<em>"Mmm... Yes... more... please... don't... stop..."<br/><br/>The squirming succubus, her breaths long and shuddering as glistening sweat clings to her flawless body, finally comes down, though it's clear she's enjoying the punishment far, far too much to ever want Atelia to stop, her tireless demonic flesh begging for more as her cheeks turn a bright, delectable cherry red from the steady rain of blows, jiggling temptingly with each smack.<br/><br/>The tail tip, correspondingly, slows its pace, allowing her mistress' admittedly less hardly mortal frame some respite from the pleasure, instead lightly and soothingly caressing the velvet walls of Atelia's cleft before withdrawing enough to lovingly tease the pretty young archivist's clit.<br/><br/>Likewise, the two fiendish lovers across from them seem to have come down off their high, contenting themselves, now that their more immediate needs have been met, to instead explore-- somewhat uncertainly, on the hamatula's part, and somewhat curiously on the succubus'-- each other's bodies. Reaver, who has something now of an unusual glow about her, still shivers a little as she lightly strokes the silky magenta hair of her lover, taloned fingers brushing with extraordinary delicacy over the soft, pliant flesh of the demoness' thighs and stomach. For her part, Maplepink seems to be fascinated by the devil's barbs, running her tongue and lips along the patterns of withdrawn barbs. Both of them pant softly, and occasionally look into each other's eyes, though usually after a long moment, Maplepink looks away, coloring slightly as if embarrassed or ashamed.</em>