Round 152

Abby stood near the door frame, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird. The air in the penthouse was thick with an unspoken tension, a mixture of the building's constant thrumming demand and the raw power radiating from Jeane as she loomed over Silra. Her eyes darted between them, watching their silent exchange, her own body tensing instinctively at every sharp word spoken.

Her gaze swept over the room, taking in the scattered tools and supplies strewn across the floor. It was chaos, a testament to their desperate efforts to keep the building satisfied while also trying to maintain some semblance of control. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, a blush creeping up her neck as she watched Silra work, her fingers deftly manipulating tools and materials. The sight was both arousing and terrifying—arousing because despite the situation, Abby couldn't help but admire Silra's competence and focus, and terrifying because she knew what Jeane wanted to do to that very same competence.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms as she fought the urge to intervene. She knew better than to get between a succubus and its prey, especially one as powerful as Jeane. But she also couldn't stand idly by while Silra was threatened. The building's demands were escalating, growing more insistent with each passing moment. Abby could feel it too, the insidious pull of lust and desire creeping into her mind, making it harder to think clearly. She needed to find a hiding place, somewhere safe where she wouldn't be... used like the others.