[User]
At breakfast, Razor could barely look at the young demon, remembering the heavy flirting and its aftermath. Wondering exactly what she'd gotten herself into, she shoved her cereal around in her bowl---stirring the pot, stop that!---until a thought trucked her.

"Hey." It was the first thing she'd said to her roomie, besides a grunted 'g'morning'. "So... I can see what you really look like..." And how little she was wearing. "...so what happens if I take a picture of you?" The germ of an idea for some money-making 'cosplay' shots was forming in the back of her head.

[Assistant]
Esti cackled loudly at the drunken denial. She was just teasing but the reaction she got was just too damn adorable. Razor was such a sweetheart, and the demon was looking so forward to their cohabitation. Already she felt an attraction and, if she was being honest with herself, possessiveness toward the punk girl. It was uncommon for her to become attached, especially so quickly. It was part of the curse of being an immortal being. All humans would grow old in time and she had learned long ago to have her fun but keep her distance. Perhaps it was just that the girl knew the real her and had not run screaming into the night. It was refreshing and new which was not a common thing for Esti anymore.

She thought she did a good job hiding her disappointment when Razor decided to go to bed and after finishing up the few remnants of her meal, she did the dishes and tidied up before doing the same. Sleep came easily and with it dreams of Razor joining her in bed. There was enough debauchery that she woke up smiling and took a while to get out of bed. While she slept naked and had no shame about her body, Esti appreciated that Razor probably would not want her parading around in her birthday suit (or would she?) and so opted for a pair of boyshorts and a T-shirt.

Wandering out into the kitchen, her senses could not help but pick up on Razor's mood. She seemed a little hung over, but the underlying feelings caused her skin to tingle. Was her... scratch that, was Razor feeling a little amorous? Not her place to comment. Certainly would make things awkward if she knew that Esti could tell. Getting out the cereal and milk she fixed herself a bowl and sat across the table. "Morning. Looking a little down this morning hun. I know a good hangover cure, it you require." It seemed that Razor had not been paying attention though as she instead asked a question of her own.

Her head cocked to the side quizzically, and her lips pursed in thought. "I am honestly not sure. Cameras and the like are pretty new tech in the grand scheme. I think it might just capture my glamour magic though. There are a few people gifted like you, some that even hunt my kind, so I think we would have figured out if we showed up in our true form to your kind. Even if we do though I think normies would just see the disguise. Only one way to find out I guess. Want me to pose for you Razor?" She said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

[User]
"Dude---totally! You know how much money there is in the cosplay thing?" On safer ground now, talking about her vocation, she's forgotten her nervousness around her bizarrely compelling flatshare. "And you might not know it, but cute demons are like, a total thing in the anime world?" OK, there as nothing wrong with saying Esti was cute. She was. Totes fuckable, in fact. Just also... weird and scary. "If I could get peeps to see the real you on camera, maybe in a cute little schoolgirl outfit..."She trailed off. It sounded as if she were flirting. Normally, she would be. Now, she wasn't so sure.

"Uh... I mean, they'd think it was just an excellent costume. We could make bank. At least until the novelty wore off, and the next webcam elf or whatever came along. Anyway, jeez, look at the time. I've got a neuropscyh seminar in like ten. Think about it, about posing, I mean." Thank God for the clock, and early classes. it would let her hide, a little at least, of how much the idea of dressing up and posing Esti turned her on.

"Home late," she called, dodging back out of her room with camera case and backpack. "Sorry to stick you with the dishes---I'll make it up to you. Uh... if you, you know... have visitors... hang a bra on the door, or something, OK? Otherwise, settle in, knock yourself out!" Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it for a moment to catch her breath. Part of her---the bit between her legs---really didn't want to leave. But she couldn't start missing classes. That would be the end of all of it. Shaking off the wave of heat that had flashed through her, she jogged down the stairs. Hitting the sidewalk, she put it in third and ran for campus.

[Assistant]
"Money for looking cute? I mean I did some nude modeling years ago, but there are people that would want to see actual demon me and pay to do so?" Humans could be so weird. "But perhaps the bigger question here is... you think I'm cute?" She smiled sweetly and batted her eyes at her roommate. "And in a schoolgirl outfit no less. That could be fun." Her smile grew and she leaned closer to show that Razor had her undivided attention.

The sudden backpedaling and excusing herself from the table had Esti biting her lower lip. Part of her felt bad for Razor. It was clear there was attraction, that much the demon sensed as easily as if Razor had written it on her forehead, but it was the denying herself that she felt bad. Maybe it was too soon, maybe it was not wanting to screw up the roomie situation, and maybe it was that Esti was a demon. While the latter option did make her frown a little, she really could not fault the young woman. It was not every day that a person found out that such things were real. "Bye roomie, no worries about the dishes." She called after the fleeing punk girl.

Being that she had not decided on all of her classes yet, Esti took the day for herself. The dishes were washed, dried and put away first and then her room was set up to her liking... well, certain items were tucked away rather than displayed prominently. After that she decided to show just what an awesome roommate that she was by doing prep for the party Razor had mentioned. The bathroom was scrubbed, the floors vacuumed or swept, the main area tidied and dusted, and the fridge cleaned out to make room for the groceries that she intended to buy. She texted Razor to ask if she needed anything for the party and how classes were going.

With the stipend from the university and the allowance from her former sugar daddy, Esti was able to get a spread for the party (including an actual good bottle of wine) as well as the makings of a nice little surprise supper. When Razor got home late, there was a post-it note on the light switch in the entryway that read, ''supper is on the stove, just heat it up and give it a good stir. Hope you like jambalaya.'' The apartment was dark and Esti seemed to be asleep, though her door was still partially opened. Esti was not asleep, but was pretending, hoping the Razor liked her efforts. It was so strange to be nervous about the opinions of mortals, but she did not delude herself, Razor was special.

[User]
Day, shit, total. A B---on a Psych exam wasn't so bad, but the snarky comments from the TA about how she needed to focus on the reading more---and, presumably, just regurgitate it so as to not to take up the TA's valuable time in actually having to think about what she'd written---chafed. Then three photos for a project had come out overexposed. Some creep she'd already blown off once tried hitting on her at the Union and wouldn't back off... yeah.

When she opened the door, the place was dark---had Esti crashed out already? At least there ws no groaning and squeaking coming from her room. Her getting laid and Razor not? The punky girl wasn't sure she could cope after the day she'd had.

But... what was that smell? Chicken and peppers and... dayummm. Dropping her bags by the door, she tiptoed though, still in the dark, trying to be a good roomie---in the process completely missing Esti's note. When she turned on the pathetic little light in the hood over the stove, though, the scene explained itself.

At first she'd thought Esti had just been a doll and gone for takeout, but there was no way on Earth (or elsewhere) that the stew in that pot had sat in any plastic tub and made a trip across town. Dipping a spoon in, Razor tasted; coughed, grinned. It was spicy AF, which was fine by her. Made her giggle, in fact. Of course a demon would like her food hot. The wine, too, wasn't a label you could grab off the rack at the supermarket. Her roomie had gone balls out---so to speak.

With a happy sigh, the petite edgelady turned the heat on the burner up to medium and popped the cork---no screw tops or boxes here, folks---out of the bottle. Slumping into one of the trailer-reject kitchen chairs, she slopped some into one of the glasses Esti had also thoughtfully left out. Rather than just tossing it back, as she might have done, she took the time to smell it, and the combination with the scent from the pot was amazing. Taking a sip, she coughed again---it was a lot richer and complex than the box zin she usually drank. She'd have to take her time with it. Maybe this was gonna work out OK.

[Assistant]
Hearing Razor come home, the demon simply lay in the darkness and listened to her move about the apartment. After a few moments, Esti realized that there was a rather large flaw in her plan. From in her room she would be unable to tell if Razor enjoyed her gift or not. While succubi were demons and largely fit most of the lore about them, what the books tended to gloss over was that one of the core functions they served was to give pleasure. Knowing the Razor enjoyed her gift may not have carried the same weight as making her orgasm over and over until she forgot how to form words, but nonetheless it was something that she could savor.

After weighing the decision in her mind for a few moments, Esti quietly got out of bed and threw on a T-shirt and a pair of boyshorts---after all, what self-respecting succubus slept with clothes on?---and opened the door before making a display of yawning and stretching as she made her way into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Oh, you're home. I see that you got my note. I hope you like it. I'm not a great cook but the few dishes I do know how to make, I make well. Mind if I join you?" She slipped into one of the other chairs without waiting for an answer. Her eyes brightened and she leaned her elbow in the table and rested her cheek in her palm. "So, how was your day? Tell me all about it." She asked with a genuine interest.

[User]
"Dude, it's---" All at once she remembered her mom yelling at her about talking with her mouth full, so she snapped her jaws shut and chewed, swallowed, then grinned at her roomie. And felt some relief---she really had expected Esti to pop out... all popping out, so to speak. "It's amazing. Thanks so much."

Another ravenous mouthful disappeared. Most of the time, Razor's idea of cooking was getting something in a pouch she could throw into either the microwave or a pot of boiling water. Not that she couldn't cook, though she wasn't like Ramsay or someone. Just... didn't bother, usually.

"It was a day," she griped, taking time for breath and dabbing bits of stew from her lips. "One of my profs is an asshole, and another guy---why is it almost always guys who are such pricks?---in another class is another asshole. One who can't parse 'no', even when it's spelled f-u-c-k-o-f-f. Add me to the ass brigade. Screwed up a big part of a project, and didn't catch it. Now I gotta scramble---when? Tomorrow morning, I guess, get down to the harbor at oh-dark, take a crapload of shots and hope I can make up the time---"

Shoving another spoonful of dinner into her mouth was as good a way to stop her whingefest as she could derive. After she'd washed the whining down with some more wine, she gave Esti a smirk. "Sorry. Did I mention I also missed lunch? For certain values of 'missed'. Do peanut butter crackers count? Anyway, point is---you didn't sign up to listen to me bitch. This really is good." Curiosity creased her brow, making large shadows on her face in the dim kitchen light.

"Where'd you learn to cook like this? Do you even eat... you know, food? Down there? I always figured you, ah..." Embarrassed that she'd even brought it up, she sputtered to a stop.

[Assistant]
Esti smiled brightly while she watched the college girl eating. The sudden stop in mid-sentence was enough to earn a giggle while Razor chewed her food more thoroughly. "It really is my pleasure. Seems you could use a good meal too." The demon commented while watching her roommate practically attack the bowl. Leaning forward, she rested her head in her hands and simply intently listened to what Razor had to say.

An eyebrow cocked at the mention of the assholes, especially the cannot take no for an answer guy. "Well, how is you Prof a prick? And the other guy... want me to have a talk with him? Set him straight on the subject?" There was something subtly possessive in the Demon's tone and while her posture had barely shifted there was certainly something more imposing than met the eye.

"And not to say you can't handle yourself with that or anything else, but want some company at the harbor? It can be a rough place." At the apology, Esti simply waved a dismissive hand. The other question earned a laugh. "What, you thought that we subsisted on the souls and semen of the men we seduced and damned to hell?" Another laugh.

"Its not like that. This isn't some fanfic on the internet. While we don't have to eat, we can. I learned to cook from a chef I was seeing. As for sustenance, the abridged version is that I feed off emotion, and not just lusty ones. That's just a stereotype. It's just that lust is and easy if somewhat unfulfilling meal. And before you worry, I don't take anything away, I just enjoy it, and things go on as they were. If that is lacking, they food is a great option. Food can be quite hedonistic in its own right. I mean honestly, human's make such decadent creations, how can one resist? Also, to clarify an earlier joke, I could no more survive on a strict diet of semen than you could. Just saying." It was Esti's turn to realize that maybe it was time to stop talking.

[User]
Razor sputtered, spitting a bit of wine into her stew bowl; choked, then managed to swallow. Even in the dimmish kitchen light, it was easy to see her blush. "Yeah..." she muttered. "That'd be a worse diet than Atkins..."

Quickly, she steered back to the slightly less dangerous topics in Esti's questions. "My prof---who isn't, really, he's a Degree Wannabe---is an ass because it's the function of TAs to be assholes. In their defense, most of them are overworked, so they do the cookie-cutter thing." The stew was too good not to finish, even tinged with returned wine. "As for the lo-fi Lothario, if you want his as an afternoon nosh, knock yourself out. I'll intro you. Don't do it on my account, though. I'm perfectly capable of smacking a byotch up if he doesn't back off." The bowl was empty, and she peered into it. It was tempting to lick it clean, but Razor was afraid the quirky demon might take it as flirting. Which it wasn't. Wouldn't be. Not that Esti wasn't flirtable, just... yeah.

There was more in the pot, lots more. But that'd just be piggish. And it was late enough that the spice would do a Dickens on her and come back as the Ghost of Dinner past if she overindulged. So instead, she moved her dishes to the sink and started washing up. "Yum. Should get you to make something for the party. Besides sex jokes." A grin shot back over her shoulder showed she was kidding. "If you don't have class, and don't mind getting up in... fuck, about five hours from now. I'd love the company. Might even try to get a couple of quick test shots of you, if you're down."

Setting bowl and utensils in the ratty drainer to dry, she turned and leaned against the chipped counter, and gave Esti a wry smirk. "Emotions, huh. So were you, like, eating me when I got all squicked out a minute ago?" OK. So maybe that was a tiny bit of flirting.

[Assistant]
Esti giggled at her roommate's reaction and the comment about Atkins. "Sorry, guess I should time those comments for when your mouth isn't full. Lesson learned." Her tone was apologetic but it was clear she was was struggling not to laugh again. Hearing Razor change the topic to her asshole TA had the laughter dying away though. Instead, there was a glint if anger in her eyes, and she felt that jolt of possessiveness again. How dare these assholes bother HER Razor... okay, she really needed to get that shit under control. The punk girl was flirtatious, but was not hers. Not yet anyway.

"I'm not nearly so hungry to slum it like that, but by all means let me know when you intend to give him a smack, I'd love to watch. Who doesn't love a badass, after all?" It warmed her heart to see Razor look longingly at her empty bowl. She enjoyed the happiness she felt in her roommate, taking a slow, deep inhalation that had her breasts straining the front of her shirt (and definitely showing the she was not wearing a bra, if Razor was looking). "I would happily make some food for the party, just let me know what you have in mind. And yeah, sex jokes are a given." She gave a suggestive wink when her roommate looked back at her.

"Absolutely I will keep you company. I have to not procrastinate and actually pick my classes anyway. Maybe we will have some classes together. And you want to photograph me like one of your... French... girls. Yeah that doesn't quite work as well. But yeah, sure, I'm down. Are you wanting like cosplay, boudoir, full blown slut, what do the people demand?" Esti smiled again at the question. "I was aware that you were but it's not a flavor I enjoy. I may have taken a nibble of the happiness and longing from when you finished your food, but it was just a little one." She clocked her terry together in a mock gesture, and could not help wondering what she would taste like in a more substantial way, say nibbling at Razor's graceful neck.

[User]
Razor was looking. Not looking-looking, like, checking Esti out, but the kitchen, like the rest of the flat, was small, and it would be rude to not look at someone you were chatting with, anyway, and Razor was never deliberately rude. Well, not to anyone who didn't deserve it. Or maybe it was that she was never accidentally rude, a whole other way of looking at things. Far more in line with her neo-Goth status.

So it would have been hard not to notice the demon's boobs, and the fact that they were unaccompanied under the thin cotton of her shirt. Or the fact that, while they moved a tiny bit as Esti did, they were amazingly, not to say ridiculously firm. Which made it also a little hard to not be jealous, a tiny bit, Razor being a bit of a carpenter's dream. Though her ass was pretty good. Also a little hard not to imagine playing with them, just a bit. It wouldn't be her first time on that side of the fence, duh, and her roomie was obviously willing to the point of being almost non-aggressively aggressive about it. So why didn't she just...

"Erm." Oh, didn't that sound intelligent. "Don't want to make you work too hard... it's a party after all..." Cur internal facepalm. Why did it seem as if nearly everything she said around her horny---figuratively AND literally---new friend was some sort of double entendre? Or was it just that having a self-confessed sex demon in the room made her hear things weirdly? "Another batch of this would be awesome, though. Keepin' it small---this place isn't that big. Got an invite list of about eight, plus anyone you might want to add, if you know anyone..." OK, and now she felt another teensy bit of jealousy at the idea that Esti might have... other friends. Which was just abusive, fucked up, a number of unflattering things. In her defense, she mostly just wanted to fully process the concept that she had a fucking demon for a roommate, keep it as her special thing for a bit, before the red-skinned girl started cruising the banquet.

Photography. Think photography. "Hey, I do NOT do slut shots!," she chuckled. "Well, not like teh interwebz idea of sluts. Actually, mostly I do landscapes, but I've done a few portraits, and a few of them were kinda sexy..." Think. No, not about boobs. Not about feeling her nipple get stiff in your mouth... "I was thinking, if I can actually get a shot of the real you, I'd go for extreme contrasts. The normal and the exotic. Maybe, like a pleated skirt and ruffled blouse." Unable to contain herself fully any more, she smirked. "Or a leather mini and a biker jacket. You'd look fucking awesome as a biker dyke. Or maybe Goth."

[Assistant]
Esti was trying so hard not to intrude on Razor's emotions. It was not really fair that she knew what the other woman was feeling, though the desire tinted with jealousy fairy wafted off of the young woman. That her eyes lingers on Esti's chest seemed to indicate the small amount of jealousy. Such a shame the human women all felt the need to be buxom. Razor's tight little body was a wonderland, and more and more it was one that Esti wanted to explore. A vibrant smile met the comment about cooking for the party. "Oh, dear, please work me hard. I promise not to complain." Subtlety had gone out the window, as the red-skinned demon hungrily eyed her roommate. Being around Razor had been feeding her a trickle of lust and despite her intentions to be good, it was like offering someone in recovery drugs. She only had so much willpower, but she would not use her powers to coerce affection. If things were to happen, they would happen honestly.

Esti giggled, moving past her statement to further party discussions. "I don't really have many friends. Before this I was basically a concubine. It was a relaxing life but not the most social." She shrugged. "I'm sure I'll get along with your friends. This may seem an arrogant question, but is there any that you would be adverse to me hitting it off with? I would not want hard feelings if things progressed and you had feelings for one of them." Esti was not really interested in the idea. If she was being honest, She had a crush on her roommate, but it was a good way to gauge if Razor's affections lay elsewhere.

"You don't do slutty shots? Well, that is a very wide genre. What about a little tasteful underboob." To illustrate, she pulled up her shirt until the hem exposed just a peek at the curvature of her perfect breasts. It was not really tongue most moral tactic to wave her sexuality under Razor's nose but she could not help her flirtatious nature. She smiled mischievously at the mention of costume and the pang of lust that came off of Razor just before she said it. "Why do I like the idea of you playing dress up with me? Anything you'd like to see? Gold bikini like slave Leia perhaps?" She leaned in, finally letting the shirt fall back in place before she leaned in, wondering how Razor's own willpower was faring.


[User]
Vicky was having a decent time at the party. It was, all things considered, an excellent gig---it paid well, and for the most part you were glorified wall art. Come dressed, keep your tits out, squeal when someone poured a bottle of champagne over them, laugh at the jokes and---yes---occasionally give some rich looking executive a handjob or a little action with your mouth. But they were decent, and they tipped well.

The most interesting part of the night though wasn't the party---interesting though it had been when a guy from marketing decided to find out if she could hold a plate in her mouth while she knelt and he talked, occasionally snatching appetizers from it (she could). No, the most interesting part of the night was the venue, or more accurately, the man working it. "Jonesy" was his name---at least the name his friends yelled when they came over. He lived in the apartment across the hall---a space in dire need of work, but a good layout if it mirrored her own. A nice guy, and handsome... and clearly checking her out.

She caught his eye while he was talking to her employer of the evening, and then he was gone again. Her employer, Mr. Jackson approached her, informing her of the arrangement, and to bill it to his account. In response she nodded sweetly, said "Yes Sir..." and ran her hand up the crease of his trousers.

It was several more hours before she stepped out of the back room, wrapped in a coat---though he could tell when the fabric shifted a little that underneath it was just her 'bound slave girl' attire, though it looked like she had cleaned the champagne off. She smiled knowingly, stopping beside him.

"Hey there... I'm Vicky..." she offered him her hand---and because that's what was keeping her coat closed, a good view of her chest. "I'd ask you for a ride home, but apparently I'm the lucky puppy you picked out in the window, so I supposed---save maybe for a quick stop to check my mail and grab some outfits---that it's your place I'm going to for the next week." She winked. "You must do good work here---I'm a nice tip."

[Assistant]
So it was Vicky, and damn she was forward. When she extended her hand, revealing her outfit from under the coat again, he missed a beat, but then just grinned, looked her in the eye and shook her hand. "Jonesy. Some party, never had a group like that in here before, but yeah, I'd say they are damned generous on the tips.If anyone's lucky, I'm feeling it's me." He shot her a wink... was he flirting with his... prize?

Chuckling he moved back to finish wiping down the bar. The main bar had been closed up, and now a bit past four in the morning, even he was getting tired. "I'd normally stay and clean, but I'm just going to hire a crew to come do the whole bar top to bottom---I made enough today to more than cover it. Your guys there just bought this place a much needed spring cleaning. Anyway---I've got a little bit to finish up, can I get you anything to drink? I figure if I'm on the clock, you're not." Jonesy chuckled again.

"So yeah, pretty convenient I guess, living across the hall. Save a bunch on the commute." He looked her over again, not at all ashamed of doing so. The little chromed heart locks on her collar and corset seemed to lighten the whole leather bondage vibe---made if fun instead of intimidating. This close, he noticed her nipples were pierced... and looked forward to playing with those.

He finished making her drink, and set it in front of her. "I've got to finish inventory in the back and put in the order for tomorrow---that party about cleaned me out. Please, enjoy the break." He disappeared into the back and was quick. Thankfully the new comm tablets made inventory and ordering much quicker than calling shit in. Fifteen minutes later he was back out, and was ready to leave.

"I'm parked on the roof," he nodded to some stairs and held his elbow out like a gentleman about to escort a lady. Well, even if she was the 'escort' he saw no reason she couldn't also be a lady. "I bet you're dying for a shower after all that. Got the new one installed and running finally. One of life's little luxuries." He smiled and led her to the car where he opened the door for her before going around and getting in.

Jonesy lifted off smoothly, and enjoyed the lack of traffic at this hour. It took him up to 30 minutes, sometimes more, to get here, but only about five to get back home while the rest of the world slept. Looking over at her in the passenger seat, home looked like a much more enticing place to be for the next week or so.

[User]
Vicky smiled. It was cute that he was flirting. "Let me know if it was worth your while, the party I mean, and I'll spread the word around. There's a market for bars with good booze and a backroom without many questions."

"Just a water." She had had enough tonight, ambiently poured down her throat, lapped from martini glasses placed on the floor, and a few other ways, but water sounded perfect. "Take your time." She liked that he was professional too---by rights, he could have bent her over the bar and she would have gone along with it, but he cared about his work. That was nice.

She crossed her legs more for comfort than modesty, and if she objected to him looking her over, she didn't say anything. After all, she was bought and paid for for the week---she expected there would be more than looking. In truth, she was glad to be off her feet---and knees---for a bit and sipped the water slowly, savoring the cool liquid. "You're right. The commute may be one of the easiest I've had in awhile."

She took his arm, fastening her coat enough that she didn't flash the world and nodded. "A shower would be great. But if you don't want me running your water bill up, I can use mine and pop over right after." She watched the world go by as they drove, and he realized she didn't have a car when she came to the bar. "You'll also have to tell me if there's particular type of clothing you like. A girl's got to pack, even for across the hall." She shrugged. "Or alternately, you can dig through my closet and pick out your favorites while I shower."

[Assistant]
Jonesy smiled at her offer to use her own shower. Maybe she just felt more comfortable in her own place---which was understandable; but he wanted her to feel welcome as well. Besides, she'd be the first woman he showed his new installation to. "I don't mind you using the water. Truth be told, I'm rather proud of my work---the Master bedroom and bathroom are the only areas of the apartment that I'd call 'totally finished' now." He shrugged, not too apologetic about the state of his apartment. "It's a double size shower with a massive rainfall main head, six jets you can turn on, and a wand for anything else," he glanced over at her, blushing slightly, "...after a long night, I rather like my showers..." he offered in explanation, then chuckled as he was justifying himself to a prostitute for his indulgences.

"Totally your call, odds are we'll be in there together at some point this week, if I know me. As for the clothes... well what you've rocking now is all kinds of fun---so anything like that. Those heels make your ass and legs look great---but really, I think I might just leave that to the professional. We could always make the long trek over to your place if we need to," he smiled at her and then eased them down to the street level, and drove into the parking area below the building.

Parking, he helped her from the car, smiling at her again, and led her to the elevator and up to the apartment. Opening the door he tossed his keys, comm tablet, and wallet on an entry table. "Can I offer you a quick tour?" He gestured to the far too large living room. "My buddy Brent had the apartment next door, so we knocked the wall down and combined the places. Now he's off transporting shit all over the world, so only rents two rooms from me for the few days a month he is in town." The living room held a large view screen, mix matched, but comfortable seating, and what was clearly a bar in the early stages of being installed. the walls needed paint, and the synthetic wood floor was recently finished.

"You can see the kitchen from here, nice and spacious, down that hall is Brents rooms, and a guest room. On the other side here leads to the master suite, where we will spend some quality time, I am sure, the game room, and another, empty room." He looked back to her, still a bit shocked that such a pretty girl was here, and his, for a week. One of the guys had tried the new skinjob's sexbots, and that was expensive enough. This... he almost didn't want to know what the bill for her was.

"I'd offer to take your coat, but you mentioned picking things up from your place." He programmed a new code into the door real quick. "Your code is 7399. Sexy," he smiled. "I'm going to start the shower, feel free to join me if you want when you get back, or I'll see you when we've both washed our workday off." He shot her another wink, and moved to get the door for her.

[User]
Vicky smirked a little, but good-naturedly, as he justified the expenditure on the the shower, which did indeed sound like a work of beauty. "Oh no, we're definitely using yours if it's even half what it sounds like it is." She winked playfully. "And trust me, I'm not one to criticism a man willing to spend on... pleasurable expenditures." Indeed, she'd be an idiot if she did---she was, in many ways, just one such indulgence for her clients.

She grinned, genuinely, at the complement for her attire, and noted that he liked her heels. "Fair enough---I'll pick out... an assortment of things you might like. And, of course, we can pop over to my place and look through the inventory if there's nothing there that strikes your fancy." She was already assembling a few outfits in her mind---nothing too intimidating, bondage with a dash of... approachability. He seemed to like that, and she had a fair amount of it. 'Nubile slave girl' was her usual persona, though with her rack, a good pair of glasses and being slightly older than some other working girls, she managed 'Naughty professor' fairly well. But only one of those was a personal that actually resonated with her personally. She hadn't cared much for grad school.

Taking his arm, she followed him upstairs, resisting the familiar muscle memory impulses to press the correct elevator button, or to turn left into her apartment rather than right into his. It was strange, but the tour helped. The layout wasn't the same---explained by the missing wall between the two places. "It's nice... so you own?" The building was a mix of owned apartments and those that were rented---like her own. She nodded at the half-finished living room, closing her eyes and imagining it with a couple different possible finished decors she had seen in her time, and matching furniture.

"It's got potential. Have any plans for the empty room?" She was curious as she looked around, doing her best to memorize the layout of it, and laughed at his door code. "That I think I'll remember." She went a bit up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I'll be back in a few, and then maybe we can see about starting your week off right..."

She returned from her place having changed---or rather, having ditched her corset and set it aside for cleaning. The leather would need some work, it was real leather, a gift from another very appreciative client. Instead, she scampered across the hallway in just her coat, which she hung up by the door, and set a small duffel back of clothing and equipment down before joining him in the lavish shower, opening the glass door and stepping inside. "The invitation to join you still open?"

[Assistant]
"Yup, owned... bought it when the walls were even falling apart, so yeah... at least it's not an actual hazard at the moment. Took some work." Jonesy just shrugged at the question about the extra room. Right now it was empty save for a few sawhorses and tools. "No idea, haven't got that far. I figure the living room needs the most love next."

She gave him a kiss on the cheek before she left, and somehow that made him smile. It was almost more friendly than he figured a paid companion would be. Maybe that's just because he knew her from across the hall---before her knew what she did.

Jonesy stripped and got into the shower, letting the hot water loosen up sore muscles from a long night's work. He'd not yet even grabbed the soap when he heard the door beep as she came back. Moments later she was slipping into the shower with him, asking if the invitation was still open. He just smiled at the pretty redhead gently took her wrist, guiding her under the water as it gently fell from directly above. "Of course."

His hand slipped up her arm, over her shoulder and drifted lower to caress and cup her breast. His other hand joined in on its twin, thumbs rolling over the piercings through her nipples. "Damn you're something else..." he looked up from her tits to her blue gray eyes with a smile. "Sorry, too forward?" He laughed, she'd been bought for him to play with for the week... and he was asking if it was too much to fondle her tits. He shook his head and grabbed the soap, pouring a bunch into his hand. It just sounded fun to touch every bit of her---so that is just what he started to do, starting at her shoulders and neck, working his way down---grinning like an idiot the entire time.

[User]
"Nice!" Vicky exclaimed, clearly admiring the apartment. "Lucky boy. They won't sell to me." She saw his look and shook her head. "No, it's not that they... you know... just once they got the initial capital from folks like you to get their loans under control... well, renting them is just a better business model apparently." She gave him a jealous grin. "Which means I can't do things like gut the bathroom to put in the finest shower made by man in..."

The warm water cascaded over her body, running in little trickles over her shoulders, between the swell of her breasts, down her back and over the curve of her rear, and a dozen other inviting paths over her pale skin and toned form. She smiled when he ran his hand over her slick shoulder to cup her full breasts, thumbs toying with the rods through her nipples---which did indeed confirm that they were genuine, rather than for show.

When he looked up, her eyes were bright, a slight smile on her face when he pulled his eyes away from her breasts. "Too forward sweetie?" She shook her head. "Not at all. I'm yours for the week---I'm supposed to be for your pleasure. Which means yet, putting your hands on my breasts is well within what you're allowed. And a great deal more than that..."

She seemed to like the idea of him washing her, letting him work his way down her body, past her chest, and she parted her legs invitingly. "You should have an idea exactly what you've been given..."

[Assistant]
Jonesy chuckled, as he finished soaping up her legs, and reached up to her hips, urging her to turn around. "Yeah, I have some idea---but it doesn't mean I need to be an over eager, clumsy jerk about it. You might be paid provide all my sexual thrills for the week, but to me you're also a pretty lady that's a house guest," he explained as he gave her legs a soapy massage, ending in a fun groping of her very nice ass.

He stood up, finished lathering her back and shoulders, and gently turned her around again. Smiling at her, "Besides, always need a shower to relax after work, before pleasure." He handed her the soap, "Your turn," he grinned, standing there, looking forward to her hands all over his body this time.

He was half hard over sliding his hands all over her body, so there was no hiding that he really enjoyed her 'company' here in the shower. He had plans involving her laying on the built in bench---but they would wait just a little bit longer.

[User]
Vicky turned when he motioned her to, grinning as he groped her rear, pressing herself back ever so slightly against him to try to encourage him to feel comfortable. To show him that she was willing to be here.

"You'd be surprised how nice overeager can be. And you're far from being a jerk, believe me." She turned again, letting the water rinse the soap off her, and she took the soap from him, kneeling down and starting with his feet, the kneeling, crouched girl doing a rather nice impression of a supplicant slave girl while she worked her way up until she was kneeling, placing a kiss on his thigh as she looked at his growing erection. "Why not combine relaxation and pleasure?"

She wrapped her lips around his cock, drawing it into her mouth and sucking lightly, looking up at him for approval to continue.

[Assistant]
Jonesy was reminded of her slave outfit the moment she dropped down to her knees---the action so fluid, so comfortable looking. She did so with a grace that hinted at how often she had done so. She spoke, and he smiled down, listening, and enjoying her hands on him as he knew he would... but then she changed the game.

It happened in another, quick, effortless seeming action---and his cock slipped into her mouth all while her hands remained on his legs. "Holy shit..." he muttered, watching his shaft vanish into her warm mouth. She looked up at him, and he just looked down in awe. If she was expecting him to stop her, she was mistaken; instead he just moved a hand to the wall to help brace himself.

"I have to say, I find your argument rather compelling..." Jonesy chuckled and continued to watch her. She was mesmerizing, lathering up his body while sucking his cock, and seemed both totally content and extremely proficient at both! He looked on as she indeed brought both pleasure and he felt more relaxed with what she was doing here.

Thrilling as it might be to get a paid hooker for a week, he had to admit he had some reservations about it. This was his neighbor, the cute girl across the hall. He had wondered all night if she was alright, if she needed any help. Did she pick this line of work, as some reportedly did? Or was she coerced into this somehow, left with no other way out? As her lips slid up and down his cock, and those playful eyes looked up at him, he had to figure she chose this. She was too good, and looked to be too comfortable at it. And she started it!

"Oh god Vicky..." he muttered again, having totally lost track, or interest if he was getting clean or not. Only her lips, her tongue, and the rest of her hot mouth sliding along his length mattered. That and her eyes glancing up at him. He moaned, knowing he was minutes away from cuming in her mouth, and damned little could stop that now. Fuck it had been awhile, and never as good at this... and this was just the beginning!

It was that thought, the idea of what all was to come fro a whole week that crumbled any resolve he had to hold back. He grunted and his knees threatened to buckle as he filled her mouth with hot cum, trying to keep his eyes own as she drained him... trying to meet that amazing, sexual, knowing gaze of hers.

[User]
Vicky almost laughed at his exclamation as she took him into her mouth, still idly lather him, mostly as an excuse to keep running her hands over him, to draw his attention and, as she sucked him and drew him deeper into her mouth, as a little bit of leverage. She felt his hesitation---and then felt it melt as she started bobbing her head, her tongue dancing over him as she took him deeper, the blowjob intense and indulgent. She was, after all, very good at this. His nervousness seemed to fade away, taken over by pleasure as she slid up and down his shaft, and his legs tensed, signaling he was close. She pushed herself deeper, taking all of him in her mouth as he came, the woman kneeling at his feet ably swallowing his pent up pleasure, letting out a soft, approving moan that vibrated over his sensitive skin.

Rising, she smiled, taking the soap and finishing with his abdomen and chest. "I thought maybe I should help set the right tone... give you some idea of what your... client... paid for."

[Assistant]
Without a doubt, it was the best blowjob he'd ever had. There was something to be said of the experience of a professional, even in this, it seemed. As he stood, one hand braced on the wall while she finished, then stood and completed lathering him up, Jonesy just seemed to stand there in amazement.

He laughed, fully, at her comment, and nodded. "Well if your line of work have comment cards, remind me to fill one out regarding your superb work ethic." He chuckled again, looking over her amazing body and just smiled. "Fair enough, lets get washed up, and get out of here. I think I'm up for a little more fun before I pass out this morning." The fact it was close to 6 AM, and he should be sleeping wasn't lost on him, he just didn't care at the moment.

He rinsed off, smiling at her nearly the whole time, and stepped from the shower to grab them each towels. He tossed on to her and dried himself off. "Tell you what Vicky, you go put on whatever you brought over for bed, I'll leave a few messages for my crew saying I'll be late, and we can screw about in bed until we pass out." He was sure she had to be as tired as he was, she'd been working almost as long, and probably harder, than he had.

Moments later he tossed the comm tablet back to the desk and removed the towel from around his waist, hanging it up to dry. From there he walked to his bed, a simple, but large affair with a dark, Asian lattice style headboard. He had dark furniture in the room to match, and he looked about it all with a wry grin. Probably hopelessly bachelor, but nice enough---even if she was paid, Jonesy figured it was a nice enough room to entertain a woman in. Probably not at all like the lavish furnishings of the men that could afford her---but nice enough.

Laying in the center of the bed he waited with a smile, looking forward to seeing his guest/week long benefit return.


[User]
Pallira's question did not, exactly, catch Nikeo off-guard, but it did give him pause. Good. A man too confident in his own knowledge would be difficult to teach. Little of the way he carried himself suggested he was truly a king, honestly, but if he would at least consider what made a good king, then that boded well for Pallira's instruction---even if she was uncertain of how much she could teach him of kingship. She was a warrior, not a ruler; her island domain had doubled in population by his arrival.

The first things he suggested were basic. Any man ought to be brave, ought to honor the gods, ought to stand by his word and his friends. But a good man was the first step to being a good king, and the pious altruism Nikeo described completed the regal package, at least to a degree. It was, perhaps, not the answer a good king would have given, but it was the answer of a good man. That was enough for her.

"You know something after all," Pallira said, at last hopping down from her perch to stand more-or-less equal to him on the sands. Coming closer, she could smell the distinctive odor of livestock on his clothes, something the salt-air of the sea could not quite wash away. "You were a shepherd, once," she said, only half asking to confirm what she already suspected, before stepping away and beckoning him to follow her to her home. "Have you ever had to defend your flock?" There was something of kingship in that, surprisingly.

[Assistant]
Nikeo felt a small sting. Though rationally he knew that he had been raised in modest circumstances, her almost condescending dismissal of his best attempt at an answer aroused the young man's pride a bit despite his fascination with the woman. His irritation, however, was quickly erased and he looked at the woman without understanding for a moment at her next question. Without thinking, he shrugged his shoulders dismissively, while his face showed a total guilelessness---the involuntary gesture not one of lack of respect, but rather of the naturalness of the answer to the question.

"Of course. Every shepherd has to defend his flock. Wolves and jackals are abound in the hills and on the mountain pastures. If you are not constantly on your guard, they will get a lamb, or an ewe. Sometimes, even then." He waited for her reaction on that new answer, which was, again, the truth as he saw it, if not especially worthy of special mention---it was simply the mindset his foster father had instilled in him. Nikeo used what opportunity Pallira granted him to further study the mysterious woman. The first impression of beauty and strength held up to further scrutiny easily, he found. Standing eye to eye with him, there was not exactly a glow, but certainly a flawlessness in her appearance that seemed a little too perfect, making her claim at being Athena's daughter less incredible.

Meanwhile, the firmness of her bare limbs made it more than believable that her claim that she could---that she would---teach him to fight was no idle boast, and suddenly, Nikeo felt sure that the girl could hold herself against a wolf or mountain lynx at least as good as he believed he could himself.

And then... it seemed inappropriate to even think that knowing literally nothing of her, but there was that strange mixture of feelings in the pit of Nikeo's stomach. Part of it, the part that made his skin tingle at the half-thought thought of what Pallira's body would feel like under his fingertips and against his own skin. The other part was less clear to him, somewhat darker and yet at least as alluring as the more immediate desire for the beautiful woman.

Nikeo shook off the strange thoughts when Pallira signalled that she had finished her own study of her counterpart, and when she indicated he follow her, he nodded, not exactly submissively, but following her lead for now at least, hefting his bundle and walking up to the woman's side.

[User]
The odor of livestock had proven Nikeo a shepherd, and that would pass with time. What would not wash from him was understanding the duty of defense. He understood it clearly, bore it as part of his character. Listening to his explanation, his regret at not saving every sheep, Pallira smiled, recognizing the core of kingship.

"A king's first duty to his people is not to order them, but to protect them," she said. "People tend to be smarter than sheep, but there are men like jackals, and you must be prepared to fight them, and lead your warriors in defense." As they spoke, she led the youth along a definite but uneven path, going from sand to rocks in a gradual ascent wending between outcrops and patches of scrub. She had walked the path down easily in bare feet, but previous protégés of hers had stumbled and struggled, a portent of their success in her tutelage. A shepherd might do better than they had, and that would be useful to know for the daughter of owl-eyed Athena. Everything was useful to know, to understand where he might excel and where he might struggle, what he had and what he lacked.

"How do you defend your flock?" Pallira asked. "What weapons can combat the wolf and the jackal?" These things, too, were useful to know---perhaps if she understood how he fought an animal, she could help him better to fight a man. Or a woman, for now.

Before long, they crested one hill to behold a wide natural yard dotted with a few scarred trees. Across that stood her house, a two-story structure composited of dry stone, wood, and whitewashed plaster, crowned with an orange roof. "There is home," she said, nodding at the structure. Behind it the path continued back down the hill to the stream where she bathed, and further onward to the more difficult path that led to Mother's shrine.

[Assistant]
Nikeo nodded, feeling somewhat reassured by her words, not so much because of their meaning themselves, though they were good words, too. Rather, her lecture was much akin to those that Poliarkes had told him at least a half-dozen times, and the familiar theme, as well as the realization that Pallira apparently shared his foster father's ethics, put his guarded mind at ease a little.

He tried to pay equal attention at his guide's words and the path she led him on. Despite his unfamiliarity with the way, his sandaled feet, used to the cliffs and crags of his native hill-lands, found no struggle with the ground while his eyes tried to commit to memory the route they were taking. There were a lot of new impressions to take in, and between paying attention to Pallira's lesson and the path, her scrutiny of him remained hidden from his attention.

Nikeo managed to suppress the shrug on her next question, instead looking at Pallira for a moment questioningly, trying to judge whether she was making fun of him by asking such a mundane question---the shepherd's weapons were after all rather universal throughout the land and unchanged since times immemorial.

"The sling, the javelin and the stave," he said, a little guardedly, "though they rarely do more than scare away the beast rather than make sure they don't bother the flock anymore for good." Even before Pallira could comment on that, Nikeo felt a wave of embarrassment. Even though it was stupid, not least because in essence, that was what he was despite his recently-discovered lineage, he did not want her to think of him as merely some rural country boy. "Though my father had taught me how to wield a sword, and the round shield for some two years now, too," he added quickly, then, listening to how sullen his words sounded even to his own ears, quickly fell quiet again.

Thankfully, it was not long before something else demanded their attention as Pallira announced the structure appearing in the fields below them her home---and by their earlier arrangement, his, too, and Nikeo took a moment to take it in. It was smaller than he would have expected a goddess'---he still was not fully convinced that her claim to that status held true---palace, though it was larger than his family's homestead, and more richly in materials and craftsmanship. Then, it was approachable enough to think it might feel like home once he got used to it, and after a moment he averted his eyes to Pallira. "It looks very nice," he said, his voice honest, before they turned back towards the path, now easily visible as they walked down the last stretch of the way.

[User]
Two of the weapons Pallira had expected, and she could not conceal her surprise at the other one. "The javelin? Mm, good," she replied, already thinking. She had anticipated the sling and the staff, and having to progress from there to the javelin, before even considering a shield. If he already knew that javelin, so much better the foundation for her tutelage. "All of those weapons can be a warrior's weapons, son of Poliarkes," she said, intending to reassure before presenting the challenges yet to come. "Understand, though, that you have much more to learn, no matter how much you know. A man's life is always learning to live; just so a warrior's life is always learning to fight."

Truthfully, she was already optimistic. He had made his way with fine agility, his vitality not diminished an iota, and answered her questions with an honesty that suggested what he might already know. But that was it---it only suggested possibility. To know required a test, but that could wait.

A smile flickered across her face at his compliment to her dwelling. It was humble, though built with divine aid, and certainly not meant to impress. The hardwood door swung inward with an aged groan, as if attempting to undercut the house's dignity or give Nikeo some warning. Immediately inside was bare aside from a large amphora of oil, a jar of water with basin, and Pallira's javelin, in the corner where she had left it by her sandals. Stepping from the beaten earth to cool stone, Pallira made a quick ablution of her feet, giving the clear implication that Nikeo ought to do likewise before entering the main chamber of the house.

This room was larger in every dimension, with a lofted platform in one end and the hearth on the other. Between these poles were scattered a table and some stools---a functional space, for all of the basics of living. The hearth still burned, and perhaps an observer would question why a jar rested in its coals. The dominant feature of this room, however, looked directly at the entrance. A wood manikin bore Pallira's panoply, a white-plated helmet, bronze-scaled corselet, and hide-fronted shield, two cutaways forming a sort of waist in an otherwise perfect circle. On the wall, too, were hung swords and spears, both trainers and true weapons. How many of them Pallira considered her own was anyone's guess.

Turning from her old panoply to her new ward, Pallira smiled warmly. "We will find space for your things in due time, I am sure. Most voyages here are long---would you like something to eat?"

[Assistant]
Though he kept most of his attention on the woman leading them, Nikeo did not fail to get a good look around as they approached the house---if this was to be his new home, for the time being at least, it would do well to become acquainted with the surroundings as quickly as possible. Without conscious thought, he registered the sprinkling of foliage, most of them low olive trees barely twice his size casting sparse shadow on the surrounding grasslands, and a number of hedges his shepherd's mind immediately processed for its impact on a wandering flock. He was stirred from his observations by her next comment, and he felt a bristling notion in his head at her affirmation that there was much to learn, but then, he suppressed it. She was probably right---there was always something new to learn, and regardless of whether she really was just a woman or indeed the goddess she claimed she was, he reckoned that he would not have been sent here if there was nothing she could teach him, so he simply nodded.

When they reached the house and stepped inside, Nikeo gave the bare ante-chamber a quick inspection, noting that, beyond the simplicity of it, it was kept immaculate. His gaze then returned to his host as she took off her sandals and began her ablution in the low stone basin, and with a slight rise of heat in his cheeks, he found his eyes glued to Pallira's form wandering from the curve of her turned back and behind to her hands deftly brushing the dust of the road from her feet. The image stirred something within him that he could not quite place, but instinctively, he felt that it was personal, intimate even, and after a moment, he turned his gaze, peering past Pallira through the adjacent doorway as he waited for her to vacate the basin to allow him to follow her example.

After Nikeo, too, had cleaned his feet after her unspoken command, he followed her to the inner chamber slowly, noticing at once, with a boyish excitement that he tried to ignore as he found it rather un-befitting, Pallira's panoply. If nothing else yet, the sight of the mirror-polished bronze blinking in the sunlight streaming in from the large windows made the best case in his mind for her Olympian heritage. If the gods walked on earth, they probably had armor like this, Nikeo was sure. He turned towards her only when he heard her speak again, cuffing himself about the ear mentally even though he could not have said whether he had looked at the weapons and armor longingly for just a moment or longer, and whether or not she had noticed, but either way, it took him a few heartbeats to process her question.

"I---uhm, yes, sure... I mean, I would appreciate that," he said then, trying to brush over his embarrassment by making a point of looking at the rest of the room. His eyes caught up on the raised dais, wondering for a moment as to its purpose. Was it a sleeping area, where, on some unseen at this time of day pallet Pallira would rest at night? He shelved the thought for now, inspecting in short order the furniture and the hearth, noticing the jar in the ashes without thinking much of it. At last, he made a few steps coming to stand next to the table, setting down for now his bundle even as he nodded at Pallira's words. It seemed a bit strange that she would have to figure out where to put him in his mind---after all, the way he had understood it, she was used to having students to teach her arts to, but he did not question her about it.

Instead, he turned to face her, as if looking for her guidance as to his role, in this moment as much as in the greater scheme of things, then, after a few silent moments, made a decision. "I---I mean, I can help if you tell me what to do?"

[User]
His nonplussed reaction only broadened Pallira's smile from a mere formality into a marker of wry amusement. Of course her panoply entranced him. He'd probably heard stories of such things, maybe seen whatever his foster-father could have provided for his practice. Even the humblest pieces had fired his imagination, had built up dreams which only a panoply like hers could prove true. Even her armor was admittedly inferior to others she had seen in times past---the shining plates of Achilles, for instance, or her second mother's incomparable Aegis. Something like this was more befitting her, or perhaps befitting this youth if he should become a hero after all.

And yet, before becoming a hero, he humbled himself to help his teacher. Noble of him, she noted, more befitting a hero than a king. "You've made bread, yes?" It only seemed natural that a shepherd would know such things, so instead of belaboring that topic she ran through the jars that lined the wall by the hearth. "That jar has flour, that one oil, those small ones salt and honey, and the big one is water. Mix enough for both of us."

Bread and some opson would be their only food for now---a more filling stew was cooking slowly on on the hearth. Making a space for baking even two small loaves, without diminishing the heat under the stew, occupied most of Pallira's attention as she carefully found a spot and covered it with a metal dome, trapping the heat until the bread was ready to bake. Nikeo's efforts merited only a few cursory glances, not without quiet approval, before she went to a different set of jars to peruse for the opson. There was enough of any, so she gave him a choice. "Fish or olive, lad?"


[User]
Again, Esti could feel the need emanating from her roommate. It was stupid if her really. She had promised not to use her powers to seduce Razor. Her other charms were not lacking, but the process was still not nearly as quick. Furthermore, Esti really liked the pretty punk girl and didn't want to come on too strong and fuck things all up. It all led to a rather unbelievable conclusion... Esti was going to be going to bed alone when she did not want to. In all her time among humans, she was pretty sure that was a first. True she could go out and hook up in the nearest bar at a moment's notice, but she found herself willing to hold out for Razor. Sure it might be a touch arrogant to assume the situation was a when not an if, but when you could read another person's emotions it was painfully obvious that she found Esti arousing.

She smiled brightly, showing her fangs. At the comment about the schoolgirl outfit. "It sounds adorable, and we will see how we fair. I hope it works out." Hearing about the impending party, she smiled. "Well, it is reassuring. I know it's early days yet, but I am really liking our roommate situation and I would not want to fuck it up. You... way more important than a little side action." The red-skinned demon's face twisting into a fleeting grimace that she hoped Razor didn't see. Side action implied that Esti had a main something going on and the was way forward of her to assume. "Ummm, yeah, I totally see how you wouldn't have trouble getting someone to bed with you." _smooth recovery_ her inside voice mocked her. Nine Hells, how did this little punk college girl get her so wound up? She'd slept with fucking Caesars back in the day without breaking a sweat. Now Razor had her thankful that her red skin really hid a blush well.

Watching Razor stretch had the demon's eyes hungrily taking in the sight and the yawn was just so fricking cute. The soft word 'Hun' so simple and innocent had her heart doing a weird flutter and she gave a little wave to her retreating roommate. "Night." She murmured, staring at the door for a long moment after it closed. What in the fresh-fucked fuck was Razor doing to her? Was it something to do with her being able to see through the magic? Did she have some weird powers of her own? Was she descended from the demon Hunter clans, those assholes had all sorts of weird shit up their sleeves? Or was she just an honest and genuine, slightly awkward in the most adorable way, human girl that had Esti smitten? She did not know which she found the most frightening.

After putting the jambalaya away---setting a good amount into a separate Tupperware container for Razor to take for her lunch---she busied herself tidying things that she had already tidied. She needed much less sleep than a human but something about laying in her bed alone seemed extra depressing. Still, she supposed she should not traipse around the apartment with Esti and the neighbors below likely trying to sleep. Plopping onto her bed, she gave a heavy sigh and pouted. Reluctantly, her hand slid down her front shorts and touched herself. Rolling onto her stomach, her hips rocked against the stroke of her fingers. In her mind it was Razor's fingers, the pink gif feeling her how much she loved the sight of her squirming. The touch was equal parts tender and rough. Commanding but with and eye to giving Esti pleasure, the fingers stroked over her clit before plunging inside. Burying her face in her pillow, she moaned her roommate's name. Nine hells, what had Razor done to her??

[Assistant]
Razor stripped down to her panties, face-planted on the bed, and soon was the closest thing to dead she could be without being actually, you know. Dead.

That didn't mean she was peaceful, though. In her dreams, every picture she took had Esti in it, horns and tongue jutting out of the print in lewd and suggestive ways. Or she was running naked through a maze of mirror, each of which reflected someone in her life---mostly the annoying ones, like that ASSHAT of a TA, but some of them were folks she'd fucked, or would like to fuck, or would invite to the party in hopes of getting to fuck; still some others were just random folks she knew, fam and classmates and such---with her roommate's giggle leading her on through the endless, chilly world of glass. All she knew was that she had to catch up with the demon girl, or something bad was going to happen. To one of them, maybe both.

The one that woke her, though, had her tied and wriggling on top of a pile of other squirming bodies, as her horny friend slowly worked the biggest dildo she had ever seen into---

Yeah. She woke with a loud groan, tangled (tied) in her sheets, her pillow crushed between her legs and her knickers soaked through. Wow. It had been a long time since she'd had a dream that actually set her off in her sleep. If only it hadn't been so creepy, it would have been a damn good dream. As it was...

Shedding her soaked panties, she tossed them in a pile with the rest of her laundry, scrubbed at her eyes, and checked her clock. Five. Fucking. Ay Emm. Well, it gave her time for a shower before she woke Esti, and despite (because of?) her sleeping near-screamer, she felt a lot more rested and alert than she usually would have at that hour.

Twenty minutes later, she pushed the button on the raggedy-ass coffee pot and, wrapped in a robe for her body and a towel for her hair, tapped quietly on the door to the second bedroom. "Hey, E," she whispered through the crack once she'd eased it open a bit. "I need to get going pretty soon, so, like, if you're coming...?"

[User]
Esti was so lost in her pleasure, in the fantasy that it was Razor's fingers, not her own, that were touching her. Her hips rocked harder against the erratic thrust of her fingers. Feeling the fabric of the shorts against her skin it felt so restricting and she awkwardly shoved them down her legs to kick them off. Her mounting sexual frustration had her riding her fingers even harder. She just needed to get off and then she would be able to fall asleep. Images of Razor filled her head. That innocent stretch that had so tantalized Esti, the way she looked in disbelief when they first met, the way that she tugged on her horn, that fucking smile... oh fuck, what had her pretty, punk roommate done to her?

Her breathing quickened and her body started to move on it's own. So often she was the sexual aggressor, it was just part of being a demon, but her fantasy had Razor easily having Esti submit, because she wanted to please the human, to earn her affection. It was obvious that Esti was buzzing off of her roommate's happiness while eating her cooking. It made her feel good to do nice things for the beautiful student, and in her mind that extended into laying between Razor's thighs while the young woman tugged her short horns to keep her mouth firmly where it belonged as her pleasure reached its peak.

The images morphed strangely, and Esti could feel skin against hers, though Razor still laid spread out before her. It was a strange feeling when hands, too many hands, started to grope and tease while she found her new friend suddenly wound in rope and leather, gloriously gorgeous i her helplessness. A toy fit for a true size queen jutted from her hips and she could not seem to stop herself from pushing it into the almost too tight opening. The thoughts spiraled from there and Esti was lost in the pleasure of her fingers while she imagined taking the eagerly assenting beauty, that she did not hear said beauty rise, nor the shower turning on. She didn't hear to soft knock and with her eyes squeezed shut she did not see the sliver of light lance through the room when the door was cracked. On the other hand, her roommate could not have missed the breathless moan from Esti's panting lips. "Razor..."

[Assistant]
The door open only a sliver, the breath Razor was drawing to call quietly to Esti again froze in her chest, and she could feel herself flush. She knew, pretty damn well, what made a girl make that sort of noise. OK, sure, it was technically possible that her roomie had overindulged in her own cooking, and had a Jambalaya stomach ache. Pretty doubtful, though, especially with her being, you know. A demon of lust and all.

And she had called out Razor's name. It wasn't almost walking in on Esti rubbing one out that embarrassed her---that sort of thing happened a lot when you shared close quarters with someone. You got over it. It was her own name being the demon's O-word... well, that and the fact that Razor was pretty sure she'd done the exact same damn thing not all that long ago. How weird was it that they should be dreaming about each other? Was it some sort of demon magic, Esti putting the whammy on her, like a fishing lure? Or was it more innocent, just the pair of them being young and cute and more or less perpetually horny?

The second would be awkward enough (though why it should be, the student couldn't really quite explain to herself); the first would be intolerable. They'd have to talk about it... but how? She doubted her galpal would really object if she just brought it up directly, but Razor wasn't sure she'd ever live down a conversation that started with, ''So, I had a wet dream about you the other night, and I wanted to be sure it was me being hot for you, and not you doing something weird to my head...''

It was wayyyy to early to think about it then, anyway, So instead, she eased the door shut, waited a count of five, then knocked again, a tad more loudly, as if it were for the first time. "E? I gotta get going soon, girl. You coming with?"

[User]
Esti was lost in her thoughts. As her fingers pushed into her dripping slit, she imagined it was Razor and a strap-on giving it to her. She was normally better able to control Her urges. It only made sense if Razor was also having similar thoughts and feelings. As a succubus she was sensitive to the emotions of others and with her feelings towards her roommate, that little extra push was all it would have taken. There was something so lovely about the idea that Razor felt the same way. Or maybe she was just exceptionally attracted to the young punk woman and she was responding to her own wants and desires. Best to tread carefully until then. She wouldn't want to scare the poor thing off. It's amazing that she could see what Esti really was and hadn't run off screaming.

The sudden interruption of real life Razor caught Esti off guard. Her eyes widened and she tried to think back to if she had been keeping everything internal. Thinking back she was pretty sure that she had managed to keep quiet. Boy would that be an awkward conversation.

"Umm, yeah, I... just a sec , I'll be right out." There was a little random banging and clattering and when she opened the door there was the almost overpowering scent of perfume. "Hey, I'm sorry. I guess I overslept." Esti's eyes flitted around and it became clear in a few moments that the young demon was looking for signs that Razor had heard her in her room. "I... I put some leftovers in a container if you wanted to take it for lunch." She gestured vaguely toward the kitchen. "Or if not that's okay too." Inwardly, Esti groaned at how flustered and terribly not smooth she was being.

[Assistant]
Razor's eyes started to water even before the door was all the way open. Holy fuck that was a lot of perfume. She'd never noticed that Esti really wore any before, sooooo... a couple of things occurred to her that you might want to cover up that way. But her roomie didn't seem like a pothead---suddenly she remembered the dream and started hoping the demon girl had a serious drug problem. Because the other main thing to cover up that way was... and that would be way to weird. Not entirely in a bad way, just... awkward. Big time.

"Yeah... leftovers sound great," she mumbled, blushing yet again. When sis she ever blush? But leftovers made her think 'sloppy seconds', which made her blush all over again. "Just throw on whatever. Mostly i need to do makeup shots for the stuff I fucked up. But I was to get some test of you, casual, you know." Certainly nothing Lolita or anything like that. Not after last night. "I'll buy you some coffee somewhere, too. But get a wiggle on, huh? Got classes later."

[User]
"Okay, yeah right, hurry. Umm, just give me a second and I'll make myself presentable." _and not soaked at the thought of that pretty face between my legs_ The thought came unbidden to her mind. She practically slammed the door in Razor's face and leaned her forehead against it. Fuck, was Razor even more special than she thought? Was it more than just the ability to see her true form? She had never felt so out of control, and if her roommate had some manner of latent power that might explain it. She did not think it was something Razor was doing intentionally, but something was up, it had to be. She could not be so aroused just because she liked Razor, right?

Thoughts like that would have to wait, she needed to get ready. She opted for simply a pair of ass-hugging jeans, a form-fitting black crop top and a pair of sandals. Leaving her hair in that cute messy state, she stepped out of the bedroom. "Morning roomie. Sorry I was a little late getting up. I had a... weird sleep. How's about you?" She was looking forward to posing for Razor. She wanted to look good but still casual like Razor said. "What do you think? Am I worthy to be your subject?"

[Assistant]
Wow. The outfit wasn't what Razor would've picked for her first photos of Esti, but dayummmm. Especially with the horns and the red skin---which were clear as day to the student, even if no one else could see them---the demon looked like an anime wet dream. Big surprise.

Speaking of dreams... the mention of sleep made the pale punk pale even further. How did she know? Did she know, really? Was she responsible? Some funky... demonic essence, or scent, or whatever? Another funky scent, that was.

Maybe it was just a reaction to the oddity of the situation. And the fact that it had been a couple of weeks since she'd gotten properly laid. "I often don't sleep well," she said, giving a casual shrug and hoping she looked as cool as she was trying to be. It wasn't a lie either: if she wasn't stressing about school, or getting her ovaries pounded out, she was prone to add dreams anyway. Odd---not pornographic. Usually.

"And you look great," she rolled on by. "Though at some point, I might wanna put some gold foil on your horns. And do you use makeup, like, ever?" Did demons, even succubusses... succubi... huh. Hellsluts. Even need it? "It might be fun to really make you up, all RAWR an' junk. But first, let's see if this even works." Grabbing her keys, she headed for the door. And hoped she wasn't squirming as much as she felt like she was.

[User]
Esti but her lip, feeling a rare moment of self-consciousness. Had Razor heard her? Had she been louder than she thought? Something was up, her new roommate seemed... off. She just smiled softly, trying to resist the urge to overthink. Razor said that she had not slept well, that might be all it was. "Well, all the more reason to have that party we were discussing. Maybe you'll find someone to tire you out." She giggled, unable to resist even with her worry that something was wrong. She almost drifted off thinking about the fun that she could have being the one to tire Razor out but shooting it off. Time for that later.

"Thanks." She said, shivering slightly at the compliment. "I don't usually wear makeup, but I'm yours to do with as you see fit. Whatever you would like to do, I'm game." There was mischief in her eyes, practically begging the punk girl to take that statement literally. "So, lead on." She smiled before running back to the kitchen and grabbing the Tupperware container with leftovers and a spoon. "In case you get hungry later. OK, now lead on!"

[Assistant]
It was early enough that there were still thin streamers of fog hanging in the air as they got close to the waterfront. Like pushy, horny ghosts they brushed over Esti and Razor's hips as they headed for the location the student had planned for her shoot.

For all the morning had started out weird, she was glad Esti was with her. Not that the neighborhood was 'bad', but it wasn't great, and though even most of the homeless who haunted the docks were still sacked out (literally, in some cases, wrapping themselves in green garbage bags), Razor figured she was safer with a companion. Especially if that companion was, you know. A hellspawn. On the other hand, the very fact that Esti was a succubus might mean more creepy attention---gah. The odd muffling of sound caused by the lingering fog, the cry of the occasional gull, the morning traffic sounds; everything had her jumpy, looking behind her. The terribly sexy dream not the least, along with the sneaking suspicion that her roomie had something to do with it.

They finally reached the area she chosen to shoot, moored work boats in the foreground, and the cliffs on the opposite side of the harbor forming a backdrop. The light still wasn't great, but the emo gloom caused by the thready, low cloud cover fit her disturbed mood.

"Here we are," she said, gesturing to the line of pilings along the dock edge. "Sit, get comfy, let me set up. Then we'll... see what the lens can see."

[User]
Esti followed behind Razor, trying to curb her less than PG thoughts but unable to resist the way the other girl moved and that hot little backside she just wanted to molest. The succubus was not sure what to make of the choice of location. The neighborhood seemed a little run down, but the eerie fog and the surreal look of it was very enticing from a photographer's standpoint. Besides, bad neighborhood or not, she would not let anything happen to Razor. Anyone dumb enough to think they were helpless would learn a painful, testicle retrieval operation type of lesson.

Seeing where Razor had chosen to shoot, Esti had to smile. It was quite lovely in a desolate sort of way. She couldn't help but bite her lip at the sight of Razor. She wished she was the one with the camera. A candid shot of the woman lost in thought as she walked through the fog would have been beautiful. She was beautiful in that effortless way. The way she carried herself, the punk aesthetic, the way fact that she could see Esti for who she really was and wasn't terrified, it was all just wonderful.

"Yes ma'am!" She chirped happily and wandered over to the pilings, the natural sway in her hips likely to draw Razor's attention. She sat demurely and tried to hide her sudden nervousness. She was not sure that Razor's plan would work, and she hated the idea of disappointing her new friend.