Zarathel drank down the woman's juices as she climaxed. The demon herself was quite happy to take her pleasure from the fact that the woman was being utterly corrupted. This thing that the Nameless one had intended purely for the procreation of the species, she, Zarathel, was warping into something that would cause endless trouble down through the ages. The woman seemed almost exhausted, but Zar was by no means finished.<br/><br/>"This, my dear is something that you must learn to give as well as take... But for now you will take. You may wish to give it to your husband, later".<br/><br/>The demon stood and waved her hands, and vines that were hanging from the nearby trees moved, worming their way in through the grass, gripping the woman's ankles and wrist, knees and elbows, hog-tying her and lifting her off the ground. "This is because you had your climax before I was ready. This is called sexual pain. It is closley linked to sexual pleasure, and you will find you enjoy it!" From somewhere, Even Zar didn't know where, she produced a whip. Not a huge one, only about three feet long, but made of leather - not that leather was invented yet. The demon giggled and clothed herself in the fashion of a dominatrix from the twentieth century. The lash snaked out and bit into Eve's backside, raising a red welt, again it struck, this time across her breasts, touching both nipples. The third stroke landed on her sex.<br/><br/>The succubus continued whipping Eve's erogenous zones, pausing occasionally to lick at the welts, stroke them tenderly with a finger tip, or kiss the woman on her sex, nipples or mouth. "I would have asked you to count, but numbers aren't discovered for a few thousand years yet..." She smirked softly.