Demoness
Demonic Seduction
A Satanic Stripper
is Conjured to Demonic duty
in Medieval Paris
***
She purred as he reached
out his soft fingers and pulled the golden ribbon
ties. The chemise fell in a whisper of silk, revealing
her pointed nipples and pouting breasts. Her muscular
stomach rolled under his warm fingers as he touched
her heated flesh. Slowly she turned to present her
rounded buttocks, shaking them, the flesh jiggling
invitingly. She dropped her hands to the floor as
she stood straight-legged, presenting him with a close
view of her most feminine flesh, the folds parting
to his hungry eyes.
"Not a mark on
you," he said in wonder. "Not a single imperfection
anywhere," he sighed.
The music whirled
her away and she danced as only naked flesh could,
without bindings or restraints. Her hair flying and
muscles straining, she leapt and rolled, shivered
and displayed herself to the Monsignor's hungry gaze,
and she danced, and she danced.
"Enough!"
the Monsignor suddenly shouted.
The music crashed
to a halt and Cassandra fell in a graceful obeisance,
centered on the carpet.
"Leave us!"
he roared. The Gypsies rushed out, but the guards
were hesitant.
"Do you think
I can't defend myself against one naked girl?"
he shouted angrily. The guards fled.
Goody! Goody! Goody!
ran in hysterical circles through Cassandra's mind.
Alone at last!
"And now my sweet,
come here," the Monsignor commanded.
She approached the throne, creeping across the rug,
eyes demurely lowered, veiling her intent, on her
hands and toes like a languorous cat advancing on
the poor unsuspecting pigeon.
Still wrapped in a
warm sheet of demonic power, Cassandra's body slithered
up the throne without touching a single fold of his
robes. Shyly, she gripped the arms of the heavy wooden
chair then leaned toward the seated Monsignor, presenting
her body for his perusal.
The Monsignor's palm
touched the fine silk of her hair and he ran his fingers
through her soft tresses. His fingers trailed to the
very ends of her curls where they rested against her
breast. His fingers continued across the softness
of her skin, then cupped her fullness in his cool
dry palm.
"You are exquisite,
like a fine sculpture, Serena," he whispered.
His fingers found and explored a dusky pink nipple.
Little jolts of pleasure streaked straight to her
greedy pussy, making it contract hungrily. "I
have never seen a woman as fine as you. Where did
you come from?"
