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Coco was a little amazed by how quickly she’d developed a soft spot for this one. Succubus charm, perhaps. They were rather peculiar creatures, after all. “Perhaps. But I didn’t mean as if they would keep you.” Emerson belonged to Coco. It wouldn’t be hard for someone to kill her during an uproar within the city. It wouldn’t have been her first loss, nor one because of retaliation. She knew those all too well. Fortunately, she was too pretty for Coco to want to kill herself.

“When Brandon or I tell you to stay in this house, it is for your protection, Emerson. Do I make myself clear?” Those wild green eyes flickered up to meet her gaze. The mistress smirked, “Always remember… I don’t have to cause you physical pain to punish you, my love.” Her hand lowered and her fingers hiked up the girl’s skirt. She’d dropped a pretty penny on Emerson’s wardrobe, and her favorite outfit was STILL her birthday suit.

“Do you want me to touch you, Emerson?” The tip of her nail ghosted over the fabric of the other demon’s panties.

“Oh,” she murmured. Emerson never thought about the worst possible outcome. She wanted to believe that she could protect herself but, in this city, there were  creatures far more powerful than her. Running into the dragon had been proof of that. He hadn’t hurt her but he could have if he wanted too. Whilst she was a slave, she had a loyalty to Colombia and if it came to it, she knew she’d fight to get back to her. To die would feel like she had disappointed her. 

“Yes, mistress. It won’t happen again,” she promised. The entire ordeal had been proof of why she shouldn’t disobey them. There was nothing out there for her, not compared to her home with the Colombia and Brandon. They both took care of her and she shouldn’t take that for granted. She’d been claimed by master’s before and it was nothing like the arrangement she had. 

SOFT NSFW ASKS - ✸ for a drabble about my muse having a sex dream about yours for @twistcd

She had followed her mistress to work that day. The club was always busy and made her feel like she was surrounded by people when she often felt alone. Moving through the patrons, she used power and spread sexual desire through the crowd. It was good for the business and Emerson enjoyed getting to feed off the energy.

Emerson caught sight of a man through the crowd, seeing him smirk as he took a drink. She didn’t know what it was about him but her teeth tugged at her lip, making her eyes trace the visible tattoos. As their eyes met, she looked away feeling a little shy about being caught out but she was still meant to be focusing on the crowd. It took her some time to effect everyone in the club and by then she felt tired. Perching herself on a sofa near the bar, she felt her eyes start to lull. 

Without realising it, she fell asleep but her mind was still working, still drinking in all the sexual desire that was pouring out of the bar’s patrons. It slipped into her dreams, warping them into something more sexual than she had expected. The same man was in her dreams, that same smirk on his lips as he pulled her into the hall and hiked up her skirt. Emerson wrapped her legs around for him easily, grinding against his length in desperate need for some friction between their bodies. 

The dream was a mess of lips and limbs tangling together in a desperate need for pleasure. Even in her dreams, Emerson’s hips rocked, her hand slipping down to her thighs. 

A SERIES OF HEADCANON PROMPTS INSPIRED BY DISNEY MOVIES

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs: How trusting of strangers is your muse? Would they accept a gift from a stranger?

Brandon knew Coco could dish out pain (and pleasure) like no one else. He didn’t need to know the details, but he knew Emerson needed a bit of balance from that punishment. After all, he wasn’t lying when he praised her for being a good girl. They knew that, and evidently she did as well. 

Brandon smiled as he felt and saw the blonde shift a bit just so his lips could discover her body even more. Kissing her cleavage wasn’t enough. He took her shirt, pulled it off her, and quickly reached behind to undo her bra. It was very unlike him what with the ripping he always liked to do, but he was treating her gently. However, the way his mouth clamped around her tits showed a bit of ferocity.

He loved the feeling of her sucking his fingers dry but it also disappointed him. She tasted herself, and now he wanted to taste her too. Getting up from the chair with ease with her legs wrapped around him, he turned around and placed her on the seat. Gently, he pushed her legs wide open while his gaze remained on hers.

“Good girls deserve a treat,” he whispered huskily as he trailed kisses on the inside of her thighs before pulling her panties down. He inched closer to her core, feeling the heat emanating from it, and gave a steady, cool, teasing breath that hit her clit. He smirked as he looked up at her once more. “Right?”  

He didn’t wait for a reply. His mouth and tongue delved into her, savoring and lapping up her juices.

Emerson had been claimed before, she had been used and punished and hurt. It still felt like a surprise when Brandon and Colombia treated her well, like a person or something to take care of. She was used to just being used for what she was, a slave and a succubus. As scared as she had been about a punishment, she was glad it hadn’t come. 

The succubus easily gave all control over to Brandon, simply shirting when her shirt and bra were removed. It felt different from the other times they’d shared together. That was clear from the fact that her clothes had survived being removed instead of being torn away. She tangled her fingers into his hair, tugging slightly at the feel of his lips on her breasts. 

She moaned around his fingers, making sure to suck them clean. When the position changed and her back hit the chair, she parted her legs wider to show him how wet her panties had gotten just from his teasing. “Yes, they deserve a treat,” Emerson agreed, watching as he moved closer. It felt like a tease and the succubus tried her best to be patient but she still rocked her hips, trying to tempt Brandon in. 

“Would you? Accept any punishment that I deem appropriate, Emerson?” Her fingers trailed along the girl’s neckline. “Even if that meant putting you down in my labyrinth?” The labyrinth was a torture maze down under the foundation of Colombia’s home. It was reserved for the worst of the slaves held within the city – or any traitor that she deemed fit. She would never put Emerson there, however.

There were very few that Colombia de Leon held a soft spot for. Emerson was one of them. It was something about those big blue eyes and forever pouty lips… The mistress sighed and leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. “I was worried about you, Emerson. You could have gotten seriously injured.” The city had been in shambles. “Someone could have taken you from me.”

“Yes,” she answered quickly. “I would know that you think I deserve it and that’s enough for me to know that too.” She had only heard of the labyrinth in passing and she didn’t want to experience it for herself though she would have marched down there herself if Coco said she had to go. Emerson spent her last hundred years being trained to be a perfect pet for someone to enjoy. Sneaking out was the first bad thing she had done in decades. 

She waited for Colombia’s deliberation, knowing a punishment would come and it would be deserved. The press of their heads together made the slave smile. She had been claimed before but never had she been treated so well. “I wouldn’t have let that happen.” Her powers were still reasonably new compared to some demons but she had used them to protect herself before. “And if someone tried, I know you would have found me.” It might have been a silly hope. Colombia was not the kind of woman you crossed, or tried to steal from. 

👶 for a moodboard about my muse’s childhood - Emerson, in her human life, grew up in Paris, France, with her father who owned a popular bakery.

👗 for a moodboard about my muse’s fashion style

“I see…” Of course they did. The less Emerson knew, the better behaved she was. And the more behaved, pretty doll, she was the more they wanted her. “Angry whispers? What could they have been angry about? You didn’t try to escape or anything.” Not like her. Violet turned the glass in her hands before slowly bringing it to her lips. It burned a bit going down her throat. She made a face and cringed. Her throat had been cried raw and was still recovering. But it wasn’t something she was going to let stop her. Violet looked around trying to find something to say, but really just hoping one of the two would show, but also hoping they wouldn’t. “How….. How did you meet them?” 

“I don’t have super hearing as a talent, sorry. It just sounded like angry whispers.” It was true, she had gone exploring but she wasn’t running and she didn’t put up a fight when told to go home. Once their drinks arrived, Emerson nursed hers, swirling it with the straw. She seemed awfully concerned with what the master and mistress thought about her, it was curious because she doubted she felt love for them. “Colombia came to the cells and picked me out,” she explained with a shrug. It felt like the same story with most slaves. “I met Brandon differently, one of the old bartender’s rented me and got bored and left me here so he took me. I had no idea they were together until she claimed me.” It was another thing that Emerson hadn’t known was coming. While she had fun with the beautiful woman, she would have never guessed that she’d claim him. 

Brandon nodded slightly, his eyes never leaving Emerson’s as his lips moved lazily with hers. “We just want to take care of you,” he whispered. His hands brought her legs up as his kissed her deeper, letting her taste take over his mouth. Lifting her from the ground and wrapping her legs around his waist, he made his way to a chair where he sat so she was straddling him. His lips never parted from hers as he moved, but once they reached the chair they traveled downwards to her neck down to the valley of her buxom chest. 

The angel looked up as he brushed yet another strand of hair from the succubus’ face. He gave a low, satisfied hum, before he reached down into her panties and his fingers found her clit, rubbing them slowly. “You’re our good girl, Emerson,” Brandon growled softly. His fingers now delved into her pussy. “You’re Coco’s good girl. You’re my good girl.” He retreated his fingers and presented it to her for her to suck. “Aren’t you Daddy’s good girl?”

The kiss was far gentler than what Emerson was expecting but she didn’t dare refuse it. Being taken care of was far better than a punishment. It did make the succubus feel guilty from leaving at all when they took care of her and let her feed from their energy. She whimpered against his lips, clinging to his shoulders as she was lifted from the ground and moved around. As their position changed, Emerson through her head back, pushing her chest towards his lips, knowing what was coming next. 

She tilted her hips, giving Brandon more room to play with her body. There was no way she would want to refuse him when he made her feel so good. “Yes,” she moaned, knowing she would agree with anything he asked of her now. The succubus wanted to pout when he stopped touching her but she could see the arousal coating his fingers, it was easy for her to pull them close to her lips. “Yes, daddy. I’m your good girl.” Wrapping her lips around the fingers, she moaned, tasting herself and making sure they were all clean for him. 

“Well, I think you see now that curiosity has repercussions,” Brandon said as his calloused hands now went to the blonde’s cheeks, his thumb dancing there as he spoke. “Your mistress can be harsh… rough… the both of us can…” Brandon now held her face in his hands and inched closer to her, “But we also take care of those in our house.” He looked at her gently, almost lovingly, before his lips met hers in a soft kiss. “Come here,” he whispered as he closed the gap once more.

“Yes, it does,” she agreed. Emerson had learned that the hard way. Her curiosity had been more than satisfied before she returned home. The touch was gentle enough for Emerson to lean into him, grateful for it when she was certain he would deliver another punishment for her. “You’re both kind,” she countered. They had been nothing but kind to her and that was why her sneaking out felt like a betrayal in some way. The way he looked at her made her stomach flutter and her eyes closed as they kissed. “You do,” she murmured. There was no hesitance as Emerson kissed him again, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull herself closer.