Golden hour light pours sideways through the wooden walls, painting everything in warm amber. The 85mm lens catches Angel from a three-quarter angle, her fair skin glowing against the white lace. The sheer ruffled top clings to her breasts, the thong disappearing between her cheeks, garter belts framing her thighs above the fishnet stockings. Her halo hovers above her head like a soft ring light. She looks back over her shoulder, one palm flat on the wood paneling, hips tilted just enough to show the curve of her ass.

From the left, the succubus strides in—athletic, red-skinned, black ram horns curling back from her temples. Long curly black hair bounces with each step. Her thick cock juts forward, heavy and swaying, the head already flushed. She holds an iPhone to her ear, mid-conversation, voice carrying a thick New York accent.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m collectin’ tonight. Souls, baby. Prime cut. No, not the usual batch—this one’s got that extra bounce, if you know what I mean.” She laughs, low and throaty, the sound bouncing off the wooden walls.

She stops a few feet from Angel, eyes flicking over the angel’s pose. Without missing a beat she covers the phone with her palm and leans in, voice dropping to a stage whisper.

“Bend over. Panties down. Face on the wall. Spread those cheeks. Ass only, like always. Lucky for you I got places to be.”

Angel pouts, lower lip pushed out, but her hands move. She hooks her thumbs into the thong and peels it down, the lace stretching over her hips before it drops to her ankles. She steps out of one leg, then presses her cheek to the warm wood, reaching back with both hands to spread herself open. The fishnets frame the pale skin, garters taut.

“Does it always gotta be the ass?” she mutters, Norwegian accent softening the edges of the words.

The succubus rolls her eyes, still covering the phone.

“Hold up,” she says into the receiver, then turns back to Angel, matter-of-fact. “Listen, doll. You wanted the ass that launched a thousand hard-ons. That was the deal. I can rip up the contract right now and you can go back to lookin’ like a two-by-four from behind. Your choice.”

Angel stays bent, bare cheeks spread, halo still glowing softly above her head. She glances over her shoulder, defeated.

“…No.”

The succubus smirks, already lifting the phone again.

“Yeah, I’m back. Where were we? Right—soul collection. This one’s gonna be quick and dirty.”