tantalizing. He is utterly hairless, a pair of small horns poking from his forehead above eyes cast down respectfully.

He stops in the centre of the floor to allow you a more thorough examination of him. You had been enraptured by his flawless skin before, and as a result missed what hung from him. Two rings pierce his black nipples, a chain strung between them like a smile. There is a golden ring around his throbbing cock inscribed with lettering subtly throbbing a fiery red as if holding back his arousal.

You swallow thickly at the sight of the demon boy and stand from the couch. Abruptly, you realize you have no idea how to proceed. “What is…your name?”

“I am Demis, mistress,” the demon says demurely, his eyes remaining submissively on the ground.

“I am Sabine.” You walk around him as you think, trying to figure out what to do next. You stop when behind him, staring at the soft globes of his ass where instead of a tail, there is a square something jutting out. “What is this?” you wonder, touching the flat square.

He moans softly and you pull your hand away in surprise. “M-my paddle, mistress,” he says. “May I show you?”

“Ah, yes.” You stare in wonder as he reaches back and pulls out the paddle from where it was squeezed between his ass cheeks. He shudders subtly at its loss and hands it to you with odd ceremony. You take it and turn it over speculatively. The handle is rounded with a spiral like two intertwined snakes, ending in a ball which no doubt helped him keep it in place. The flat end of the paddle itself is broad and smooth with a texture like leather. You stroke the surface curiously, then turn your eyes back to his perfect ass cheeks, almost quivering with anticipation.

You resume your circuit, gently slapping the paddle against your palm as you scrutinize the tense mass of scarlet desire of the incubi. You stop in front of him again, eying the ring around his cock, then the chain between his nipple rings. Using the paddle you lift the chain a bit so it forms a W. You let it drop and squat before him. You push the flat of your paddle beneath his cock and lift it. He gives a shudder, his demonic dick rigid and erect atop the black surface of the paddle like a meal served to you. “What is this?” you ask, tapping the ring.

“M-my ring,” Demis gasps. “It keeps me from c-cumming, mistress.”

“You have problems with that?”

“I-I have excellent self control mistress. But my f-former mistress didn’t want me touching myself if she wanted me to w-wait longer than a week.”

You hum and stand, stepping back to the divan again. Demis remains on his tip toes, dick throbbing and erect as if hovering where you left it.

It only occurs to you then, with the paddle in hand, and your boytoy before you, that you haven’t ever been in such a position of influence before. Have you? It feels odd to be the one in command. To have the power to choose sex, the how, the when, the ability to make another shake in desire for you. No wonder the demons love it so. It's odd. Odd, but…good. Very good. The paddle cracks against your palm and the young demon jumps. You bite your lips as his cock shudders around its ring. The air is hot against your naked skin and you feel warmth pool in your core as you think of all the things you could do with him. The feeling of the leather paddle against your palm is merely the most obvious choice.