“Succubi are not born, they are made, and you have been selected”.
With the distance between you closed in just two short strides, you feel the slickness of your now-moist lips as she presses herself against them. Before you’ve any time to even contemplate offering some kind of resistance, with purpose, she pushes the full length of herself inside. The bonds that once restrained your wrists slip away at last, and you feel the cool air licking at the welts of your initial defiance, but now you find you barely notice. Hands raised, tightly gripped around her mass, she’s already filling you - and you’ve already begun to accept.“
Ritual - lineart