bad-and-drawn-that-way

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

Drops this and runs with a tentative promise of a part two

Sweet Little Obsession [NSFW Vox x Reader] - Part 1

Read on Ao3

You were going to kill Alastor.

“A simple errand, just a little favor,” he had said. Yeah right. Turns out a simple little favor was getting thrust face-first into yet another trap Alastor’s nemesis had planted in an attempt to kidnap and do lord knows what to the annoying deer that used you.

Now here you were, trapped in a room without any idea of where you had been teleported to and tied head to toe in thick cables that tightened around you like a modern mummy every time you struggled.

“Ahahaha, get absolutely fucked, Alastor!” Vox boasts as he steps into the room with bravado up the ass. “I can’t believe it took you this long to-”

He stopped in his tracks at the sight of you. You give a stiff wave with your hand sticking out of the wires and a deadpan smirk. 

“Who the fuck are you?” He asks flatly, not moving an inch.

You wince, blurting out your name before you can stop yourself.

“Right, right,” he nods as he mimics pinching where his brow would be. A habit in his past life, perhaps. “And where is Alastor?”

“Probably back at the hotel laughing his ass off at both of our expense,” you grumble.

“Mhmm, of course,” Vox nods again, closing his eyes. “Excuse me just a moment,” he says, shooting you the prize-winning grin you saw plastered across the better half of hell. 

You watch as he promptly spins on his heel, marches out of the room, and lets the door slide shut behind him. You wince as you hear a series of loud crashing sounds and angry screaming coming from an incredibly obvious source.

The door slides open, and he waltzes right back in, dusting off his suit and giving it a tug for good measure. “Right then, so you’ve given me your name. I’m assuming you’re associated with that hotel. Mind telling me how?”

You sweat internally as he asks the question. You had hoped he’d lose interest in you, maybe rough you up a bit at worst and send you on your way. Questions were dangerous. They’d been dangerous ever since you got cursed with the inability to lie.

“Actually, I mind a lot,” you huff. At least you didn’t mind being truthful for that one. You didn’t need an overlord poking around your head. It was bad enough when Alastor had discovered your unfortunate quirk. Charlie had to intervene to keep him from abusing the power trip, finding your forced honesty incredibly hilarious. 

Vox rolls his eyes. “You know, I’m not sure why I asked like that!” He grins before waving his hand to the side. “Considering, I d̷o̴n̵'̷t̷ ̵c̶a̵r̵e̷ what you want.” 

As his smile drops, so do you. The cocoon of cables around your body suddenly loosens. A few cables barely catch you before your face smacks against the ground. You yelp as the wires tighten around your limbs and yank you back into the air, leaving you face-to-face with an angry Vox. 

“Now then, let’s try this again,” he says with a tense yet chipper tone. “What do you know about Alastor?”

You struggle against your bindings with a grunt, spilling the information you know with far less resistance than you liked. “He’s the hotel manager. He wants to use Charlie for something. It’s obvious to everyone but her. I don’t know what.”

Vox scoffs, “Oh, come on. Why don’t you tell me something I don’t know?”

“Vaggie confided in me that he made a deal with Charlie.”

Shit.

You and Vox stare at each other, both shocked that such crucial information just slipped from your lips so easily. He was expecting to have to torture and interrogate you for hours before sending your mangled pieces back to the hotel as a gift. Alastor was elusive and discreet. But you had just gone and given away confidential information like an unwrapped gift with the tag still on it.

“No… fucking way,” he breathes as his face breaks out into a huge, awestruck grin.

You blanch as he puts a hand to his head and starts laughing uncontrollably. “Y-You did not just fucking tell me that! Seriously? Are you for real?”

Your face heats with a mix of shame for betraying Vaggie’s trust like that and embarrassment at his amusement. “S-Shut the fuck up! I didn’t…”

Vox snorted as he calmed down. “Didn’t what? Mean to cave within five seconds of being in front of an overlord? I thought all you idiots at the hotel were stupidly brave. Guess the princess’s shiny ideals finally started bringing in the cowardly types.”

“I’m not a fucking coward,” you snarl as you try to grab him. Your bindings only yank back, restraining you further. A snap is your only warning before the cables burst to life with electricity. You barely process your own scream, too lost in the blaring pain searing through your body.

You gasp as he snaps again, holding his poised fingers before you to prove a point. The shocks wracking your body cease and the message is clear.

”You know… you’re quite feisty,” he hums. “Most people would beg for mercy or grovel at my feet, saying that they’ll do anything for me to let them go.”

He stepped closer again as his eyes kept their gaze on you.

”You could stand to learn a thing or two from them.”

You smirk with false bravado, free to speak your mind without him prompting you like before. “I've lived with an egocentric prick like you for months now," you say, spitting at his cheek defiantly. "I know begging wouldn't change a thing.’

“Ohoho, not so cowardly after all,” Vox grins sharply with a twitching eye as he wipes his face. He snaps, and sure enough, your screams fill the room once more. He lets it go on for longer this time before giving you relief with another snap.

“Now then,” Vox begins, holding up his fingers again. “What deal did Charlie make with Alastor?”

Your eyes widen, and you clamp your mouth shut this time. With enough warning, you could at least try to resist the urge. However, it didn’t take long for the strain of resisting the magic to take its toll.

Vox watched curiously, quirking a brow as you seemed to struggle, almost like you were holding your breath. He’s just about to snap his fingers when you suddenly gasp and blurt out, “She owes him a favor.”

For a moment, he just stares at you. Your head is dropped, your face burning with frustration and shame. You hated this. This stupid curse had always been a pain, but now it was actively hurting and endangering the people you cared about. All because Alastor couldn’t be damned to clean up his own messes.

Vox’s brows furrow as he examines you. You didn’t look afraid, not like you were trying to give the information in exchange for avoiding pain. The timing was off, and the panic in your expression wasn’t quite right.

He looked at you like he was trying to unravel a tangled necklace. He didn’t need to solve a whole puzzle; he just needed to find the right loop and it would all unravel for him easily. 

“Why did you answer my question just now?” He asks.

Your eyes widen as fear courses through your veins. “Nononono,”  you thought to yourself as you struggle to keep your mouth shut. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, willing yourself not to speak.

This time, Vox makes no threats. He simply watches as it gets harder for you to breathe. He watches as your face flushes and sweat beads above your brow. You pant heavily as your head begins to pound. A tickle in your throat grows into a clawing pain until it feels like you need to cough, gasp, and scream all at once. 

You whine, trembling under the strain until finally, you gasp, “I’m afflicted with a curse that forces me to speak the truth.”

Vox’s eyes widen as you look down at the floor in a dazed shock, catching your breath. He processes the information as a small grin spreads on his lips. “Interesting,” he hums.

He suddenly unbuttons his jacket and grabs a chair, pulling it up before you. He drapes his coat over the chair, thinking to himself as he sits in front of you.

He rests his chin on his hands, elbows on his thighs as he makes you wait in tense silence. No one had ever reacted like this before and the quiet unnerved you.

“Do you have any other information about Alastor that would prove useful to me?” Vox asks with an unreadable tone.

“No,” you say quietly, knowing it was pointless to resist now that he knew. You dangled from the cables that suspended you like a broken doll. Tears fell from your eyes, dirtying the ground with your guilt. You’d completely betrayed the hotel. The friends that you considered family, the ones who took you in. You failed them.

Vox hums, catching one of the tears as it falls, observing it as the light glistens through the drop reflecting on his metallic claw.

“Are you afraid of Alastor?” He asks, catching you off-guard. 

“Of course I am,” you answer bluntly. 

“Mm,” Vox nods noncommittally. “Good.” 

The cables shift slowly, lowering you to your knees. It’s surprisingly gentle, unlike before. A cable wraps around your neck as your wrists are shifted to cross behind your back.

Vox lowers a hand, looking down at you as he lifts your chin. The cable around your neck gradually tightens, making it uncomfortable but not impossible to breathe. At least not yet.

“Another question for you,” he smirks as the tip of his clawed finger drags under your chin, forcing you to lock eyes with him. “A̴r̵e̶ ̶y̶o̸u̸ ̴a̸f̸r̷a̸i̶d̸ ̷o̷f̷ ̵m̴e̸?̶”

Your breaths are coming in quicker now. There's not enough air. You're on the verge of hyperventilation as the cable constricts around your neck like a snake.

“Y-Yes,” you gasp as you strain against your binds. You could only imagine the bruises blooming around your limbs and how a matching necklace of blue and purple was about to follow suit. 

Vox’s eyes flashed as he grinned, dead pixels spilling from his lips as he eyed you like a shark drawn to blood in the water. 

“Oh, good girl,” he teases as he flicks your chin. The cable around your neck loosens enough to catch your breath, and you gasp. Your head drops, only for it to snap back up as you look at him in shock. Did he just?!

“I’ve decided,” he smirks as he pulls up an electric blue hologram and commands the cables around your dominant arm to loosen until you can pull it free. “You’re going to make a deal with me.”

You scoff, “Like hell, I w- mmph!”

You’re suddenly cut off as Vox’s hand shoots out and grabs you by the face. His palm covers your mouth as his claws dig into the sides of your face, just below your temples. You can feel blood trickle down your jawline as he tilts his head and smiles pleasantly.

“Careful dollface,” he smiles with sharp eyes. “You wouldn’t want to upset me. Not when I’m about to change the fate of your wasted potential.”

You whimper as tears spring to the corners of your eyes. More dead pixels spill from his lips as his grin grows hungrier at the sight.

“You’re going to work for me as one of my… assistants. You’ve shot your friends in the back, and we both know they have no reason to take you back after this. Let’s face it: if they actually cared about you, you wouldn’t even be here right now!”

He lifts you with ease single-handedly off of the ground. “I'll handle your basic needs and you'll tend to mine… A fair trade, don't you think?”

Your eyes widen as you start to struggle. An overlord's needs were a dangerous thing. Sketchy deals, brazen violence, pure debauchery. Nothing good.  You smack at him with your free hand, yelling muffled profanities at him for even implying you’d agree.

He expected this but sighed with a roll of his eyes. “I’d say you’re making me do things the hard way,” he says like it’s a big chore before his eye suddenly flashes with a spiral. “But this is honestly quite easy,” he grins.

Your arm drops as your body goes lax underneath his control. A pleasant hum fills your ears, your eyes drooping as you relax unwillingly with a soft sigh. He smirks, gladly soaking up the power trip of controlling you so easily. “Now then, let’s try that again, shall we?”

He summons a pen and puts it in your hand, lifting your arm to sign the contract. “Sign here and here,” he says in a chipper voice as if you were just some customer getting a warranty instead of a prisoner signing away your soul. 

The second the contract flashes under the deal’s completion, he drops the hypnotic spell over you. You sob as you're dropped to the ground. You’re too wrapped up in losing your freedom to care as the cable from before resecuring your arm behind your back again.

“See, that wasn't so bad,” Vox smugly taunts you as he waves the contract away.

You grit your teeth, torn between wanting to cry and wanting to kill the man before you. “Don’t patronize me…”

Vox smirked as he saw the look in your eyes, knowing he was starting to piss you off. Good. That’s not a fire he sees in someone’s eye often anymore. Everyone is either below him and scared or just another annoying overlord. This was different, and he loved every second of it. He walked closer, standing right before you as he spoke condescendingly.

"Aww, what's the matter, dollface? Don't like being on your knees for me?" He taunts.

You growl, lunging forward and straining against your binds, “I said don’t patronize me!”

Slap!

You blink, completely dazed as you feel the hot sting of the strike on the side of your face. 

Vox frowns at you as he sits up and shakes his hand out. “If I were you, I wouldn't try that again,” he warns.

He knew you would eventually. And he couldn't wait to punish you when the time came.

“Go to Hell,” you growl as you tug against your bindings.

“Suit yourself,” he sighs as he snaps his fingers. You barely have a chance to realize he's only doing that to train you to expect pain as a large cable snakes up out of nowhere and wraps around your neck.

You make the horrible mistake of crying out when the cable squeezes your throat, giving him the exact opening he wanted. Your cries turn into garbled, muffled noises as the rounded end of the cable shoves itself into your mouth, stretching your jaw open impossibly wide.

Vox leans back in his chair with a smirk, watching you as the cable starts to thrust back and forth in a lazy, precise rhythm. The cable pushed just far enough down your throat to make you gag a little each time. 

Drool quickly began to run down your chin as you choked and cried around the fat cable that fucked your throat just a little deeper every time you started to get used to the excruciating pressure. Your eyes roll back as your vision begins to blur. Little black dots dance before your eyes as the foreign sounds of your own garbled moans fill your ears. 

“Hm,” Vox tuts as he looks you over. “Now, that won't do. You’re almost perfect, but…”

Vox waves a hand, and the wires binding you slither across your body and under your clothes. You panic and start to twist and squirm as the cables wrap around your clothes and pull on them until they're yanked off of you with a terrible rip.

Your muffled scream only makes Vox laugh cruelly as your throat bulges against the thick cable around your throat. Just as you feel like you're going to break, the cable finally slithers out of your mouth. You gasp loudly, sucking in air so quickly that you choke on it and descend into a coughing fit.

“That's much better,” Vox smirks as drool pools on top of your exposed tits, dripping down onto your stomach. 

“Now tell me,” he grins as he presses his sleek dress shoe against your crotch. “Do you want to hurt me?” 

You don't expect him to ask that. “Yes,” you gasp between scratchy breaths. 

He grins wider, pressing down on your clit with the tip of his shoe. You jolt with a moan as he rubs against your clit with purpose.

“So fucking easy,” he chuckles. “So defiant, yet completely helpless and so honest. Tell me, brat. Do you want me to do more?”

Your face burned with shame. Your eyes burned with rage. Your throat was sore and abused, your limbs ached, and you had every reason to hate him.

Even so… “Yes,” you admit begrudgingly, adding another sin to weigh upon your back.

“Good girl,” Vox praised as he started to undo his belt buckle. A small wire crept up as he lifted his shoe, zapping your clit. You cry out and jolt, making him groan at the sight of your body.

“Mm, fuck,” he moans as he pulls himself out of his boxers and strokes himself a few times. “Gonna have to thank Alastor for the present. You have no idea what I've got in mind for you, doll. Just wait until I show you to Val.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach at the mention of Valentino. You'd heard the rumors and knew how dangerous the overlord was. His many reputations proceeded him… All of them did. Including the one that made your core heat at the very thought.

Vox noticed the shift in your body and chuckled darkly. He sits up and cups your face as he pulls your face close to his.

“Oh? Did that turn you on, dollface?”

You whimper, squeezing your thighs together as your mind gets cloudier with shameful desire building in your gut. Another zap to your puffy clit made you cry out and whine pathetically.

“O-Okay, fine! Yes, it did! Happy now?” You confess as your face burns.

“Oh, darling,” he purrs as he leans forward, catches your lower lip between his dangerously sharp teeth and tugs. You mewl at the blissfully sharp pain as he releases your lip and smirks. “You have no idea.”

With that, he crashes his lips against yours, hungrily swiping his tongue across your lips, demanding entry. Your entire body comes alive with electricity as you melt underneath the force of his ministrations.

He reaches up and grabs your chest with both hands, kneading tender flesh with dangerous claws. You arch into his touch, trembling from the sharp pricks that make you twitch and whimper as his plasma tongue pushes into your mouth.

He groans, bucking his twitching cock uselessly again the air. “God, you're so fucking hot,” he murmurs against your lips as he pulls back from the kiss.

“Who do you belong to?” He asks roughly against your ear. 

“I belong to you, Vox,” you whimper with tears in your eyes.

“Ohh, fuck that's it, baby,” he groans, licking the trail of tears off your cheek as he jerks himself off. “Say it again. Who owns you, doll?”

“You own me, Vox,” you sob as your head drops.

Vox clicks his tongue and pulls back to loosely grab your face, looking at you with a small frown.

“Call me Sir.”

You moan, shuddering from the command. The entire evening had tilted you off your axis. Up was down and vice versa. You couldn't help but get swept away by the fearful pleasure building in you from the whirlwind of events.

You'd blame it on the stress. The fear. The shock of signing your soul away. That's what made you give in. That's why your body was so desperate for a release. That's why you said, “Yes… Sir.”

Something hot flashed across Vox's eyes as you obeyed him shyly like you were dipping your toes in the water and admitting to yourself that you wanted this. And dear Satan, if he hadn't wanted to teach you to fulfill your potential before, he sure as Hell did now.

“Do you want to serve me?”

No!

“Yes…”

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

No! Not like this! Please! 

“Y-Yes, I do,” you whimper as your body burns with shame. This was ticking so many boxes for you, but it was still mortifying to say how much you craved something like this for a very long time.

“Tell me what you want,” Vox orders directly. “What do you want, Doll?”

You sob as the last of your willpower escapes you. “I w-want you to… To use me,” you whimper.

That was exactly what he wanted to hear.

Vox stood, pumping himself again as he manifested a plasma chain connected to a collar around your neck. He pulled on the chain, making you stumble forward on your knees, your face smacking into his pelvis right next to his throbbing cock.

Your eyes go wide and you feel yourself salivate as you look at it. Vox's eye flashes with a hypnotic spiral in his excitement.

“Suck. Now.”

You were far enough gone that you didn't even need to be hypnotized to obey, already completely enthralled by the sleek cock before you. He was long and thick. Not as girthy as the cable from earlier, but big enough that you'd feel him down your throat for sure. The underside of his length had six glowing cyan ridges, three on each side, and the tip of him was cyan, leaking with clear precum that made you drool.

You lean back, your hands still bound behind your back as you open your mouth and carefully take the head of his cock between your lips. You moan as you swirl your tongue around the tip of him, licking up the salty precum and pressing your tongue against the small slit of his cockhead for more.

Vox groaned lowly as he tangled his claws in your hair. You happily moaned in turn as he shallowly thrust into your mouth, encouraging you to open up and take more of him. You flatten your tongue underneath his length, sucking dutifully as you look up at him with your freshly teary eyes.

Vox throws his head back and moans. “Mm, fuck dollface, you look so good crying on Daddy’s cock like that. Hope you like being on your knees because I've got a spot under my desk and a chain with your name on it.”

Vox's grip suddenly tightens on your head, making your eyes widen as he starts thrusting fast and hard down into your mouth like a fleshlight. You choke and garble on his cock, tears flowing down your face as your eyes roll back in your head.

Vox groans, panting and growling as he loses himself in the pleasure before ripping you off of him, forcing you to look up as you gasp for air.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you? Be a good girl and tell me,” he commands.

You pant heavily, feeling like a complete and utter mess with drool and tears soaking your face, shame and desire soaking your cunt. 

“Y-Yes, Sir,” you gasp, face burning hot with shame. “I'd like that very much.”

“Good little cocksleeve,” he cooes sweely in stark contrast to the way he tightens his grasp on your head and starts facefucking you again. Your garbled moans and cries were music to his ears as he used your wet, sloppy, smartass mouth to please himself. 

“Ohh fuck, you're going to be such a good little stress relief toy when Val's too busy playing with Angel Dust. He gets his toy; it's time I have my own,” he monologues between grunts as he pounds your throat like a pussy.

“Delivered to me right from Alastor himself,” he cackles, twisting the tale to fuel his own fantasies. That one earns him a particularly pleased moan as he starts to thrust into your mouth sloppier. 

Your eyes widen when you realize he's close. You start to desperately thrash against your bindings as you choke on his cock. It only backfires and makes dead pixels spill from his lip as he bucks into you, his balls slapping your chin as he grinds into your face.

“Oh f-fuck,” he groans as he grabs your head and curls in, fucking you deeper and harder, making stars dance across your vision. “You're mine now, you hear me? All fucking m̷i̶n̴e̵!”

You let out a garbled scream as he cums hard down your throat. Your lungs burn as hot ropes of electrifying cum spurt past your lips and down your throat. You choke and sputter as he twitches and moans, grinding his hips against your face like you're a toy and he's in heat. 

“That's it, darling. Take every last drop. Fucking take it.”

Once his cock stops twitching, he pulls out, giving you a much-needed chance to breathe again. He smirks as you cough and hack. The cables around your body loosen and slither away, letting your arms finally drop to your thighs as you catch your breath.

“Tell me, Doll. Did you like that?”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cuss him out and damn him for playing with your head. But you also wanted more.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper, completely humiliated by the truth.

He salivates. Dead pixels betray his excitement from the conflict between your mind, heart, and body. It was sweet torture that fueled his ego in ways that already had his dick getting hard again.

“Be a good girl and tell me…” he hums as he drags his claws through your hair as he pets your head condescendingly. “What do you want?”

You wanted to kill him.

“I w-want you to fuck me,” you sob, trembling with shame as your body's desire spoke for you and took away your bite.

“Good girl,” he cooes with a smug grin that only grows wider when you glare up at him. “ So honest for me… Now tell me where,” he commands as he squeezes your cheek and gives a little teasing shake. “Come on, use your words. We both know you have it in you.”

You growl, smacking his hand away. You try to bite down your words, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“Oh, playing this game again, are we?” He grins as he sits down again and watches you struggle. “By all means, go ahead, dollface. I do love to watch you suffer.”

Your fury keeps you grounded as the pressure looms over you. Your fingers claw against the cool, smooth floor as you pant heavily under the growing pain in your head. But it's inevitable. You can't hold out.

“I want you to fuck me,” you gasp through pained tears. “Please…”

Vox's dick twitches hard at the extra little word. “Oh, please, she says,” he grins. “I didn't order you to do that. Look at you, naturally falling into the role you were meant to play.”

Vox stands, looming over you with a predatory aura, like he was about to go in for the kill. 

“Let's make sure you really learn your place.”

You moan as he flips you around roughly. He moves you so you're on your hands and knees again, only to grab a fistful of your hair and yank your head back. 

“We'll have to see if you're as good at taking orders during work as you are when you're desperate for my cock,” Vox chuckles.

Before you can argue or have the chance to regard the audacity of his treatment, he pulls you back and presses his cock into you slowly. You both groan as he takes his time thrusting shallowly into you, pushing a little further in each time.

“B-Bastard,” you gasp despite the way your body rocks back against his. “I'll fucking kill you for this…”

“Oho, by all means, I'd love to see you try,” he chuckles darkly. He lets go of your hair to grab your hips, giving your ass a firm smack that makes you yelp before he digs his claws into your flesh. You cry out as he suddenly fucks the rest of his cock into you with three sharp thrusts accompanied by low growls that make your core clench.

“You know I'm curious,” he hums nonchalantly, like he wasn't knocking the wind out of you with every brutal snap of his hips. “I wonder how you do with multiple questions…”

He stills for a moment, dragging a single claw lazily down your sweat-sheened back as he asks in rapid succession.

"Do you really not want more, dollface? Or do you want me to push you even further? Do more... humiliating... embarrassing things instead? You are completely helpless, aren't you?”

"No," you whimper the first answer as hot shame flooded your system.

"Yes," you gasp the second answer as he slowly trails around your hip, tantalizingly heading straight for your clit.

"Yes," you whimper again as he presses down the tip of his finger against your lower stomach, just above where you were aching.

"Y-Yes," you admit finally with a mix of fear, guilt, and arousal. 

He smirked at your answers, enjoying how you first denied him... and how he managed to break you and make you admit it completely. He loved that shame. He loved the humiliation. He loved the fear you were feeling. Oh, you were just so... perfect like this.

"Aww, good girl... that wasn't so hard now, was it?” He cooes as his finger starts to rub little circles around your puffy clit. “Say it again, dollface. What do you want?”

"It was incredibly hard," you complain with a long whine as your hips buck against his finger and back onto his cock. He didn't even have to move with how your body jolted from the focused stimulation. You were sloppily fucking yourself on his cock all on your own.

Your face was burning at this point. You look away shamefully as you mutter the answer as quietly as possible. "I want more," you sob.

He smirks, tilting your head to look at him, not letting you look away.

"Look at me when you answer. Don't you dare say it too quietly. I want to hear that shame, dollface. Tell me, what do you want so badly? Where do you want me to touch you?" he asks as he puts more pressure on your clit and stops rubbing.

You whimper, curling in on yourself as much as you're able. "I w-want you to touch... my chest... between my legs... everywhere... please," you gasp as the tears finally roll down your face.

"Good girl,” cooes with genuine praise this time. “That's what I wanted to hear. Very good girl..."

He pats your clit as if to say he'd be right back. You jolt as he drags a claw up your stomach, only to suddenly grab one of your breasts tightly. You yelp as he pinches your sensitive flesh and tugs on your hardening nipple. 

"Do you want me to touch you here, dollface?" He asks softly as he reaches around with his other hand, hovering over your heart for a moment before grabbing your other tit.

"Y-Yes," you gasp, whimpering as his thumb rolls your poor nipple cruelly.

He loved watching you jolt. He loved how vulnerable you looked in his hands. And he especially loved the way you answered. And that answer?

"Good girl, oh, I like you like this,” he teases. “Such an adorable little thing in my control. How does it feel, dollface? Do you like it?”

You gasp, your eyes rolling back as he takes both your breasts and lights his claws with electricity. Your back arches, and you scream as he sends wave after wave of voltage straight to your chest.

"Y-Yes!" You sob through your forced shame. “I fucking love it!” You hated this. Hated how humiliating it was. Being forced to admit your body's desires despite never wanting to be in this position in the first place.

"Fffffuck, Vox!" You moan before shooting him a heated glare. "I'll k-kill you! I'll- AAH!" you cry out as he zaps your chest again.

"You'll kill me? You're still saying that, darling?” He chuckled as he zapped you again. 

“I must admit, I’m hurt,” he sighs dramatically over your cries. “I gave you what you wanted, and this is the thanks I get?”

You choke on a moan as he starts thrusting into you again steadily. He gives your tits a good smack before he reaches and squeezes your ass with both hands.

“Apologize, or the next thing I electrocute you with is my dick,” he orders with a savage grin.

Your eyes widen as you shake your head and try to crawl away. His claws dig into your ass, a silent warning that makes you whimper as you stop in place and accept your fate.

“I-I'm sorry,” you sob begrudgingly.

Vox smirks with a pleased hum. "That wasn't so hard, now was it, dollface? Look on the bright side. Good girls get what they want,” he laughs breathily as he fucks you like a bitch in heat.

Your limbs threaten to buckle underneath you as you moan from the sheer pleasure of it all, collapsing against the cool tiles beneath you.

“What do good girls say?” He asks as he slaps your ass hard.

“Fuck!” you cry out from the pain, sobbing as he smacks your ass again.

“Mm, wrong answer. Try again,” he chastises you casually as he strikes you again and again.

“T-Thank you, sir!” You cry out as tears roll down your ruined face. “T-thank you! Thank you! Fuck! Thank you!”

“Thaaaat's it,” he growls as he fucks into you faster. “Fucking Satan, a brat who can't lie? Happy fucking holidays to me,” he laughs cruelly as he moves over you, pulling your hips up so he can plow you properly.

You can't respond, too lost in the pleasure as his cock rams into you over and over. All you can do is babble and moan as your body eagerly sucks him in. Your spirit was defiant, your heart was terrified, but your pussy was thriving as he reshaped it to the will of his relentless cock.

“I hope you're ready for your new life,” he grins as he feels you both approaching the pinnacle that would forever redefine your life's purpose. “Because after this, you're not going anywhere.”

Your eyes roll back, hot tears streaming down your face as you let out a long, guttural moan. His words are the final point that tips the scale in your body's favor, making you cum hard as your mind leaks away through your spasming cunt.

Vox growls, shouting as he slams his hips into yours again and again. Ropes of white hot cum are fucked into you as he pushes himself through the orgasm. He wanted you to remember this night for a long, long time.

You whimper as he finally collapses against you, shoving his cock snugly against your womb.

He lazily pets your hair as you cry quietly, shushing you and kissing your tear-stained cheek.

“Don't worry darling,” he cooes. “You're going to love it here.”

You cry harder as your old life fades from view. You cry because as your body twitches with the aftershocks of his use, you know that he's right. Pride be damned, honor be damned. 

You were going to love your new life.

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

[NSFW MDNI 🔞]

Just thinkin' about:

Giving Vox head and him talking absolutely filthy to you. His hand heavy in your hair as he thrust in and out of your mouth as he pleases.

"Such a good fucking s-slut...just made to take cock..!" He grits out, throwing his head back at the warmth of your mouth around him. "Oh, fuuuuuck! Love this mouth...just like that baby..."

He'd make you think he was so fully in control, that is until Valentino accidentally walks in looking for him. He takes one look at you on the floor and a mischievous grin breaks across his face.

"Voxxy~! If I had known you were up to no good I would have come to visit sooner~"

You look up to see the blush across Vox's screen light up at Valentino's presence. When his hand loosens on you, you freeze unsure how to proceed.

Valentino comes up to you both and grabs you by the hair, making Vox lift his hands up in surprise, the shock written all over his face. You let out an open mouthed groan as you're tugged closer to Vox's cock.

"Mm, my turn~" the voice purrs from above you. Valentino practically uses you as a fleshlight to get Vox off at the pace he chooses, and Vox arches into the touch and takes it. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, enjoying the weight of him in your mouth, only for them to open and find them two making out above you. The hand on your head slows you down, making you drag your lips along Vox's length.

"F-fuck Val, c-can’t...needa cum..!" Vox whines against Valentino's lips as his hips jump out of time with your movements along his cock. Valentino looks down at you and grins at your own hand frantically moving between your legs.

"Oh I think you can..."

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

Part two is still on the way! But have a little excerpt from a fallen angel piece I'm working on too!

--

Alastor's smirk widens, seeing the obvious irritation on Vox's face.

"I wonder... What is it that makes you so protective of this angel?" he muses, his tone almost conversational. "Is it the pity? The innocence? Or perhaps the pretty face?"

Vox's jaw clenches. "It's none of your damn business," he snaps, his tone venomous.

Alastor chuckles, unbothered. "Oh, don't get so defensive," he rolls his eyes. "And don't lie. You've craved my attention. I'm just surprised, is all. You're not usually the protective type."

Vox's lips twist into a scowl. Alastor is right, he knows it. But he'll be damned if he's going to let the other Overlord taunt him.

"It's different this time," he mutters, turning his gaze back to your unconscious body. You looked so peaceful that for a moment, he could pretend you were only sleeping. If only you weren't so still.

Alastor hums in mild interest, leaning over the bed to get a closer view of you. "Is it now?" he muses coyly. He scoffs at the sickening sweetness to it all before he drags a claw down your cheek, then flicks his hand away, nicking your jawline.

"Or is it because this one actually said yes?" He grins, hitting the worst nerve of them all.

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

HAZELLLL OH BOY DO I HAVE A GOOD IDEAAAA

OKOK so what if doe! Reader is with vox and readers in heat right right????

But vox can't help reader break it (he's been trying for hours)

So he has to call alastor to help you since he's the only deer vox knows of

Oh my goddd

Hohoho good night awquar 💖

Cucking Vox

「warnings/promises: Vox x Female doe reader, Alastor x female doe reader, smut, Cucking the TV man, knotting, heat, pussy flooded, Alastor says “good girl”, hell is heaven now, you’re engaged but meh, drones were not made for this, Breeding???, humilation of the flat headed prince, Vox loves you, but your pussy love Alastor」

Minors I stg! DNI!

It had been all morning. He didn’t mind the stamina required, but his love was still suffering. Nothing was satiating your needs, even when he went out of his way to transform his typically human male prick into something more akin to the wider based cock you needed …. It was still not enough.

As you laid supine and open, the artificial knot full and stuck in you, the whines didn’t stop. It didn’t have the heat your cunt knew a proper mate would have. His load was too small, your womb quivering in need with every pathetic release he buried in you. A real knot would pulse with the heart rate of the buck claiming you. 

“Nothing?” Vox’s voice was high and worried. 

“I mean… it’s something.” Grumbled into a pillow. You ground against him but it was useless to calm your burning walls. Ever hour that passed without being properly fucked became torturous. 

“What does it feel like? Not getting, ya know,” suddenly he felt shy, voicing the thing he was lacking, “knotted.”

You considered sparing him the truth but your animal brain said it before your human one could stop it, “It hurts. It feels like my pussy is on fire. Do you know how sometimes the roof of your mouth itches and you can’t scratch it? That. For fucking hours.”

Seeing you in pain hurt him, deeper than he could handle. How could he have so much money and power and feel so worthless for you now?

Did he truly have no resources? No recourse? No remedy? 

As he watched your large doe ears press back into your skull, the solution came to him.

“One minute babe, you just…” Vox halted as you rolled on your side, fingers coming to your center to have some friction, “Keep doing that…”

· · ─────── ·📺📻· ─────── · ·

When the drone approached his patio table,  he didn’t look up. 

When Vox’s voice crackled through the small speaker, he didn’t look up.

When the question, “How much for you to fuck my fiancée?” was shouted at him, he admittedly choked a little on his coffee and finally acknowledged the device.

“Why on earth would I do that?” Alastor set the mug down to keep from breaking it in his hand.

“To humiliate me.”

A beat.

A hum.

A twirl of his staff.

“Well in that case, for free!”

Vox blinked twice as he stared at the monitor, “Wait, really?”

Alastor mulled it over seriously now. Did he want to have sex right now? No, not really. Did the idea of making Vox’s future wife scream his name sound hilarious? Yes absolutely. 

He shrugged, getting up from his chair as the drone spun around him, “Shit, I didn’t expect you to agree.”

“So you don’t want me to bed your gal?” Alastor smiled, “Then I’m definitely in.”

Vox chewed on a claw, “Fuck! Fine just get down here. And I don’t owe you any favors for this, so don’t even fucking ask.”

“Oh Vox, favors? You’re hardly the one I’d go to when in need. You’re not even the first Vee I’d approach! Ha!”

Before he could crash the drone directly into that smug face, he heard your whimpers from the bedroom down the hall and paused. 

“Just”, Vox cradled his screen in his hands, “hurry up.”

It became immediately clear why his former partner had called him of all people when Alastor exited the elevator into Vox’s personal floor.

The living quarters were swimming in the heady scent of arousal. Specifically, a doe. 

Alastor rolled his eyes, of course Vox found one of the few other deer demons in the pride ring to marry.

“Ooh, you are in a pickle, huh?” He leaned against the door frame, taking in the sight of the overlord rubbing your back as you groaned. His eyes fell immediately to the downturned tail above your bare cheeks. “Poor thing.” He cooed.

You couldn’t find the will to turn your head to look. A growled, “Voxy?”

“He’s here to help, babe.” His hands sped up their massaging swirls.

“Who, exactly?”

“Alastor! The radio demon. A plea-,” He began but couldn’t finish. 

Vox laughed nervously, “He’s a deer demon! Like you!” 

“You grabbed a random deer demon off the street to-,”

“No! Not at all! Though, admittedly, the only other deer demon I know.” As you made a noise of disapproval, he added, “He’s an overlord! An old pal, even.”

You heard the strange man guffaw. Finally, you rolled over to lay eyes on the supposed cavalry your beau had summoned.

Oh. 

“Hmm.” Something in you unspoken yet still demanding made you roll into your back and drop your knees open. 

He hadn’t anticipated a fellow deer in heat. Vox had offered him more than just fucking his girl, it turned out. Alastor had come mostly expecting to laugh in Vox’s face as a second best humiliation and head to cannibal town, but seeing how Vox was so desperately in love, well, how could he say no? What more delicious of a meal could exist than splitting open Vox’s ego while splitting open his doe with the same effort.

Still on the bed, Vox felt the air shift as he stood between Alastor and you. 

“Well, I uh, guess I’ll leave you two to it.” His screen flashed a pink haze of embarrassment.

“Oh? Abandoning her already?” With a snap and a flourish of his fingers, a plush reading chair materialized on the opposite side of the bed. “Take a seat, old chum.”

“You can’t be serious.” 

Alastor loosened his bowtie, “You’d really leave your vulnerable and needy betrothed all alone with a man? Tsk tsk.”

Vox laughed, “You’re not a man.”

“Ooh, correct.” Alastor reached the bed, undoing his belt, “I’m a buck, right little one?” When his hand reached out and slid down your calf you trembled. Even his skin on yours felt different than Vox’s. “Now take a seat.”

His flat face turned to you, who could only nod as a long claw dragged down your shin.

Vox settled into his chair and crossed his arms. He wanted to say something snotty about how he would make more money on his cell during the little romp than Alastor could dream of, but the sound of Alastor’s zipper made his throat close.

“I’ll need a little assistance to catch up to you, sweetheart. Mind lending me a hand?” Alastor rested his knees on either side of your thighs,  body hovering over you as he knelt.

You briefly considered arguing, but as his other hand pulled his still soft cock from his pants and the scent of him hit your heightened senses, you found your body sitting up. Your hand went into his as he placed it around himself. His fist around yours as he showed you how to stroke him.

“Is that really necessary?” Vox’s voice seemed to glitch.

“Of course! I’m only capable of knotting when in rut. And a rut can only be triggered by a doe in heat. I’ll need her touch and scent to … get the show started, so to speak.” Alastor’s hand left yours, index finger coming to lift your chin. The first eye contact of the evening, funnily enough coming after skin met skin. 

Deep red eyes shone down on you behind a widening smile, “Good girl. I’ll take care of you.”

“You’re obnoxious.” You slurred, a second wave of his uniquely virile musk rolling off his heated crotch. “Good girl? You just met me you….Old timey…”, the lights in your brain shut off, “fuck. Fuck.” Your mind was a blank piece of paper, the word ‘breed’ scrawled haphazardly as your hand felt the weight of his erection. 

Vox had never seen you make that face, nor your eyes lose focus and dilate quite like that either. He couldn’t help but glance at the thick appendage in your fist.

A look shot to his own lap, he hadn’t considered girth into the equation… 

Your mouth opened, saliva pooling in your cheeks as you brought him to your lips. Alastor’s hand snaked back to grab you by the hair and gently keep you off of him, not needing someone’s spit slathered on his skin. 

“Okay now-“ As Vox interjected Alastor’s hand sat still on your head.

“I’ll allow it.” The radio demon had a change of heart at the upset tone of his former friend.

Your tongue blanketed your bottom lip to welcome Alastor in, cheeks hollowing from the size of him alone. Why did he taste like that? Like someone you should only view from your knees? A power to his sweat that made your pussy clench. 

Just a few bobs of your head and he was pulling you off, the job done when Vox seemed to slouch back into the chair in resignation. Large and warm hands guided you onto your back and then onto your right side. Your line of sight was your husband-to-be, claws digging into the fabric of his summoned chair.

It was nice to be handled in your heat. To have strong hands move you around your bed as they wanted you, that alone nearly distracted you from the throbbing of your pussy now showing behind your thighs. Alastor lifted your left leg and used it to pull you to him, a wanton whimper from you when he lined up.

His chuckle was more than annoying, but you were in no position to argue. The sound of impatient tapping momentarily took your focus away; Vox’s foot hitting the tile floor. Your eyes followed up his body to meet his stare just in time for you to let out a loud, shakey gasp. Another came before you could catch your breath, the stretch burning as Alastor pressed in.

He began small incessant thrusts, your slick lubricating his intrusion with each withdrawal.

Vox watched entranced as your body seemed to melt into the bed with every snap of the deer man’s hips. You had spent the morning tense and sweating, so to see you so lax and comfortable was momentarily reassuring. But as your head lolled back with Alastor bottoming out, a flame of jealousy began to roar in sincerity. 

“Fuck,” you tried to keep the commentary down to spare your love, but you could feel your walls spreading around Alastor in a way you’d been praying for since you woke up aroused and pained. When he was fully sheathed you had to grip your pillow to keep from rolling onto your back and spreading yourself wider for him. The baser part of your brain urging you to give yourself over to the more-than-suitable mate. 

“You sweet doe, you’re burning up inside. And so swollen. Feeling better?” Alastor said it with such a clear voice you wondered how he was unaffected by your twitching pussy. 

With a nod you buried your face into the pillow clenched in your fists. His thrusts slowed. “Yes,” you ground out. The rhythm picked up again.

“Better than Vox could manage?” He side eyed Vox.

Your left foot came up and pushed at his chin, “Shut up and fuck me.”

“Hmm, afraid I can’t do both,” Alastor pulled out entirely, lower head rubbing side to side as he spread his own precum along your folds. 

Closing your eyes to not see Vox, you mumbled, “Yes.” He wrapped his arms around your left leg for leverage and thrust back into you with a single push. With a shift of his hips his cock hit against your g-spot with every entry. Your breaths quickly devolved into raspy gasps.

You felt a rush of slick as your body responded to the stimulation. The sound of Alastor’s cock sliding in and out of your arousal reached Vox despite being a ways away from the bed. The previous flame in his chest began to lower. Watching your body rock along with the obscene sounds of you being fucked was having an unexpected effect on him. With a gulp he let his hand rest on his lap, a gentle pressure as he palmed his growing erection.

The deep reach of the radio demon’s cock churning up your insides was felt by you and seen by Vox.

“You’re doing so well, dear. Look how wet you’ve gotten.” One hand came down to run past your clit, “I promise to have you dripping.” He turned his head fully to Vox now, “That’s why I’m here, after all. To breed you.” Vox opened his mouth to shout when Alastor rolled you onto your stomach. The curve of his dick resumed hitting your inner spot, wide cock dragging against every inch of your walls. A pleasured cry, your pillow lost. Bringing your legs up and out you let instincts take over.

The yell died in Vox’s throat. His hand shifted to rubbing his cock through his pants. “Are you done yet?” He saw the swelling bulge at the base of Alastor’s own cock.

You didn’t hear the question, only processing sticky flesh slapping together and your own loud moans.

“My knot needs to be bigger. I want to make sure I plug her up well.” Alastor knew he could finish now but he just needed a few more moments of fucking with the overlord. His eyes came to watch himself disappear into your seemingly too small hole, “Is that what you want? To be stuffed with my knot?” 

You vaguely registered his gaze had moved from where you two connected up to your face. A hand coming to tug at your tail and grip it from the base tore an answer from you, “Please. Please, Please.”

“Do you remember my name in that brain fog?” He took both ankles now and pushed your legs as wide open as they’d reach.

Vox could see the shine on Alastor’s growing knot as he seemed to push more and more in with each thrust. His palm felt the slight damp of his precum soaking through his pants.

He had a name? Right. Yes he had a name. You dug through the mess of your thoughts, an empty room of smoke and sensations, and found it. “Alastor. Alastor please!” Vox had entirely disappeared, it was just the thick cocked buck pounding into you in your bed now. 

“Aww, that’s a good doe. And are you ready for my knot?” Your legs struggled in his grip as you attempted to thrust back onto him to take all he had for you. He hummed, hips slowly as he fought back the pending release, “But you’re still so tight… did Vox even try to fuck you?” 

Vox cried out a small, “Oh, come on. Jackass.” It didn’t stop his hand though. He couldn’t argue Alastor was thicker than he was, even his knot seemed unfairly large.

“Fuck you,” you managed, stomach muscles tightening and drawing your body toward him as the pleasure ratcheted up by leaps and bounds. 

Alastor pulled out entirely again, releasing your legs. The whimper you let out momentarily softened Vox’s cock. “I’m sorrrrry,” you pouted, “Come baaaack.” You thought you would cry, as soon as he was out of your cunt the painful throb was creeping back in. You needed his skin on yours. His body in yours. 

You were rolled onto your stomach, his hands wrapping around to pick you up by the hips. On all fours, he sunk back in. “Shh,” big palms stroke down your back, “don’t forget to breath, sweetheart.” Your body was meant to take a knot during heat and you knew you were capable of taking it, but a small panic made you crawl up the bed as the large, throbbing bulb threatened to tear the delicate skin of your opening. Those same powerful hands you praised before now dug fingers into your hips and held you still. Bruises he hoped Vox would have to see for days. 

A small sob as he mercifully forced the rest of himself in with one harsh thrust, his crotch finally coming into contact with your ass. Again, without thinking, you pulled away and saw stars. It took just a second though for your brain to flood your body with the feel good chemicals it had been withholding all day. The pulsing knot vibrating against your puffy g-spit, wide cock head just barely breaching your cervix and flooding your womb and walls with thick cum; it was everything you needed. Your vision went white as your orgasm made your thighs give out, body going limp entirely.

Vox knew very well what it meant as your entire body trembled, hips stuck against Alastor as the rest of you went boneless.

Alastor took a deep breath. It was oddly refreshing, a form of stress relief he hadn’t considered before. Long claws made barely there lines up and down your thighs.

Pressing his chest into your back, he carefully grabbed your body and rolled you onto your side again to face Vox, him still behind you.

Vox stood up, saw the tenting of his pants and sat back down, throwing one left over the other, “Well! That’s finally done with. You can get the fuck out as soon as your freak penis goes back to normal.”

Alastor laughed, your mind entirely having checked out in your blissful state. Your stupid and content smile spread wide as his body shook slightly behind you. He propped himself up on his elbow to look at Vox.

“You went through all the trouble of finding one of the few other deer demons in hell to replace me, yet didn’t bother to learn about her biology.” His grin morphed into a smirk so wide his black gums were showing, “Heats last several days, Voxy.”

༻Masterlist༺

Added July 15th Luci x GN!Angel reader - Yes (Continuation of Lucifer x GN!AngelReader (fic based on Griftwood by ghost))

Added July 14th A Very Hazbin Happy Birthday imagine (Alastor, Luci, Angel, Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, Vox, Valentino)

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies ,

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , , @fizzled-phoenix , @whateverlololo

, @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl

, @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain ,

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby ,

@dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 ,

@star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

,

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

HI OKAY SO IM THINKING LIKE VOX X READER AND VOX OWNS READERS SOUL AND THEN HE GETS JEALOUS OR ANGRY ABOUT SOMETHING SO LIKE WE RECREATE THAT SCENE WITH HUSK AND ALASTOR WHEN ALASTOR HAS HUSK ON A CHAIN BUT INSTEAD OF ALASTOR ITS VOX AND INSTEAD OF HUSK ITS READER IF U KNOW WHAT I MEANN TYYY

Guess who's baaaaaaaaack~

Lock and Key [Vox x Reader] - Part 1

It had been weeks. Three fucking weeks. Three weeks since the Radio Demon tuned back into the spotlight of Hell. Three weeks since Vox had been anything more than a vengeful shell of himself fueled by broken memories and spite. Three weeks since he'd so much as looked your way. You walk into his surveillance room, smiling softly at the sharks swimming in the inky depths far below the path. They'd made you a bit paranoid at first, but you've come to grow fond of the cyborg creatures. Your smile dims as you look up at the silhouette of Vox crouched over his dashboard, his eyes flickering as he obsessively drums his claws against sleek metal.

It had been ages since he'd even acknowledged your presence, let alone addressed you directly. His attention had been entirely consumed by his revenge fantasies and bitter recollections of the past.

“Vox, you should take a break,” you sigh, putting a hand on his shoulder as you try to get enough of his attention to at least warrant a glance. Vox's fingers pause in their drumming as he looks up at you, a flicker of irritation flashing across his face as he shrugs your hand off him.

"I don't need a break," He mutters, his tone as sharp as his clawed fingers. "I need Alastor dead."

His eyes are fixed on one of the screens displaying Alastor's image. He's been obsessively watching his every move ever since the Radio Demon's return. "Besides," he adds, his voice taking on a mocking tone. "Why would I listen to you? I didn’t take you on as a babysitter.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath as your worries are confirmed. Ever since his descent into obsession, he'd become sharp-tongued. He was always like that with the Vee's or his assistant Reef. But not you. Never you. Not until Alastor appeared.

"Vox, it's been weeks. I can watch the monitors for you if you're that worried about missing something. Just sleep. Eat. Go for a walk. Something," you plead. As you speak, Vox's jaw twitches slightly, his gaze flickering over the cameras trained on the hotel and Cannibal Town. "You don't understand, do you? This isn't a game." He taps a clawed finger against the screen, frustration growing in his voice. "You have no idea what this fucker is capable of. He's got something planned with that Morningstar bitch. I just know it.”

He turns away from the screen to fix a cold glare on you.

"And I don't need you to tell me how to handle MY business." You look to the side with a hurt frown, no longer bothering to hide the way his sharp tone makes you flinch. You'd fallen for him and there were times you wondered, hoped that he felt the same. But before you'd ever been able to find out, Alastor returned, destroying any hope you had left being crushed in the process.

"The other Vee's still need you Vox. The company still needs you."

I still need you.

Left unspoken. Because you didn't have the right to say it. You were a lowly employee he had taken an interest in and swept out from under Velvette with a deal after he grew fond of you. He kept you by his side like some sort of pet. You didn't have to work. In exchange for your soul, your only purpose was to stay by his side. 

As you bring up the subject of the company and the Vee's, a flicker of something almost akin to regret crosses his face. He knows that his current state is taking a toll on his work life.

But he shoves it down with a sneer of irritation.

"The others can manage without me for a while," he says dismissively. "And the company practically runs itself anyway. I've got everything under control."

He glances at you again, his gaze lingering on your hurt expression. Despite his efforts to push you away, a pang of guilt shoots through him. However, it's gone the second he thinks he hears a sound from one of the drones watching the hotel. His head whips around and he curses as he reviews the missed footage. The drone footage shows nothing but mundane scenes of the hotel, with no sign of Alastor or any suspicious activity. This only fuels Vox's irritation, and he slams his fist on the dash in frustration.

"Damn it!" He hisses, his gaze darkening. "I knew I shouldn't have let my guard down."

He stands up abruptly, turning to look at you with an accusatory glare.

"Out. Now." Your eyes widen and you hold up a hand as you try to calm him. "Wait. Just hang on a second, there wasn't even anything on the-" "I don't care," he snaps, interrupting you mid-sentence as his eye flares. "I told you, I can't afford to have any distractions. And you, with your endless nagging, are the biggest one of them all."

He steps closer, towering over you and giving an icy glare that cuts off any further protests.

"I said OUT. Now." You're teleported out of his lair and fall on your ass in the shared penthouse lobby of the Vee's upstairs. Valentino blinks, looking mildly surprised from where he lounges on the couch. Val watches curiously as you stumble, a sly smile spreading across his face. He rises from his place on the couch, slinking closer to you with a lazy grace.

"Looks like Voxy is getting a little bit cranky again, hm?" he teases, his voice low and sultry. "What'd you do to get on his bad side this time, darling?" "I had the audacity to suggest he take a break," you laugh dryly as you flop into the chair beside the couch. Val chuckles, settling back into the couch and taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Big mistake there," he muses. "Vox gets prickly as hell when he's on edge, and right now, he's on edge 24/7. Ever since that damn Alastor got back."

He gives you an appraising look.

"Though I gotta say, you do seem to have him in a bit of a twist."

A small chuckle would leave Valentino’s lips upon hearing that as he reached over and patted your head a few times.

“I just wish he’d get Alastor’s cane out of his ass,” you groan as you drag a hand down your face. “He’s a fucking mess.”

“Oh, you sweet summer bitch. This is nothing compared to how he was when the Radio Demon first fucked off,” He remarked as he picked up his bottle again, taking a swig of his vodka.

"He wouldn’t eat, go to work… Wouldn’t even leave that stupid bunker he made for himself back in the day. All the dude did was obsess over Alastor. I nearly ditched his ass, but then his obsession took a new turn. Being better than the old prick. Now we have the Vee's."

Valentino’s eyes softened with a distant look as he spoke. It was the most contemplative you’d seen him. But it’s gone as he takes another swig of his bottle.

"So... what? Just wait it out?" you ask as you take in his experiences, opting not to comment that instead of breakfast, Valentino was nursing Vodka like it was his morning coffee.

Valentino chuckled. “Pretty much. He’ll either run himself into the ground or eventually snap himself out of it. He won’t bend for you. He wouldn’t bend for me. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing for me… Doesn’t have to be for you, either,” He said as he frowned at his empty bottle before tossing it to the side.

“If anything, consider it as time off. Let loose. Make the most of it,” he shrugs as he snaps and Kitty brings him a new bottle. 

“If he's not giving you dick then go get some fucking dick. I can't remember the last time I saw you anywhere but at his heel."

You sigh as you lean back and consider it. You and Vox weren't exclusive... Even if you wish you were. Sure, there were the occasional moments of something more. Something real. But he's Vox. And you're... just you.

Ultimately, there's no reason for you to be so devoted to a man who probably sleeps around just as much as Valentino. Especially when he obviously cared so little for you now.

Valentino watched as the gears in your head seemed to turn, a small smirk making it’s way across his face as he watched you. He didn’t need to ask what you were thinking. He knew exactly what was going on inside that pretty little head of yours.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” He teased, the smirk on his face only growing.

"Not with you, if that's what you're hoping," you say as you stick out your tongue at him.

A small chuckle left Valentino’s lips upon hearing that as he shook his head.

“You know me so well~” He remarked before pausing for a moment, resting his head on his hand as he continued to watch you. “But seriously, do it. It’ll do you some good. Want me to set you up with one of my whores?"

"Maybe nothing that direct," you wince. It wasn't that you hated the idea. You preferred things to happen in the moment, rather than schedule getting bent in half. "Got any club recommendations, though?" -----

And that's how you found yourself in a loud club, sitting at the bar and regretting the life choice of listening to Valentino of all people. The club was loud, your skirt kept riding up your thigh, and the drinks were overpriced as fuck. This had sounded like a fun idea at the time, but now you remembered why you never really did this.

You're just about to call it a night when a sinner comes up next to you and waves down the bartender.

"Two shots for me and the pretty lady who looks like she'd rather be anywhere but here," he says before grinning at you with a wink.

You hadn’t even noticed this man’s approach to the bar, let alone that he was now sitting beside you as he called over the bartender.

As you listened to him order two shots for the two of you, your eyes rolled a little as you found yourself internally groaning at the prospect of needing to talk to someone new. You’d much rather be sulking at home, staring at the wall as you waited for your boss to finish up with his obsession. Yet, here you were.

"That obvious?" You chuckle sheepishly as the bartender puts two shot glasses down and pours a glowing blue liquid into them.

He chuckled alongside you as he watched the bartender pour the shots before turning to you, his lips curling into a smirk.

“Pretty obvious. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so unhappy in a club before and trust me, that's saying something." He commented with a wink as he picked up one of the shot glasses, offering it to you.

You hesitate for a moment before taking the shot glass with a small smile and a nod.

You both chuck back the drinks, though the stranger does it with far more ease than you. You cough and sputter as you feel an icy hot feeling rush through your chest as you put down the glass. "Oh, wow. That's..." you laugh as you try to adjust to the feeling and hit your chest.

The stranger chuckled as he watched you struggle to handle the shot, clearly amused by your reaction to the drink.

"That's a strong drink, sweetheart," he remarked. "First time in a club? You seem a little out of your element."

"Just a bit," you chuckle before sighing and turning to lean on the bar and watch all the people on the dance floor.

"An... acquaintance suggested I come here and try to get laid to get over this dick I've been pining over,” you hum. “He's too busy obsessing over someone from his past. Plus, he's my boss. Unrequited doesn't even begin to cover it."

The stranger chuckled once more as he listened, his eyes roaming over your form for a moment before resting his head in his hand on the bar. He took a moment as he watched you before speaking up again.

"Let me guess. You're the secretary to some important and well-known Overlord and you're a little too fixated on him, huh?"

Your eyes widen before you throw your head back with a groan. "Oh my god, Valentino sent you, didn't he?"

The stranger laughed as he watched your eyes widen and your head fall back in frustration, clearly entertained by your reaction.

"He didn't 'send' me, per se. He just mentioned how miserable you've been lately and how he suggested you come here and get lucky."

He paused for a moment, his eyes raking over your form once more. "Although, I can definitely see why he'd want you to get laid."

You sigh and open your mouth to reply when your phone suddenly buzzes in your pocket. You hold up a finger, asking for a moment as you pull out your phone and see who texted you.

There's a single message from Velvette that reads, "You owe me for this."

You quirk a confused brow at the lack of context, shaking your head and pocketing your phone before turning to face Valentino's employee again.

"Tell you what," you hum. "Two more of those shots, and I'm yours."

His grin widens. "Now that's something I like to hear," he remarked as he leaned in a little closer to you as he motioned over the bartender again.

"Two more shots of the good stuff. And make them both a double."

Everything becomes a blur after downing the alcohol. Hands on your body, lights flashing, music pounding in your ears as he grinds against you on the dance floor.

It's supposed to feel good. In a way, it does. But as you close your eyes, you can't help but find yourself wishing the soft fingers brushing over your skin were cool metal claws. That the sweeter smelling cologne was the sharper scent of your boss's. That it was him instead of a stranger.

The stranger's hands continued to roam your body as his lips found their way to your neck, littering your skin with kisses and small nips with his teeth. His hands grabbed your hips firmly, pulling you closer to him as he ground against you.

As you closed your eyes, your mind was filled with thoughts and memories of your boss. The way his claws felt against your skin, the familiar scent of his cologne, and the way he looked at you like you were a rare piece of art. It was a stark contrast to the current situation.

Is this really supposed to make you feel better? If so, why does your stomach feel like it's tangled in a knot? Why do you feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes despite the heat pooling in your core?

Despite the pleasure you were feeling from the stranger's touch, you couldn't shake off the feeling of emptiness and disappointment. Every moment that passed felt more and more wrong. It all served as a cruel reminder that the person you truly wanted wasn't the one touching you.

Your stomach was in knots, and tears were threatening to fall as the stranger's lips trailed along your neck, leaving small marks in their wake. You clenched your fists as you fought the urge to push him away and run out of the club.

And then suddenly a hand grabs your wrist and yanks you to the side. Your eyes widen as you drunkenly stumble into arms that only take a moment for you to register as familiar. 

The stranger's eyes widen in surprise as Vox suddenly grabs your wrist and pulls you roughly towards him, his claws digging into your skin leaving small impressions in their wake. His glare towards the sinner who had just been feeling you up was sharp and deadly, his eyes fixated on the man as he held you tightly against his chest.

"Your services are no longer required. Beat it." He growled, his voice low and filled with anger.

Your heart was still hammering in your chest as you found yourself pressed against Vox's chest, the feel of his claws still digging into your skin. He held you tightly, possessively almost.

Before the sinner can reply, you and Vox suddenly disappear with a flash of cyan light. He takes you back to his office in the Vee's tower and you're only given a small moment to reorient yourself from the electric buzz in your veins.

"You," Vox's voice broke the silence, his tone filled with a mixture of anger and something else you couldn't quite place. His claws dug harshly into your arms as he forced you to look up at him.

"Ẃ̴̡ĥ̵͚a̸̗̎t̷͕͌.̶̻̐ ̶̰̃W̸̹̅e̴̡̅r̸̬͝e̷͎͘.̶̤̎ ̴̻͠Y̴͎̋ō̵͎ủ̸̯.̷̬̈́ ̷̬̾T̸̛͍ḧ̸͉́i̴̭̅n̸̞̆k̷̡͐i̶̦͝n̷͉͐g̸̱͝?̴͚͋"

Later on, you'd blame your bold honesty on the alcohol. But in the moment, there wasn't any rational thought or self-preservation left in your mind as you frowned and pulled his hand off of you despite how much you had been craving his touch.

"What does it matter to you? Shouldn't you be in your little stalking cave trying to watch the Radio Demon? It's all you ever do anymore."

Vox's eyes widened slightly in surprise as you pulled his hand away from you, his expression hardening at your words. The tone in your voice was bitter and laced with anger. But he didn't miss the underlying note of hurt underneath.

"So you go and throw yourself at a stranger instead? How is that better?" He shot back, his tone sharp and laced with irritation.

"Maybe it is!" you lie as you throw your hands up. "At least that guy looked at me. It was one thing when you would blow me off for Valentino. That was something I already knew I was getting into when whatever this started," you say as you gesture between the two of you.

"But you never so much as mentioned Alastor. The guy reappears and suddenly he's all you care about," you huff as the tension builds. "If you can't be damned to so much as look my way, then it isn't your business if I find someone else to fuck me, now is it?"

Vox's eyes darkened at your words, his jaw clenching as he took in your words. He could feel the tension between you growing, the air in the room thick with anger and hurt.

"Oh, is that what this is about? You're jealous because I've been focused on Alastor?" He questioned, his voice low and sharp. "Did it ever occur to you that this is important to me? That there's a reason I've been so preoccupied?"

"Of course it did!" you snap. "You think this is just about sex? I tried to be there for you! I tried to ask! I tried to understand! Tried to pull you away from your obsession long enough to at least sleep! But it was like I was invisible."

You pinch your brow, trying to keep yourself from crying angry tears. You didn't want to look weak. "Look. I got the message. Okay? Valentino and Alastor. You clearly have priorities and as your little fucking pet or whatever, far be it for me to get in the way of that."

You turn on your heel to walk away and to your credit, you make it a few steps before the air charges with electricity. Your breath catches in your throat as a collar made of his signature cyan plasma materializes around your neck, linked to a chain that suddenly goes taught as he pulls.

You yelp as you're spun around and forced to the ground, just barely catching yourself with your hands as he seethes above you.

He had almost felt guilty. The burning in his chest told him that he still did. But then you tried to walk away from him and he found himself unable to let you leave. As soon as you turned, something in him born of all the exhaustion and frustration of the past month made him snap. He yanked at the chain, his eyes focused and intense as he glared down at you.

"You're not going anywhere," he growled, his voice filled with a mix of anger, frustration, and something else. His hand gripped the chain tightly as he pulled you closer, forcing you to stay on the ground at his feet.

"You don't get to just walk away like that. Not after all this. I own you. He pulls on the chain, looping the excess length around his hand. “If I say you're not fucking around with other lowlifes then you're not. If I say you will sit at my heel every day for the next week to make up for this insolence, then you fucking ŵ̶͔i̵͕͛l̵̖̓l̸̩͠.̴̙̋ You whimper as he yanks harder, making you choke and stumble forward.

He continues with a feral edge to his grin as he pays you no sympathy. “Because you're mine, damn it. You don't get to vanish on me. You don't get to leave me for a dumb w̸̩̍h̵͔̕o̷̡̓r̸͍̃ȅ̷̹," he grits his teeth as he pulls the chain taught. Memories of Alastor and Valentino race through his mind. He wouldn't be second place to someone else. Not again.

"I won't allow you the luxury,” he says with a quiver in his voice as his screen dims temporarily.

He shakes his head, the light returning to his face as his grip tightens. "You're not going anywhere," he growled, his voice filled with a mix of anger, frustration, and something else.

The anger in his voice and his rough treatment of the chain around your neck surprised even him. He was possessive, that's no secret, but he had never acted like this before. The idea of you slipping away and finding comfort in someone else's arms made his blood boil.

His hand gripped the chain tightly, forcing you to look up at him as he stood over you. His eyes were intense, one spiraling with his unbridled emotions.

You instinctively crawl forward as he tugs on the electric shackles, wrapping the length of it around his other hand in a way that really shouldn't be doing things to you the way it is.

He leans down and takes your chin over his claw. "Even if my attention is pulled away temporarily, that doesn't change our contract,” he hums with an almost bored expression as he tilts your face this way and that before tightening his grip. “You're mine,” he growls as he lifts you off of your knees by your face. He ignores your yelp of pain, opting to revel in the blood blossoming across your jawline. “If I say you're to stay by my side, then you stay by my side. That is your only purpose and you'll fulfill it. Do you understand?" He hissed, his voice low and filled with two opposing fires of frustration burning away at the core of his very being.

"I tried to be by your side, but-" A scream cuts off your protests as the chain sparks to life and shocks your entire body. Your head drops down as you pant heavily, squeezing your eyes shut tight as stars dance across your vision.

Vox's eyes darken further as you try to protest again. His irritation only increases as he remembers the scolding he got from Velvette. She was the one who told him about Valentino’s plan to send you to a club to meet one of his employees. Valentino had been waiting for a way to get back at Vox for something else and he’d found it. 

It took Velvette’s lack of tolerance for his shit to finally snap him out of the dickish headspace he’d been in. She sat him down and forced him to watch the footage of his behavior the last week and to look at the business’s declining numbers. He knew he had been short with you, but he didn’t realize for how long he’d neglected and snapped at you.

He never did know how to deal with the feeling of guilt.

Without warning, he gives the chain a sharp yank, causing the chain to spark to life, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your head drops down and your eyes squeeze shut as you cry out in surprise.

"I don't want excuses. I want you to o̵b̶e̷y̶,” He growls, pushing down the squirming shame in the depths of his synthetic chest. “You do what I say, when I say it. You will not go behind my back and do whatever the hell you want."

A grin worthy of a showman like himself spreads on his screen, displaying the nature of his rage as he uses the tip of his boot to lift your chin. "Now. Let's try that again."

to be continued...

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

Power (Vox x reader) 18+

Vox x Reader Rating: Explicit 18+ Porn without plot, Power dynamics, Secretary reader, Choking on dick, Office blowjob. Summary: Vox is wound tight after his on air showdown with the newly returned Alastor. The show must go on though and you have just what he needs to get into the right headspace to move forward.

AN- A little gift for some friends because idk, I can? I'm high off attention? I don't even know anymore. Have a TV Dinner...

Join Us at VoxTek today! A discord server dedicated to Vox and the rest of the Hazbin crew.

Masterlist Kofi AO3

Your heels clicked against the polished tile floors as you approached the heavy doors of your boss’ office. The doors were intimidating to most anyone that had to approach, a sign of the power of the man inside. 

For you though, the only thing that could intimidate you was his mood though you’d never admit it. His moods shifted with the winds, endlessly volatile with a charming smile. 

He was in a foul mood tonight. Between having to clear his schedule to deal with Val’s latest bitch-fit and losing his own shit- not that he would admit to that- on a ring wide broadcast was enough to leave him sour for the day. 

Add in his little hissy fit causing a city wide power outage and having to deal with only getting a phone meeting with Carmine weapons on such short notice… he was in a state. 

The show had to go on though. Just as Val needed Vox to talk him down off the ledge, Vox needed you to bring him back to center. Technically, you were his secretary and for the most part, that was the role you filled but on occasion your tasks went above and beyond the standard secretarial duties.

But perhaps, considering the era Vox had died in, it wasn’t really so much above and beyond your job description after all.

It should have made you feel degraded. You should have raged against being put in a 1950’s stereotype of the sexy secretary. You should have pushed back against sleeping with your boss. 

But, when in Rome. 

It got you a good paycheck, a nice apartment, top quality food and the best entertainment Hell had to offer. Why pretend you were better than that when having the favor of an Overlord brought so much? Plus it got you some Earth shatteringly good sex. Or maybe Hell shatteringly was a better way to put it?

It helped that he had a sexy body and was charming, most of the time. The TV head took some getting used to though. It was cute how it digitized his expressions, broadcasting them for all to see. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had been easy to read in life as well but you’d never ask. 

You didn’t knock when you reached those heavy doors you knew so well. Instead you pulled them open without hesitation and slipped inside as if you belonged. In a way, you did.

Vox glanced over at you, eyes running up and down your figure before going back to the computer he was working at. What he did half the time, you hadn’t a clue. It was above your paygrade. 

“I’m busy, doll.” 

“And in a bad mood, too.” Your hips swayed as you walked up to his desk, unafraid.

Your skirt and blouse were tight, highlighting every asset you had. The click of your heels echoed as you drew nearer to his desk. His eyes only flickered to you as you began to circle it, running your finger tips over the smooth surface. 

You knew how this dance went. 

Rounding on him, you ran your fingers up his arm and across his tense shoulders. You were only just touching him. Fleeting glances of your fingertips teased him, making sure he knew exactly where you were and doing little else. 

“I don’t have time,” He shuddered a bit at your touch, turning to face you, “Expecting a call.”

“Not even enough time for a kiss?” You asked, using the slight opening he created between his lean torso and the hard desk to slip into his lap. Your hip banged against the edge of the desk in the process causing you to swallow a yelp. 

“Doll,” Vox signed before screwing his face up, demanding to be in charge. 

It was just another part of the game between the two of you. The power games between the two of you were what drove you to indulge is touches more often than not. It was intoxicating, having a man such as Vox bend to your touch. 

You slipped a claw tipped finger under his collar, scraping his dark blue neck as you worked it under the bowtie and pulled him to you. 

“Kiss me,” You demanded rather than asked, just how you knew he craved. 

“Baby,” Vox crumbled but you knew he would. Sure, he would bend you over, put you in your place but Vox craved having someone to serve in ways you were not sure he even was fully aware of. 

His kiss was greedy, just like he was. 

Kissing his screen face was never not weird when you thought about it for too long, but it wasn’t unpleasant. His plasma tongue sent sparks through you as as it dipped into your mouth, demanding you submit to his thin lips. He was never a slow kisser, always greedy for more and trying to take it by force. 

It was his greed that gave you power over your boss, limited though it was. 

The ringing of a call sounded through his speakers, shattering your kiss. Having his face ring was never not awkward. It was one thing when a man’s phone would ring on his desk or in his pocket but when his face was his phone? That was a whole different level of weird. 

“Gotta take this,” He sounded less sure as you shifted on his lap, feeling the hardness in his pants. 

You had hardly kissed and yet he was stiff. It didn’t surprise you in the slightest. He knew why you were sent in and you knew that. Just some more steps to the ever so addicting dance. 

“Take the call,” You said as you slipped off his lap, melting to your knees under his desk. “You don’t want to miss a chance to make a deal?” 

“What are you-?” Vox choked on his question as you palmed his crotch. 

“Take your call,” You demanded, “And if you make this deal, I’ll make you see Heaven’s Gate. Be a good boy and get your deal in motion.” 

“Fuck, Doll.” Vox tossed his call to the computer in front of him and answered, all business. 

As he began to speak as you scoot back under his desk, letting the darkness shroud you. He kept his chair leaned back, eyes on you as he ironed out details and specifics, voice full of confidence. You didn’t listen, instead deciding to put on a little show just for him. 

Fingers worked free one button after another on your blouse, slowly exposing the deep blue bra you wore. Not lace, no- you wore slick silk. Smooth, clean lines cupping your breasts and ensuring they looked their best. 

Vox was a modern man with modern tastes, even if he liked a classic scandalous preoccupation with his secretary. You tailored your undergarments to match. 

As you ran your hands over your chest and down your body his eyes followed every twitch of your fingertips. He watched you as you hiked your skirt up, bunching the clingy fabric around your hips as you showed him the matching panties, center between your legs visibly darker even in the shadows you sat in. Smooth fabric made running your hands over your moist covered slit easy. 

Vox’s cock strained against his pants as he watched you, now fully engorged. His voice never wavered though, as he did his job like the master he was. No one would ever know how distracted he was except you. 

The call was quick, over after a few minutes with a promise to send a write up of the proposal. Now it was your time to act. If you didn’t, he would take control and you didn’t want that. Right now, what you wanted was to make him mush in your hands. 

And you would. 

You climbed up on your knees, resting your head against his thigh for a moment as he carded his dangerous claws through your hair. For a moment, you indulged in the soft affection. It was the moments of soft affection, complements dished out casually that risked making you think for even a moment that this was more than just a arrangement. 

You could feel the heat of his cock, still contained but straining for freedom just in front of your face, reminding you why you were there. Reaching up, you palmed him again, feeling how much harder he was as you ran your lips along the length of his still cloth covered member. 

“Fuck, Doll, were you trying to set me up for failure?” Vox’s voice warbled out for a moment, wavering with his excitement. 

“Do you fail at anything?” You teased, leaning back to look at him as you ran your hands up and down his spread thighs, each pass taking you closer to his cock, teasing him with how you had withdrawn your touch. 

“No,” Vox said firmly, smile growing on his screen as he looked down at you fondly. 

You laughed at his arrogance, trying to put a lid on any feelings the look on his face could stir up. It was better to focus on his confidence. It was one of the traits you found so attractive about him. 

“I did promise you a reward, didn’t I?” Your fingers worked his belt open and slowly pulling the zipper of his pants down. 

You didn’t waste time in pulling him from his pants, fingers eager to wrap around his length. Just as you didn’t need to knock on his office door and wait for permission, you had blanket access to him as well. The knowledge that he wouldn’t deny you made you feel all sorts of ways. 

“Get up here,” Vox tried to demand but it sounded more like a plea.

Just how you liked it. This was what you did to such a powerful man. While you were physically on your knees for him, you he was the one who was really on the ground. 

Instead of back talking, you simply ran your tongue up the underside of his dark blue cock, taking in the salty taste of his skin. The veins were prominent and glowed ever so slightly a blue light, hardly noticeable if not for the darkness under his desk. You wouldn’t have ever considered a penis to be pretty before but Vox’s changed that. 

He had a penis that was, frankly, pretty though if you had told him that you could imagine the scoff easily. It made you crave it, crave having the weight of it in your mouth. The sight of it alone made your mouth water.

Dark blue, light glow and dusty pink at the tip. What a treat he made. You needed him in your mouth. 

He groaned as you wrapped your lips around his tip, wasting no time. Legs stretched out around you as he leaned further back in his chair. A gasping breath shuttered through him as you set to work. 

You ran your tongue over the tip, sucking softly as you looked at him. His screen was pointed down at you, eyes blazing into you. Pink tinted the blue background of his screen, seeping in from the edges, just as pink dusted the tip of his cock.

Did he know that he matched? It didn’t matter, with your mouth full you couldn’t tell him anyway. 

What mattered was the sounds falling from his mouth as you worked more of him into your mouth painfully slowly. Wrapping your fingers around his shaft, you stroked what you hadn’t taken in yet. 

It would be a matter of time before Vox got another call or someone came knocking on the office door. That was part of the excitement though. Claw tipped fingers curled, fisting in your hair as you sucked more of him into your mouth leisurely. 

You were going too fast for him, you knew that but you couldn’t help it. His strong thighs twitched and flexed under your hands as more of him disappeared into your mouth. Down you sank, one slow inch at a time until he hit the back of your throat. 

Slowly you pulled back, dancing your tongue over the sensitive underside of his cock while you did so. 

“Don’t tease me, Doll.” His fist tightened, pulling captured hair roughly in the process. 

The moan that poured up your throat and washed over his cock had him twitching on your tongue as you sank back down, pushing him as deep as you could in your current position only to slowly pull back once again.

He hated it when you teased him like this. It drove him insane. He would never admit it but you knew, he loved it. 

“Faster.” He demanded as you looked up at him, breasts moving with every deep breath you took as you licked and sucked the head of his cock as if it was a piece of candy. 

With the hand at the back of your head, he put pressure on your head in an attempt to guide you back down his shaft. That wouldn’t do.

Pulling back, you let his head fall from your lips with a pop. The pressure on you head wasn’t something you could overpower and so, you didn’t fight it after letting him free. He was unprepared as he shoved your face into his crotch. 

“Please, babydoll-”

You smiled at his words, kissing the base of his shaft only to work your way back up toward his tip.

“What do you want?” You spoke, lips moving against his shaft teasingly. His hips flexed, thrusting his spit slick cock against your mouth. 

“Stop teasing,” His breath was already coming labored, much to your delight. “Put that pretty little mouth of yours to work.” 

“But I am?” You blinked up at him, feigning innocence even as you slowly took his cock back into your mouth and bobbed on it twice. 

“Faster.” He demanded, voice not quite giving his demand the power to force you to comply. 

Again, you let it free with a pop in order to speak, “I don’t know, you didn’t make the deal.” 

“But I will,” He promised, voice straining as you stroked his chock casually. “I’ll make the deal.” 

You loved it when he got like this. Pleading. “I don’t know if that’s good enough,” Pausing, you licked and kissed his pink tinted head as you let him sit on the thought a moment longer. “You know, they had to pull me out of a meeting to come to you. That’s so inconvenient…” 

“Please,” You smiled at his word, rubbing your thighs together as he looked down at you, “Please, I’ve been good, I- Fuck.” 

You sant down his cock, raising up on your knees carefully to avoid banging your head on the solid desk above you as you adjusted your position. One deep breath and you sank lower, lower and he slipped into your throat. 

“Fuck,” He whispered as you sank as far down as you could. 

Never could you have taken all of him into your throat but you tried. For the sounds he made, you always tried. Reaching into his pants, you pulled his balls free. Rolling them in your hand, you backed up again.

“No, baby-” Vox whimpered as you kissed his head again. “Please,” 

Reaching down your body, you ran your fingers over your silk covered slit as you sank down again. Faster and faster, you bobbed along his length. The sounds he made drove you on. 

“Please,” He repeated the word and your name as he grew more desperate.

It was music to your ears. This is how you liked him, powerful and folding to you. You could taste his power on your tongue, static electricity dancing over his skin as he watched his cock disappear into your mouth again and again. 

You spread you knees, slipping your hand under the waistband of your silk panties, stuck tightly to your skin by your fluids. His pleasure was your goal. His pleasure was your job but you were not above indulging in your own as you moaned around him. 

He begged as he watched your hand pleasure yourself under the shiny blue silk. You clenched around your fingers as you dipped inside, feeling just how excited you were to be partially undressed and on your knees in Vox’s office. 

You moaned around him as you ran your fingers over your clit expertly. You knew exactly how to touch yourself. 

“Please, Babydoll,” Vox’s hips thrust forward, jabbing the head of his cock so far down your throat that you gagged on him. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Now was when the dance would change. Vox could only give up power for so long. He would only be weak to you for so long. 

“I’m close,” His hand ran through your hair, pulling stands away from your face and fisting again in the back. “Doll, can I?” 

Though he asked, you both knew he wasn’t really asking. Still, you moaned in approval as the coil in your core pulled tighter and tighter. Your practiced fingers paired with his moans and the way he looked at you brought you to the edge of your own orgasm. 

As your orgasm washed over you, you moaned deeply around him. That was the last thing he needed for his cock to begin twitching. You hardly had a chance to breath as his fist at the back of your head drove your head up and down his cock. His hips matched his pace. 

You could do nothing but hold onto his thigh as you rode out your high. He used your throat to chase his high until he pushed you down hard on his cock, your nose grazing the soft skin above his cock as his cum exploded down your throat. 

He thrust lazily as he rode out his high, spilling his seed on your tongue as you struggled to swallow it down. It wasn’t an offensive taste, salty and tasting like plasma. It was your turn to be greedy as you softly sucked his tip and licked his shaft clean, not wanting to waste a drop.

When the overstimulation got to him, Vox pushed you away harshly. You fell in a heap under his desk, clothes and hair a mess but satisfied smile on your face as you looked up at his blue screen.

You couldn’t read it from where you sat but you knew what those little white words along the bottom of the screen read. 

Vox had overheated and an error message proclaimed that your mouth was too good while he sat still, chest rising and falling in deep breaths you never understood how he took in that state, without a mouth on the screen. 

You may not have territory or the power to take lives. You may not be independently wealthy but you were far from powerless. 

You had the power to short circuit the reigning king of the technological sector of Pentagram City. 

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

A Bed Of Electric Flowers (18+ Vox x Reader)

Vox x Reader Rated: Adult Content: Established long term relationship, Sex pollen trope, sex toy use, female masterbation, Vox's glowstick dick, way too many tv details, Male receiving oral, cowgirl, vox blue screens, missionary.

Summary: A unexpected floral arrangement is delivered to your door as you're trying to ignore the lingering absence of your flat faced boyfriend. When Vox returns home and finds you in a compromising position, he's eager to assist even without a clue as to what has you so worked up.

AN- Header done in part by the wonderful, amazing, fantastical @redvexillum (I could cry it looks so good- that’s a lie, I *am* crying) 

Join Us at VoxTek today! A discord server dedicated to Vox and the rest of the Hazbin crew.

~~~~~<3

The ringing of your doorbell startled you out of the tv trance you had been in for the last few hours. Vox was working late, as was typical, and you deserved to have a couch potato night with popcorn, trash tv and, comfortable pajamas that you may or may not have stolen from your boyfriend’s drawer. 

“Delivery,” A voice called from the intercom at the door. 

As was building policy, the delivery person left the item on the table by the door as soon as you acknowledged them and left. You were not expecting any deliveries at the moment but it wasn’t uncommon in the slightest for you boyfriend to send gifts and trinkets on a whim. 

At times it felt like he was trying to buy your affections. You knew that simply was just how Vox was. It didn’t help that in the past he had had partners who had to be bought to forgive his long work hours and dedication to maintaining his position, both in life and in death. 

You didn’t need gifts and jewelry but that didn’t stop him from getting them for you. 

What you needed was his time and fortunately, that was more often than not what he had in short supply. Vox worked hard and he worked a lot. That left you alone a lot of the time. You loved him though and because of that love, you were committed to making it work. 

Opening the door, you found a vase full of the most beautiful blue and purple flowers you had ever seen. The arrangement contained some you knew from life, some you had only seen in death and some you’d never seen before at all. It was clearly an expensive arrangement, flowers from up top came with price tags few in the Pride ring could afford. 

The simple gesture warmed your heart and made you smile, though it wasn’t needed. No matter how many times you told him though, the gestures would never stop.

You had always loved flowers and while Vox thought it was silly since they would just wilt and die, it wasn’t uncommon for him to indulge you when he’s realized he had been away for longer than you liked. 

You hummed as you carried them inside, setting the vase on your nightstand after clicking the TV off. It was getting late and it was clear Vox wasn’t going to come by again tonight if he sent flowers. May as well get your beauty sleep, right?

You ran your hand along the back of your neck as you brushed your teeth, wiping the sweat away. The weather in Hell was predictably hot and sometimes the AC couldn’t keep up, even in Vox tower. It seemed like tonight was going to be one of those nights. 

After a look to the comfortable embrace of your bed, you turned on the shower. The cooling sheets would help but lowering your body temperature first would help you get off to sleep even more. 

Slipping out of the old fashioned button down shirt and loose shorts, you stepped into the shower. The water was warm but not hot as it ran down your back and soaked through your hair. It felt nice. Really nice. 

If you closed your eyes, it almost felt like Vox’s hands running over your body instead of the water. Your mind ran away with that thought. Soon you were standing in the water, imagining the feeling of his firm hands running along your curves. If you tried hard enough, you could feel the way his screen would warm the back of your neck. 

The shower wasn’t helping cool you don’t in the slightest. 

With a sight, you shut off the water and reached for a towel. There was no one in your apartment to hand it to you, to make some thirsty comment about how good you looked wet. 

You decided you were just lonely. 

That was why you were restless. That was why you were hot all over. It had been two weeks since you had seen Vox and even longer since the two of you had last had sex. It wasn’t for the lack of attraction or desire, you were just at that comfortable stage of a relationship where when you’re tired and busy, quality time was more important. 

You were just tired, lonely and horny. That’s all. 

You wiggled your until your slightly damp arms made their way into into Vox’s button up sleep shirt. Every time you slipped into one of his shirts, it made you smile. It always reminded you of the way he would complain about how he missed the ease of a pull over shirt. All his tshirts had wide necks, comically so to accommodate his head.

It smelled clean, laundry fresh and not like his cologne. The only thing in your apartment that smelled like him was his pillow on your bed. The smell was fading on that too. He had been gone far too long, once again. But that wasn’t new. It was the same old routine, just getting longer each time he was away.

He was gone more often than he was there even though he had claimed to have all but moved in. You told yourself that you were okay with it. He worked a lot, often sleeping in his office for a little bit here or there instead of coming home. 

Self pleasure wasn’t something you had particularly enjoyed but desperate times called for desperate measures. You were restless and heat settled into your core that simply wasn’t disappearing. Falling face first onto your bed, you let out a sigh. 

“Vox,” You whined as you rolled onto your back, “I miss you.” 

Silence answered your confession. He didn’t zap into the space with a loud, “Hey, hey, hey!” He didn’t didn’t even walk through the front door. He didn’t come home. Not that you expected him too.

Alone, again. 

Your hand snaked down your body, slipping into the pair of Vox’s shorts you wore. May as well indulge, you decided. You were so horny and it’s not like Vox was there to take care of you. 

As you caressed your clit, you thought about texting Vox. If you called him, would he come? Or was he in a meeting? With a sigh you decided it didn’t matter. You were so horny but you could take care of yourself. It wasn’t worth interrupting his work. 

Your flinger ran lower, gathering slick from your opening to pull up to your clit. You were far more sensitive than you expected, gasping at each teasing pass of your fingers over the bundle of nerves. Normally you wouldn’t be so wet, so sensitive without something or someone to get you going. 

Your finger slipped inside you easily. You were so wet and though you knew what you liked and how you liked it, you struggled to bring yourself close to your orgasm. Each caress left you gasping for breath and yet all it did was make you want more. 

A second finger slipped inside as you palmed your clit, trying to find that place inside you that Vox was so good at hitting. It was no use. 

Minutes ticked by as you were left panting and writhing under your own touch as nothing seemed to be good enough.

With a groan, you pulled your fingers out from your core, smearing slick up your mound as your hand went to rest on your lower abdomen. You were so horny, it wasn’t fair. You shouldn’t be so horny. 

In the back of your mind, you knew something was wrong.

Reaching into your nightstand you grabbed the small box inside. Within the box was the long smooth vibrator and the perfectly average dildo you’d had for longer than you cared to admit. It didn’t get much use and wasn’t worth upgrading. 

The reality was, you hadn’t had much need for them after you had fell into a relationship with Vox. Before Vox, you simply had your old trusty tools to get yourself off quickly and move on with your nights. 

As the vibrator came to life with the press of a button, you slipped the length easily into your sopping hole. The vibrations had your back arching as they moved through your insides. You moaned as you thrust it in and out slowly, ensuring it was coated with your slick before letting it run up to your clit. 

Again you tried to bring yourself to orgasm and yet all you managed to accomplish was working yourself up even more, making yourself more desperate as you clenched around nothing. You rarely had to go through this much effort to satisfy yourself and yet you still couldn’t get there. 

“Fuck,” you whined, grabbing the dildo and running the soft plastic along your slit to coat it with your slick. 

You were so wet and so sensitive and yet nothing was enough. The dildo filled you, slipping inside with the ease of a good fit. It didn’t stretch you or fill you the way Vox did but it felt good enough to have something to clench around. 

Working it in and out, you moaned. It wasn’t enough. You added the vibrator to your clit, holding it in place as you worked yourself over with the dildo. It still wasn’t enough. 

Rolling onto your stomach, you pulled your knees under your chest as you tried to fuck the dildo into you the way Vox would when he took you from behind. Closing your eyes, you tried to pretend it was Vox fucking you but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough. 

“Vox,” You whimpered, imagining his hands on your hips. When you couldn’t will the dildo inside you into being Vox’s, you tried to imagine it was his hands holding the vibrator against your sensitive clit. You tried to tell yourself it was his hands working the dildo in and out of your weeping hole. 

It didn’t stretch you the way Vox did. It didn’t fill you the way vox did. It didn’t call your name the way Vox did. 

“Please, Vox.” You whimpered, eyes closed as you tried so hard to bring yourself to the peak that still eluded you. Tears gathered in your eyes as you worked the dildo in and out, your arm sore from the repeated movements. “Miss you. Need you. Want you, Vox.” 

~~~~~<3

Vox walked into the dark apartment and glanced around, the dim red light of the windows filtered in through the privacy screens combined with the light from his screen to allow him to see his way. 

You hadn’t waited up for him but that was alright. It was late and you deserved your rest. He was mildly disappointed though, having wanted to spend some time with you. There wasn’t anyone he could blame for it though. He made his bed, may as well lay in it. 

He had been working too much lately, he knew that. The fact that you were so accommodating, so gracious about his work schedule was something he never wanted to take for granted. He had been, though. He knew that and he knew he needed to make it up to you. 

Dimming his screen, he tossed his jacket on the barstool next to the kitchen island and made his way through the space. It had been your apartment but in his heart, it felt more like home than his own penthouse did. That was why he never pressured you to move up into it with him or to find a better place. 

This was a space where Vox could just be Vox, not the King of the Tower. 

A sound caught his ear, one that he didn’t expect to hear. Turning toward her bedroom, he followed the sounds of soft sighing and squelching. It was the sounds of sex. 

His heart pounded in his chest, blood pumping hard through his audio processers. He had spent too much time away and if what he feared was happening was actually happening, he couldn’t blame you. He wouldn’t blame you. 

Would he kill the man? Without a doubt. Would he be hurt? Sure. But he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to blame you. You wouldn’t have been the first to get tired of waiting for him and go on to find another to fill the place he so often left vacant. 

Opening the door, he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. 

You were on the bed, on your knees and head down. Your ass was up, legs spread as you worked a pale pink dildo into your sopping cunt. Each weak thrust squelched as you gasped softly. A vibrator was held weakly in your hand, pressed against your clit from below. 

Your eyes were hardly more than slits, distracted by what you were doing. His presence wasn’t noticed as you softly called out his name again and again. 

There was no one else. There was no other man. You hadn’t replaced him, at least not with anything with a heartbeat. The attempt to replace him artificially was clearly unsuccessful. 

He knew you were not one that often took pleasure into your own hands. That wasn’t to say he had thought it never happened, just that he knew what was in the boxes in your nightstand just as much as he knew they had a lot of dust over their lids that had begun to build up. 

Never did he expect to walk into the bedroom and see this. The sight made his knees weak as he stumbled to the bed. The emotional whiplash of the last few minutes had his mind fuzzy and heart pounding. 

He wished he could smell the room. Did it smell like sex? Did it smell of your juices? 

You didn’t notice he was in the room even as he fell to his knees at the foot of the bed. Reaching out with trembling hands, he longed for the feeling of your skin under his touch. He was too entranced by the way you worked the dildo in and out of your wet cunt. 

When his hands made contact with the back of your thighs, you jumped. The dildo slipped from your hand and the vibrator fell to the bed as you turned to look over your shoulder at him. Vox couldn’t help but reach out, steading the dildo that was slowly was slipping from your hole. 

“Vox?” you whimpered as he pushed the dildo deeper. 

“What have you been up to?” Vox slipped the dildo out before pushing it back in again, fucking you with it again and again. “You seem needy. Been thinking about me?” 

“Please,” you whined, rocking your hips back into the dildo, “Please Vox. Need you.” 

“Alright,” Vox slipped the dildo from you, watching intently as your hole twitched, seeking the feeling of being filled. Rising from his knees, Vox set himself on the edge of the bed to toe off his shoes. “Let me-”

“Need you,” you whined, crawling across the bed to join him. 

You ran your hands along his back, moaning at the strong muscles under your hands. Pressing your naked front to him, you reached around to caress his chest and abdomen. You ran your hands across him, feeling the way he leaned into your touch. 

“You’re making this hard, dollface.” 

“I’ll make this harder,” you said, reaching down to palm his cock through his pants. 

He was already hard, straining against the fabric prison he was in but you were determined to make him even harder. Breasts pressed tightly against his back, you worked his pants open and pulled him free before he had a chance to protest. 

The slight glow to his erect member was always one of the most beautiful sights. You loved that you could always find your way to him in the dark. His hips twitched, jumping under your hand as you caressed his length. 

“You gonna let me get undressed?” Vox’s voice glitched out for a moment, bright blue light flashing to bathe the room for a short moment. “I’m a bit overdressed still and you’re being distracting.”

“I need you,” if asked, Vox would say you poured around his side as if you had become liquid. 

“Be patient,” Vox ordered as you all but curled around him, mouth drawing close to his glowing cock while he worked his tie free from around his neck. 

You licked at the head of his cock, tongue greedy for the taste of him. His hands trembled as you wasted no time pulling his cock into your mouth, working to take him as deep as you could. 

“Fuck,” Vox’s fingers curled, claws slipping into your hair as he fought the urge to push your head down on his cock. 

Your pace was slow and greedy as Vox leaned back. He could see the curve of your breast , the soft lines of your body and feel your overwhelming warmth as you bobbed up his shaft until he couldn’t stand it anymore. 

His palm pressed against the back of your head, forcing your head down his length until the head of his cock pressed tightly against the back of your throat. You gagged on him, throat spasming around his length as you fought for breath. He let your head up so that you could gasp a breath, sputtering and coughing before he shoved your head back down again. 

As soon as he let you up again, you started crawling around him. Before he had a chance to think more about getting his clothes off, you were in his lap. With knees on either side of his hips, you kissed at where his neck peeked out from his open collar. 

“What are you-?” Vox’s voice was choked off as you sank down on his cock, sighing at the way his larger size stretched you in a way your little dildo didn’t.

You shifted your hips as you sank lower and lower, all but purring into him as your weight settled into his lap. Your hips rocked, rising and falling ever so slightly as you let your body adjust to the significant increase in size from your little dildo, letting him stroke every spot deep inside you. 

“Please,” your lips moved against the soft column of his neck, tongue tracing the line between his dark blue skin and the collar of his shirt. “Need you, Vox. Need you so bad.” 

“You have me, doll.” Vox’s hands grip your hips as his voice distorts, static snow covering his screen for a moment. “Fuck, you have me.” 

You rose up off his cock until only his head was kissing your entrance. After a moment, you sank again, slowly. You bounced as his hips and thighs made contact with you again. Each time you repeated this process, you did it a little faster.

You were fucking yourself with him just as you had fucked yourself with the little pink dildo. Each time his cock filled you, it was so much more satisfying than anything you had been able to achieve yourself. 

Bouncing on him, you panted and gasped. Vox’s screen bathed your face and chest in a soft blue light as he sat, gripping your hips and watching you. His attention was divided, split between watching your cunt swallow his cock, staining his pants with your slick and the way your breasts bounced with every thrust. 

His audio input was flooded with the sound of your sopping core squelching around his cock and your panting breath, cries of his name on your tongue. He struggled to focus on you as the fans in the back of his screen kicked on. 

“Hold on,” his voice was garbled and his screen flashed bars and blue, “Babydoll-” 

Vox’s screen went blue, too bright as was his default setting. The message “Error 34.420 virus found: Came too fast, damn Babygirl” was written in bright white on the screen as his torso fell back, hitting the bed with a soft thud. 

You kept riding, working yourself on him as his cock twitched inside you, painting your walls with the seed that was so unique to him. In the dim light of your bedroom, if someone had been looking in on their private moment, they would see the slight glow from his cum around your opening, coating his shaft as you lifted yourself off of him and smearing it onto his pants as you let yourself slip back over his length. 

“Error 404 message not found cowgirl position too good,” Displayed on the screen. 

Hiding your face from the bright light in his shoulder, you whined as you continued to ride him. Vox was nothing if not able to please, remaining hard inside you even as his systems came back online. 

It wasn’t enough, nothing felt like it was enough. 

Grinding against him, you fucked yourself with him as his systems processed. Tears pricked at your eyes and as you struggled to find the right way to stimulate yourself on his cock to make the fire burning in you lessen and bring the orgasm you so badly wanted to surface. 

Something was wrong with you and you knew you needed Vox to fix it. He was the only man in all of Hell that could fix it. 

His face went dark for a moment before coming to life again with a bright spark that grew and extended across the screen. It pulsed with his heartbeat for a moment before fading to reveal his bright eyes blinking to life with a deep moan. 

His fingers twitched against your hips as he finished booting up and returning to life. Strong hands and hard claws gripped you, running up and down your back as you fucked yourself onto him. 

“Doll,” His voice was thick as his nails lightly scratched down your back. “You good?”

“I need-” 

“What do you need, Baby?” As more systems came online again, he began trusting up into your lazily. “Tell me what I can do for you?”

“I want to come.” You whimpered as his arms tightened around you. “I get so close but I can’t. Please. Please make me come.” 

He leaned up, shifting your weight back into his lap as he pulled your face from his shoulder with a fist in your hair. You bumped your head on the corner of his screen but you hardly noticed the pain. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last time you too a blow from his sharp edges. 

Vox kissed you deeply, static lips parting yours as he drank up your moans. He maneuvered you as if you weighed nothing, lifting you and placing your back on the bed. Your hand traveled down your body, fingers caressing your clit as you watched him lean back to admire the view. Arching, you writhed under his eyes, gasping as you fingered your sloppy hole, not giving a thought to the slightly glowing cum spreading on your fingers.

“Please, Vox. It’s so much- so much better with you inside me. It hurts less. Please, I need you back inside. Vox.” 

Clumsily, he kicked out of his pants. He shrugged his shirt off next as he covered your body with his. He wrapped your legs around his waist, mouth leaving electric kisses along your breasts as he lined himself up again.

“I’m right here, Doll. I’ve got you.”

He slipped in easily, spreading your walls around him. He groaned as he sank until his balls were flush with you. Your arms wrapped around him, clinging to him. Nails dug into his thick blue skin. 

He wasted no time, beginning to thrust into you immediately, slowly at first but becoming quicker as you urged him on. You begged, pleaded as his pubic bone brushed against your clit with each thrust. 

Vox grabbed your hip with a hand, grip so strong his claws indented your skin. You only whined, ignoring the very real risk that his sharp claws would puncture your skin, placing all your trust in him to not hurt you. 

He hiked your hips up, snaking his hand under your lower back to do so, changing the angle of your body. This new angle forced the head of his cock to push and drag harshly against the front of your walls, bulging slightly against your abdomen. Harshly, be bullied the spot inside you that he knew would reliably have you seeing stars. 

He was not disappointed in the slightest with your reaction. Your mewls and gasps only encouraged him to continue, hitting that spot faster, harder. 

Leaning back, he pulled your hips up higher. You were spread out on the bed, hands gripping his strong forearms at times only to flop down to the bed when he would hit your core just right. 

“Vox,” his name was a prayer you couldn’t stop saying, “Please. So good, you make me feel so good. Want to cum so bad. Want to- need to.” 

“I’ve got you.” 

Vox’s claws dug into your skin, holding your hips tightly, allowing him to hold your hips and core suspended in the air as he rose on his knees, thrusting into you harshly. Your upper back and shoulders rested comfortably on the bed as you looked up at him through lust glazed eyes. 

Parted lips gasped his name as he gave you what you wanted. Your breasts shifted with every violent thrust into you. Your toes curled and fingers twisted into the blankets. The dim blue light of his screen reflected off your skin, highlighting every curve, including the ever so slight bulge as his cock continued to push out against you with each thrust. 

Vox’s hands were one of your favorite features. They were strong and powerful, yet capable of such sweet and gentle touches. There was another thing they were capable of. His claw rubbed against your clit, your lower back supported by his hand splayed under you. 

“Want to feel you cum, Babydoll.” Vox panted, fans whirling as he maintained his body temperature. 

Warmth spread over his fingertip before it shifted, static tingling over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Every thrust into you was paired with a rise in the static tingling against your clit. 

“Please,” tears rand own the sides of your face as you felt the way your slick dripped down your body, running up your back. Never had you been so wet. Never had you been so needy. Never had Vox gone more than one round with you but if you could think straight, you’d be thankful to know he could.

“Going to make you come undone,” Vox promised, smile and eyes both wide as he took in the fucked out state you were in. He didn’t know what had you so worked up or why, but he knew it was just for him. You were just for him. 

“Going to make you see stars. Going to make you- fffuck.” He groaned as your walls began to flutter and tighten around him. You were so close now. “Fuck baby, you feel so good. Fucking made for me. So needy, so fucking hot just for me. Just for me.”

You grabbed at your breast with a hand, pinching your nipple as he pulled your hips higher. He loomed over you, filthy words falling from his lips even as he looked down at you with love clear in his eyes. 

Reaching out for him, you ran your other hand along his chest as he folded closer to you. His heart thrummed under your fingers until your arm was too weak to support itself. Your hand flopped to the mattress above your head, spreading yourself across the bed just a little more as Vox watched you say his name as if it was the most important thing in the world. 

“Cum for me,” he begged. “Come on Babygirl. Want to feel you cum on my cock. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking cum like only I can make you.”

The static spread from your clit as he spike, dancing over your body in powerful little blue arcs of power, leaving the most pleasant zaps in their path. Each little zap stole your breath. Soon they concentrated on every place Vox knew you loved most. 

They tingled and zapped your nipples. Electric power danced over your throat, making muscles twitch as you failed to control your breathing. 

So close now.

The electricity ran over her legs and across her abdomen, tightening every muscle against her control. Blue sparks lit up the space between your bodies in little blue flashes as it played over your clit, Vox’s hand no longer needing to make contact with it to keep it stimulated. 

“Fffffuck,” His screen was glitching now, bars shooting across the surface and distorting his face as you clenched tightly down on his cock. 

Your back arched and twitched, fingers gripping whatever they could reach as your body convulsed around him. Each contraction of your cunt had him moaning, voice glitching as much as his screen as he fought to stay present and ride out your much sought after orgasm.

You screamed his name as the twisting pressure crested and white hot pleasure burned every nerve ending in your body as it snapped. Vox fell forward, holding your hips tightly as he fucked you through it. 

“So good,” He praised in that garbled voice that told you how close he really was again, “Such a good fucking doll. Fucking came so hard for me. Feel so good. Squeezing me so good. So good.”

He fell to his side, pulling you onto your side as your body continued to flinch and clench with every ounce of stimulation he gave you. His screen was glitching more as your begging shifted into words of praise and thanks, basking in the sweet relief and aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Babygirl,” Vox said, “Doll, I’m- I’m going to- going to cum agai-” 

His screen went blue as you felt his cock twitch with the force of his second orgasm. More cum painted your insides as fans ran at high speeds. Fingers gripped you, holding you close enough to feel his thundering heart under his dark skin while his hips rocked against you. 

“Error Code 34 Message not found. Please reboot.” Displayed on his too bright screen when you glanced up at your lover as he stilled, finally feeling spent and at peace. “Orgasm over ride. System Vox.exe has stopped working due to overuse. Vox.exe Unresponsive. Please reboot.” 

You fell asleep to the soft sounds of your boyfriend, the powerful tech overlord rebooting slowly with you tucked into his arms and under the hard edge of his screen.

~~~~~<3

Vox blinked the sleep from his eyes as he leaned over the coffee machine, willing the pot to fill faster. He was tired, his muscles were sore and he didn’t get nearly enough sleep but it was worth it. 

Whatever the hell had gotten you in that mood last night, he needed to figure it out and repeat it. He had woken after just four hours of sleep and sacrificed his early morning work in favor of scrolling through your history. 

Was it invasive? Probably. He wasn’t known for respecting privacy. It couldn’t have been something he did, he hadn’t been around. While he clutched the first cup of coffee from the second pot, he again went over what you’d been watching and found nothing that would have made you so desperate for him. 

He found nothing in your message history either, with him or anyone else. There was nothing in your reading history, your internet tabs. Nothing. 

There was equally no trace of whoever had sent you the flowers he was currently fondling. He found no record of you purchasing the flowers for yourself so someone had to have sent them. 

He was just getting ready to dig into finding out who when the buzzer on the door rang. 

Opening the door, he almost dropped his mug at who was on the other side of the door. “Val?” 

“Vox?” 

“What are you doing here?” They asked in unison, both demons not really used to interacting with the other in the early morning hours. Wide eyes blinked nakedly, both sets exhausted. 

Vox hadn’t seen Valentino awake before noon unless he just hadn’t gone to sleep yet and even that was a rarity after five.

Valentino hadn’t expected to find Vox casually dressed on one of the lower, cheaper floors of the tower. 

Vox crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe and drinking casually from the black mug in his hand. He crossed his ankles as he narrowed his eyes, “It’s my girlfriend’s unit. Why are you here?”

Val’s big bug eyes blinked at Vox, processing the information slowly. “My… My flowers were delivered to the wrong floor.” 

Vox relaxed instantly, easy smile returning to his face as he disappeared inside. He reappeared with the flowers in hand. “I wondered where they came from.” 

“Right,” Valentino looked from the flowers Vox deposited in one of his sets of hands and back to his partner. “And you’re… feeling okay?” 

“Sore,” Vox laughed, “Been a long night if you know what I mean.”

“Right.” Valentino blinked again, “Right.” 

“Been busy,” Vox nodded, “She was feeling a bit extra needy.” 

“I’m sure she was.” Valentino said, looking down at the flowers again. “Was there a cover for the blooms?” 

“Not that I saw,” Vox shrugged. 

“Vox?” You called from in the room, his too big button down draped over your frame as you made your way over to him, sleepily wrapping your arms around his chest as you pressed your front against his back. “Is everything alright?” 

“Just some business,” He answered before looking back at Valentino. “This stays under wraps.”

“Right,” Valentino said again as Vox shut he door in his face, leaving Valentino alone to figure out how to get through the tower and back to his studio with uncovered sex flowers. He had to find a way without having half the employees dropping their pants and starting an orgy before the cafeteria had even ended breakfast service. 

Valentino looked down at the flowers, enjoying the way their pollen made his spine tingle. His power mingled with them to keep him under his own control but he hadn’t expected to find Vox unaffected but it sounded like his girl was. 

For a moment, Valentino lingered at the door, considering telling Vox before changing his mind. It wasn’t his business. 

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

DoubleTrouble No. 2 - Missionary Impossible

Yes, we did Team up again - the wonderful @macabr3-barbi3 and my humble self wrote another DoubleTrouble fic, based of a hilarious FranticFanfic game result (If you are a writer and have some friends who also indulge in fanfiction, check the game out: www.franaticfanfic.com - Your throat will hate you but the laughter makes it worth it!)

This time we give all of you Vox Lovers a real Treat! Mine is the Readers POV, while Barbie provided Vox's POV - get the TV's dirty version right here.

And now, without further ado:

Explicit Sexual content - Minors DNI - 18+ - 6.5k words

You had to admit: Breaking into Lucifer’s personal vault was your boldest and most impressive job yet. You had your concerns - normally you didn’t take jobs that seemed too shady or downright wrong to you - but you didn’t steal anything powerful, just a bottle of his vanished wife’s perfume. You shake your head at the memory. Most certainly one of her many, still very active superfans, kind of icky to be honest. But money talks, and boy did that client talk.

The only downside had been that for the first time, the 666 Evening News had a picture of you.

Granted, blurry, obstructed and absolutely not usable at all - but it still irked you to no end. They didn’t call you the ‘Traceless Thief’ for nothing.

But even though no one was more the wiser about your identity, even though Lucifer begrudgingly stopped looking for witnesses, even though the gossip on the streets about speculations who the Traceless Thief could’ve been died down - ever since that night, you felt like you were being watched.

The next jobs you take go without news coverage and media attention, and yet, you grow more and more paranoid. Hell has many eyes - figuratively and literally - and you feel them all on you. But there is work to be done and a living to be earned - and the tiny alibi antique bookshop you keep definitely doesn’t provide. No one sane wants old shit in hell - and the rare specimens that do and visit the dingy little space under your apartment come and go, disappointed in the stock you barely keep.

Which is fine by you - you only really need it for one thing. The PO Box.

The wonderfully boring, uninteresting PO Box of the ‘Dusty Pages’ bookshop was your portal to the real money. Hell had become a lot better the day you mastered the powers the underworld granted you: No physical barrier could contain you. Being intangible granted you freedom, and to return to the profession you were best in: Stealing Shit.

Of course, noble causes like overturning corrupt governments by breaking into officials homes and publishing their many crimes was still stealing, if you ask heaven that is, and it landed you in hell. You gave up being salty about it, and made the best out of the situation.

“Hey Frankie. How’s the wife?” The post office clerk, a grumpy looking crocodile in an ill-fitting checkered suit huffs.

“Still fucking annoying, as always. Each day I’m getting closer to bribing an exterminator to kill the bitch just to shut her up for good.”

You chuckled, leaning on the counter and tapping your fingers on the scratched wood.

“Aw, did you burn the meatloaf again? You know Alice hates that.” Frankie gives you an exasperated look, which you meet with a mocking grin.

“You want something? Except for getting on my nerves?”

You shrug, twirling a tiny key on a string around your finger. Frankie, and by proxy Alice too, were parts of your harmless, boring, inconspicuous appearance. Just a normal young sinner, just a normal errand to run, keeping normal small talk with the clerks.

“Just checking my PO Box. I’m waiting on a few rare books I ordered to restock.”

“Uh-huh. Tell someone who gives a shit.”

The crocodile turns away, adjusting his small, round reading glasses and eager to ignore you. Perfect.

“Always nice to chat with you, Frankie.” you say and saunter over to the little door with the number 13. The quiet click always sounds satisfyingly like a little exclamation of joy and like cashflow, and under the ‘Old Crap & Thingamajigs’ catalog you found what you were hoping for. A thick envelope and a letter - new jetstream-bathtub, here you come.

God, why were the VoxTech maintenance uniforms so fucking skimpy?

You grumble silently, cursing yourself that you haven’t grabbed the male one. But that would’ve been suspicious, and you couldn’t afford to be suspicious today. Not if you want to get the job done and live to tell the tale. 

The Vee Tower is full of cameras, hundreds of tiny, red blinking lights next to crystal clear lenses, and dead spots were hard to find and a rare occasion. So, when you couldn’t shift through the walls, you had to look like you belonged. And apparently, a fucking laced, black mini-skirt and a top with puffy sleeves that looked more like a fetish bralette was what it took to ‘belong’. The whole point was blending in, not being remembered - and all the female employees from cleanup and maintenance looked the exact same as you. So, unless one was walking around with a bag full of personnel files on hand, you looked like anyone else on this floor.

You stepped into the elevator, the keycard your client had sent you along with the money and initial job offer in hand. Wherever that person got those precious credentials, you were grateful for them because it gave you an easy way to bypass all the layers of security that VoxTech imposed. All that hassle for an incriminating photo.

You sighed when you pressed the button to floor 66, where the CEO of VoxTech enterprises had his private apartment. Vox.

The name was even more intimidating than Lucifer's to you. While the king of hell was aloof, inactive, disinterested in the ongoings of hell, Vox was the absolute opposite. He knew every little secret. VoxTech had millions of eyes and ears. It was a well known fact that he kept his all-seeing spycams on the whole pentagram and his pliant audience in his steely grasp. Always on top of the times, on top of the news, on top of the sales and on top of any business, shady or not, in hell. In the eyes of the citizens of the Pride Ring, Vox and his partners Valentino and Vevette owned practically everything. He had the largest audience in the history of hell, the sharpest wit and the keenest, calculating eye on the prize - a charming manipulator that was considered very much dangerous and not to be underestimated. Which is why you had to plan your gig for a time you were certain he wasn't around.

A shame really - you couldn’t deny, despite his ruthlessness and questionable business practices with which he had built his empire, you kind of admired the self-made TV-demon that rose to overlord status and made quite a big name for himself in stellar time. That, and he was nice to look at too, even with a flatscreen for a head. Oh well.

The ding of the elevator brought you back to the job at hand, and with confident steps, you glanced up and down the corridor. There were a few cameras pointed to the apartment door, but you found a dead spot not far off, and with a content smile, you walked over as if to inspect the carpet, just to shift as you were out of the camera's angle, your body transpiring through the wall, and with a quiet thud, you were inside.

That was the moment the lights went out.

A power outage was the last thing you had expected - in the Vee Tower of all places. The one place in hell that burst with electricity, and you would laugh at the irony if you weren't so tense. The timing is suspicious,and with a beating heart you shuffle forward, trying to phase through the nearest wall.

What the fuck?

You furrow your brows and huff, irritated. The wall is - well, a wall, and while that was a normal state for others, for you? Unimaginable. Your hands are resting against the concrete and steel, normally easy peasy to walk through. But you feel the hardness under your fingertips, much more intense than it should and almost stinging.

Conventional route it is, then, you think begrudgingly and slowly make your way through the corridor, listening into the stillness of the apartment. The corridor led into a spacious living room - flat, modern couches that screamed money and luxury arranged in a half circle, surrounded by various screens, all turned off. In the middle you see the outlines of a metallic, lavish coffee table, empty and clean like in a catalog. It was the kind of space that wasn’t really meant to be lived in, but to show just how much you had that you didn’t really need. A show.

You scanned the room. There was an open arch leading into a kitchen - also polished and top notch empty, not the cluttered mess you had in your apartment - and a closed, narrow door, likely a storage room. But at the opposite end of it, you see a faint, blue stripe of light, teal blue, luring you towards it. A night light maybe, or some indirect mood lighting shit that was all the rage since LED’s hit the Pentagram a few years ago, shining through a cracked door. Intentionally inconspicuous, your brain whispers, but anything was better than the dim darkness you were stumbling in now. 

When you reach the glowing gap and peek cautiously into the adjacent room, one hand almost on the handle, a groan makes you freeze before you could register what you are looking at.

Oh satan.

Vox.

A LOT of Vox.

The overlord was fucking home, and not just that. In his bedroom - your target location - naked, an impressive and glowing cock in hand, working himself in a way he would definitely not appreciate anyone seeing him in. You felt your neck and cheeks flush with heat - another thing you did not expect nor calculate for. But you can’t look away - as surreal and absolutely dangerous this situation is - his deliciously large hands and the sheer sight of his luminous length glistening with precum as he strokes himself cuts your breath short with highly inappropriate lust. The screen in front of him was bright, and for a moment, you were so enraptured with him that you didn’t recognize the silhouette he was pumping himself to.

You.

It’s you.

In this ridiculous maid costume that was unconsciously riding up your ass, sneaking through the corridor, not even half a minute ago. With growing horror you watch yourself taking tentative steps through the living room, the you on the screen hesitating before deciding to move to the left, one arm reaching out to a cracked open door.

“Fuck, yes.”

The words were barely said when your brain kickstarts.

Fuck, no.

He knew. He knew you were here.

In a flight of panic, you bolted for the corridor, back to the door, back to the safety of not-fucking-here, but you couldn’t even make four steps before your wrists were bound by cables shooting out of the walls surrounding you. You ready yourself to slip through them, but again, your powers leave you high and dry again. Helpless, you back away into the nearest wall, and the door opens fully, with the TV demon standing in the frame. Tall, intimidating even butt-fucking-naked, and a cocky smile on his HD face.

“Hello, my dear,” he almost coos and takes a few steps towards you as you writhe in the restrictions, desperately trying to slip out and get the fuck away. “I’m so glad you got my invitation!”

“Invitation?” That makes you still against the cables, your eyes darting over his face, confused. What the hell does that mean? You weren’t invited, you had a job to... Oh. Oh shit.

“You’re the client?”

His face was answer enough, and you would have slapped yourself for your stupidity if he hadn't had you in an iron grip. A loud game-show ding startles you back into the here and now, he was so much closer than before…

“Sure thing, doll! How else was I supposed to catch a slippery little thing like you without scaring you off?”

He traces his fingers down your cheek, his tips sparking with static electricity. How fucked up are you that this turns you on? Not being able to suppress the need to glance at his still shining and ripped cock again, you swallow hard. Where is your sense of self-preservation? Apparently left outside of this apartment, along with your usual foresight and dignity.

Cables wrap around your thighs and with a yelp you feel yourself getting lifted, legs parted by the wires. You almost topple over but are caught by his hands on your arms and faced with a smirk when you press your back into the wall, stabilizing yourself with a reddened face.

“Those didn’t come with the uniform,” He has the audacity to wink at you, nudging to the black lace panties you wear - excuse a girl for not wearing granny panties in the workplace - and you want to retort something snarky to him, when he looks at you that way. 

Within a moment, you realize two things.

Firstly, with the way he was roaming your body, his eyes lingering not only on your face, but your tits and the flimsy underwear concealing your very obvious wet arousal - you were fucked one way or the other. Which should’ve terrified you. Emphasis on ‘should’.

Because the other thing was, that even though he had bound you, even though you were at the mercy of this powerful sinner who tricked and trapped you here, rendering your power useless with whatever-the-fuck… he didn’t seem malicious, but rather… curious? Fascinated? Playful? You can’t really pinpoint it, but something tells you that - if you play your cards right - you might get more out of this make-pretend job than a jetstream-bathtub and hopefully all your limbs intact. And most importantly - you have nothing to lose.

“They're from my personal collection - lucky coincidence that they match the overall vibe of your staff's... uniform." It takes a lot to steady your voice as you talk, with the way his clawed hands run along the insides of your legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

He cocks his brow, as if he's pleasantly surprised, and licks his lips before he answers, his voice sultry and dripping of sexual tension.

"Mh... Luck favors the prepared, I always say. Oh, and speaking of slippery and prepared, sweetheart..."

You gasp as you feel the soft fabric being pushed aside and long fingers running lightly through your drenched folds. Fuck, you can already tell just how skilled those fingers must be. How great they'd feel deep inside you. Involuntarily, you buck your hips to guide them to where you wanted them most - onto your clit and burrowed to his knuckles - the desperation just dripping from you as he chuckles and lets his thumb glide over the throbbing pearl teasingly teasingly as he pushes one of his digits in. Your head rolls against the wall behind you with a needy moan escaping your lips and you have to bite them to stay focussed for what you were about to do.

"What a sight. You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment, doll, seeing you all desperate and fucking..."

The rest of his sentence died in his throat, replaced by a low, long and stuttering moan. Half shocked, half aroused, he looked down to his throbbing cock, then his head snapped up to you, grinning down on him. You moved your hips again, grinding down on his unmoving fingers, frozen in place at his confusion, confirming your suspicion that he didn't know about your other power. Not as strong as your intangibility, sure, but strong enough for him to feel - and see - the ghostly hand you envisioned around his dick, continuing what he started, pumping him in leisurely, slow strokes. 

"Didn't know about that move, doll." His hand comes alive again, and even though his voice glitches a bit he adds another one, much more tenderly and almost softly, properly prepping you. And judging by the circumference of the cock you feel through your spectral hand, it was more than precaution, but nothing less than a mercy. Mercy you were ready to beg for, given his thumb would continue the delicious circles it drew, just the right pressure, just the right pace to push you near the edge without tipping you over it.

"You're just a whole mystery, huh?"

Now fairly certain your head wouldn't roll at the end of this encounter, you let your last reservations slide. It has been too long since you were in the hands of a skilled lover, one that didn't disappoint, that didn't come too soon or drilled amateurishly into you in search for the g-spot they never found. This one knew what he was doing, finally, and by satan you wouldn't waste this opportunity. Make it a night to remember, and who knows? If you fuck his brains out, maybe he'd be knocked out long enough after for you to make a quick and easy exit. You imagined the spectre hand to twist, its thumb mapping the soft ridges around the crown. That seems to do the trick for Vox, and the look he shoots you deeply satisfies. "Fuck me, that's good."

Playing into this sentiment, you didn’t stifle the moans his damn fingers stroke out of you, the way they glide in and out, pressure on all the right marks without fail is too good to hold back. Your skin felt on fire, even without him touching anything but your pussy, and you felt no energy left to care that your clothes - if you would call them that - seemed to fall apart on your body, skirt pushed up to your waist, top loose around your shoulders and almost down enough to let your boobs fall out. You must look a mess, but then again the overlord didn’t seem to mind - quite the contrary. He looked outright hungry, eyes glitching occasionally with a particular squeeze of your hand or a poignant lustful moan from your lips.

“Do you have to concentrate to do that?”

“A little.”

His fingers hitting that one sweet spot inside you, cutting any other, more elaborate explanation short. Fucking hell, that you had to get tricked and trapped by an overlord to find a man that doesn’t think ‘foreplay’ is the interview before a soccer game was a fucking travesty. Grateful for that fact you withdraw from your own pleasure and decided to reward him, regaining your concentration enough to imagine a second hand to pay attention to the firm, very plump balls of his, rolling them in its palm and giving them a gentle, tentative squeeze.

“Cool party trick though, isn’t it?”

As if you challenged him, there’s a subtle change in his demeanor - his eyes more inquisitive, his fingers more eager and fervent, and a third one joined the others, stretching you oh-so-deliciously. For a moment you think you’d lose control, the ghost hands flickering before you got a grip on them again, determined to not tip the scales so soon. But you had to admit - it was tempting, to give into this implied command: Submit, let me take care of you, let me fuck you dumb.  

Little did he know, you were all about equality - or nothing at all. And if he was allowed to plow you with three fingers, surely he couldn’t protest against a third hand.

You weren’t sure how you’d manage it… the power was new, still waiting to be mastered, but you willed a third hand into reality, joining the one on his balls, softly working their way down and massaging his perineum. It strained you to no end, operating the conjured hands while Vox was adamant to make you cum on his fingers alone, but with how the cables shook and loosened around you, you were fairly certain it was enough to show him you meant business, your message clear: If anything, baby, we will fuck each other dumb. 

You watch with almost painful arousal how his screen flashes from the three-way-stimulation, his teeth slightly baring from the sensation but without losing his cocky smirk, as if to show his resilience.

"You'd be the life of any party I know, sugar, if you can pull shit like this out your sleeve."

With a wince from you, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you gaping, empty and fucking whining at the loss, eyes sharp and with a dangerous glint in them. "But you're not the only one with a few secret talents."

He kneels down then, opens his mouth, and you can't believe your eyes as a thick, long, very analog blue tongue unfolds and licks his lips hungrily and almost impatiently. A hand around each thigh spreading you almost impossibly wide, the hot breath feels chilling against your slick opening, and a brush of the tip of his tongue on your swollen clit makes your toes curl and your muscles tense with expectation. Your gaze, locked with his, breaks only when your head throws back and you moan out his name as he truly begins to eat you out. 

No teasing or games, no building up the tension - it's unmerciful, frenetic, his tongue alternately flickering on your clit with its pointed tip and pushing deep into your core with an almost unbearable thickness until there was no space left to be filled, tasting every little centimeter inside. Instinctively, your real hands twitch in their restraints, wanting to reach out, grab his head, the frame of his screen, fucking anything really just to have something of him to hold onto and push. Your hips can't hold still, but he made sure not to lose an inch as his hands gripped your ass down and into him as if he heard your thoughts, drawing you deeper into his maw as he devours you. Your spirit hands fade in and out, your mind unable to keep them steadily corporeal - he was too good, his tongue was too good, not once did his rhythm falter nor the damn thing slow down, giving you no chance to collect yourself.

Finally - oh god finally - his cables loosened enough for you to dart your hands towards him, finding a saving anchor on his arms. You literally felt like you were drowning - wet and out of breath, senses fogged by that wonderfully violent tongue swiping and licking and prodding and fucking pulsing. When he hummed into your cunt, all dams broke, and you could only stutter “fuck, cumming - oh my God-” before you snapped and you fell into the depths of your orgasm.

Whatever prick, mouth or fingers you had on and in you before - this erased them all. Never before felt your head so light, your cunt so heavy and hell so divine.

His relentless licks make you mewl with every stroke as he rides you through your high, but he just doesn’t stop. Greedy, rawing your abused cunt to a point where moans turn into almost pained whimpers and your body twitches and squirms, begging for him to relent.

Mercifully he understands, and when he stands up, you only passingly realize with a pang of bad conscience that your spectre limbs have dissipated somewhere along the line, leaving him high and dry - only metaphorically, because his cock was soaked in leaking cum.

He hooks your legs over his arm, his other snaking around your waist to lift you from the wall, and you made no motion to resist it, being that the prospect of his soft sheets on his bed were much more preferable than color-coated concrete on your back. The short walk over feels like the eye of the storm - a short illusion of a safe space, and you use it to assess the damage.

For one - the ‘clothes’ you wore were useless now, they did nothing clothes were supposed to do - The sleeves were half-ripped from the bralette, hanging by a thread, and the top itself so far down your tits were fully out, nipples dark and flushed, while the skirt was nothing more than a drape at this point, hiding the mess on your thighs and reddened, puffed lips.

Then you look up through your lashes, up to the best lay you ever had, down below as well as up above. You should plan your escape, should use the time you had now to calculate what to do to get the fuck out while you could - Instead your horny little fucked-up brain was busy imagining how you could draw this out, make him so pussydrunk he’d send another decoy job weekly, just so you could return to that magic tongue again and again.

You were right. The sheets felt soft and obscenely expensive. You spread your fingers, the only real motion you were still able to make for now, taking his roaming gaze and the appreciative expression on his screen as a badge of honor. Your senses tingled, and you blinked one, two times, listening into your powers. The walls of his apartment were prepped by him to prevent you from leaving - electricity most likely, something intangible itself - but the ceiling and floors weren’t.

“Got another round in you, baby?”

You look up to him as he wraps your legs around his waist,lining himself up to you, tip ready and loaded. But he doesn’t push in. He waits, and you could cry as he does so.

Fucking hell, the ruthless media overlord half of hell fears to the point they piss themselves is waiting for your consent.

It’s this unexpected, contradictory duality that draws your lips into a smile. Trapping you in his territory, able to kill you with his goddamn pinkie, and yet the only thing he does is make you cum on his mouth and wait for a ‘yes’ to fuck you mindless - how could you not fall for that? Even more, how could you not test your luck with that?

With regained strength you reach for his dick, fingers wrapping firmly around his girthy base. His body follows your gentle guidance, and he lets himself glide into your ready heat with a groan that sends a shiver down your spine - such an earnest sound it makes you want to return the favor tenfold. And you just knew the way you could.

“You don’t need to worry about my stamina,” Voice like honey, you refocus your mind, visualizing the wicked idea that had entered your mind.

A soft hand. Long, flexible fingers, slick and smooth and ready. It formed as you thought it, stroking the cleft of his ass, halting at the tight ring of muscle it found, testing his reaction with a teasing, light press against his opening.

The reaction was priceless. Face glitching, hips jerking violently forward into you as its fingers pass his entrance and slide into him, coming to a halt at that one, very sensitive spot. His breath is ragged and eyes fucking wild, but the way he bends down, gripping your hands to entangle them with yours and pressing as much midnight-blue skin against yours tells you that he doesn’t exactly hate it.

“Worry about your own,” you whisper against the skin of his chest, grinning at the way he shudders at the sultry tone of your voice and the challenging eyes of yours, hilted in your pussy still, taking the ghostly fingers like a good boy.

“Whatever you did to your apartment, you only did it to the walls - the floor is fair game - ah fuck-”

He found some of his senses back, his thrust surprising your nerves with a sudden jolt of electricity - added by him or imagined by you, you can’t tell. He fills you so perfectly, as if molded just for you, big and hard and absolutely sublime, and when he brings his knees up more and bends you at the waist he manages to push in even deeper, pounding almost at your cervix with increasingly feverish, tough thrusts. Again, he wanted to break your concentration, but this time, you were prepared. You let your body do what you trained it to do - it goes hazy, misty, almost translucent in a blue-ish hue, revealing the vision of his buried prick deep inside you, teal glow in navy mist, before you solidify again and find the strength to grin up at him.

“If you cum before I do, I’m out of here.”

There was a wicked glint on that screen of his, and he upped the pace of his snapping hips, pressing you deeper into the mattress.

"Guess you'll have to move in then, baby." His voice sounds almost distorted, his body starts to spark with fizzing bolts of electric energy, and when he grips the headboard with one hand to gain more momentum to fuck even faster and stronger into you, you almost want to take him up on that quip, convinced his apartment was equipped with more than just a boring jetstream hot tub.

Your spirit fingers stroke in a come-hither motion over his prostate, over and over, varying in pressure, intensity and speed, and each swipe makes him moan a little louder, driving his dick a little deeper into you. It's becoming a race towards a finish line none of you wanted to get to in the first place, a fight of wills and bodies, pushing you to your limits judging by the way your oversensitive pussy clenches, begging for release once more. But by Satan himself you did not intend to lose without a good fight, your fingers raking over his lithe back and the sharp edges of his body, lingering, scraping, writing wordless praises into his skin in red streaks.

“In fact, sweetheart,” he says as he pounds you and your pants become out even louder, “I’ll make you cum so hard you don’t want to leave - you’ll scream my name so loud they’ll hear you down in Wrath, know exactly where you’ll be living from now on.”

Vox, too, is close, you can see it, hear it, most importantly feel it. One hand remaining on the headboard, the other scoops you up by your neck, pulling you onto his face in a kiss so breathtaking and fierce you almost pass out. It's sloppy and lustful, it's lips against lips and tongue on tongue, and your ability to use either becomes redundant when you and him both simultaneously cry out, orgasms overlap and intertwine, you cunt clenching tightly around his pulsating length, sending spurt after spurt of hot cum into you as your own release drips onto the soaked sheets below. Your eyes roll back, the fingers buried inside his tightened ass vanish and your muscles relax. With his hand still on your neck, claws digging into your skin, he slowly brings you back onto the mattress to let you fall together with him.

Silence settles for a second. A brief moment of stillness and clarity, sweat cooling your skin, hearts slowing down and breathing returning to normalcy. You feel the aftermath of his touches everywhere. His marks litter you from top to bottom: Your wrists and thighs are covered in red streaks from the tightness of his cable bondage. Your whole skin tingles from the waves of his inherent electric current. But most telling of all was the pooling mess inside of you, already leaking.

You let yourself feel the weight of his body on yours - it's an intoxicating feeling, the heat radiating off his dark blue skin, and the subtle charge beneath, a hidden hum underneath your fingertips, telling of the immense power of an Overlord you just let fuck you senseless. Now would be the time to run - his screen was completely blue, turned off while he recovered his breath - if you wanted, you could disappear, and he wouldn't be able to stop you or track you down. But when you searched the depths of your mind and body for regret and the sense of danger it brought - there was none. Only satiated warmth, an afterglow you could bathe in, like a warm, healing balm, easing your aching bones and bruised skin.

And just in that moment of resolve, Vox’s screen returned to show his face, and he lifted his head slightly to look at you with eyes as bright and vivid as the neon signs lighting up the streets of the entertainment district outside his windows.

One Month Later

“Thanks babes, I was about to lose my shit when Velma and Kelly fucking quit on me. Bunch of pussies, those two, seriously.”

You shoot Velvette a smile over your shoulder, adjusting the last couple of details on six of her girls, ghostly blue hands hovering around them - clipping a collar here, buckling a shoe there. You pity the two foolish girls - the runway show had Velvette occupied tonight, but tomorrow - well, you were sure Vel was about to annihilate their sorry stylist asses for blowing her off last minute… and not just with a snarky post on Sinstagram.

“No problem, Vel, that’s what I’m here for.”

The small woman laughs sarcastically, but not in the usual mean way, but a playful one, a friendly one. That was one of the things you could pride yourself on - That Velvette, social media queen and judge of what’s hot and not, fell in love with you almost as fast and hard as Vox did.

“Darling, we both know that no one really knows what exactly Vox hired you for. What was the job description he pulled out of his flat ass again?” she raises a cocky brow, sipping obnoxiously on her iced coffee to go in her hands, holding out another, identical one for you. “Ah, yes, ‘ASS’.”

You take the drink from her, smiling mischievously back at her. When Vox came up with that title, he didn’t even notice the ambiguity of its abbreviation, and you let him stew over it for almost a day before you told him, silently convinced your fingers left a memorable impression. “It’s ‘Administrative Services Specialist', and what can I say? My resumee was very convincing.”

Velvette snorts into her vanilla foam. “Funny name for your cunt love, but you do you. Now shoo. Didn’t you and flatface have a date tonight?”

You wave her a quick goodbye, sipping up the cold drink in one gulp and throwing it into the trash as you bypass it, hurrying down the hall and plucking the private keycard from your back pocket. You scan it at the elevators, noticing the other employees backing away from you, and you couldn’t hide the grin that flashed your face. No one dared to ride in that elevator with you, a very badly kept secret that it sent you one way straight to Vox’s apartment, and every one of them would rather chew glass than be caught by whatever awaited the opening elevator doors.

And Vel was right - you had a date with Vox, a special one at that.

Barely three weeks ago you actually did move in - call it a whim of insanity, call it fate - and since that, your days were filled with a job in the Vee Tower that you actually liked (no one shed a tear at the ‘Dusty Pages’ closure notice) and the nights were spent naked, sweaty and blissfully explicit under, on top and any other possible way with Vox in his bed. You learned something new about yourself - with the right partner, you were almost insatiable. Another thing you learned was that Vox seemed to feel just the same. Lucky coincidences indeed.

But date night was something special. Giving up the alibi bookshop was easy enough - but you were adamant that you still wanted to do your other jobs.

Not because of the money - Vox provided generously, and wouldn’t take a cent from you (although you managed to convince him to let you buy him at least snacks and small gifts, an exception you abused to the absolute limit). No, you actually liked to sneak through the night, liked the thrill of moving in the shadows and shifting through secured buildings. Liked the excited arousal you felt after a completed heist.

To preserve your secret, you and Vox decided that you wouldn’t reveal your main power to the others at Vee Tower, the only other people who knew were Velvette and Valentino.

The latter wasn’t your biggest fan, and who could blame him, giving that you were living with  and fucking his ex-lover, but he had his own flings and things to take care of, and after a few occasions where you stepped in to help him out at shoots and with his scripts, he at least became cordial towards you.

But date night was where you went out to do a job, secured through Vox for one of his many business partners, and the pool of people the TV demon had on hands that needed or wanted something of value was a bottomless pit from which you could choose the ones you liked the best. And your digital lover not only organized your gigs - he became your eyes and ears, your literal partner in crime.

The doors open, and Vox stands waiting, leaning, in the doorway, arms crossed and a grin on his face.

“You’re late, doll.”

“I know I know, but Vel needed some helping hands - you know I can’t leave her hanging.”

“Oh, I saw.”, he chuckles, his screen switching from his face to images of you from the security cameras on Velvettes floor, close ups of your face, your tits and ass sprinkled in between. ”You know I can never see enough of you, gotta keep those cameras on.”

You scoffed, but did so with a smile before you kissed him and ran off into the closet, undressing quickly while he followed you, letting himself fall down on his bed and watching you intensely as you peeled your clothes from your body and slipped into your signature skintight suit. By the time you were changed his cock was hard, straining his pants which you acknowledged with an appreciative smile.

You both exchange longing looks, but time is ticking. You put the newest addition to your equipment in your ear - a tiny, wireless headset, directly connected to Vox, bend over the bed, your tongue running over the warm line of his lower lip and sigh as he groans with want.

“I know it’s usually payment upfront, baby, but we’re already behind schedule.”

You can’t seem to tear yourself from him with those big hands on your ass squeezing tightly and that goddamn tongue in your mouth, your mind half decided to tell your client to fuck off and fuck the demon in front of you senseless. But he gently pulls away, his eyes burning not only with need, but also with pride. A look you loved to see on him.

“And besides, you are so much more voracious after a job well done.”

He slaps your ass as you pass him, and you shift through the wall, now almost as eager to steal that stupid looking red duck from some dingy, rundown hotel as you were to return to his waiting cock to cash in your salary.

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

READ IT READ IT READ IT

Since @chefskjssart's artwork that I commissioned was such a BANGER, I felt like I needed to do something to show my gratitude. So, I messaged her and gave her free choice over a little One-Shot I'd gift her. And that's how we ended up here :D Where are my little TV Sluts at? You can thank Chef - and I hope you all have fun ;>

NSFW - Explicit Sexual Content - Minors DNI - 5.7k words

"Gotta say, Val, the revenue of your movies really skyrocketed this quarter, fuck me."

Vox flipped through the quarterly reports, eyebrows raised and a grin on his face while Valentino, very pleased with himself, lounged on the chaise next to Vox's desk, smoking.

"I told you I've made a good investment." He grinned and blew out a puff of smoke. "All the horny bitches out there are eating my movies up."

"It's more than that, you're even making headway into other rings, holy shit! We've even got a foot in the Lust Ring market, which is almost impossible with that kind of competition..."

Valentino hummed approvingly.

"And the best part: I didn't have to do much." He added and let the tip of his cigarette rest against his lips, his grin widening. "My newest author is a kinky little genius."

Vox turned his attention to the papers again, his smile slowly turning into a frown as he scanned the declining sales in Voyeurscopes.

"What are you talking about? All of your authors write pretty much the same shit, what could be so special about-"

Valentino laughed and shook his head. "That one is - believe me, carino. Poor bitch has the mind of a succubus on crack but she can't get off."

Vox looked up, an eyebrow raised in skeptic questioning.

"Can't get off?"

"Can't feel anything. Can't cum for the life of her." He replied, leaning back and spreading his arms. "Numb like a fucking dead fish."

"Or maybe she just hasn't found a good dick." Vox mumbled, returning back to the reports, skimming over the numbers.

"Mh, you be the judge amorcito. Because I tried." Valentino growled, taking a drag from his cigarette. 

Now that got Vox's full attention. The TV demon stared at his partner for a few seconds of silence, then laughed maniacally, almost falling off his chair while Val rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Fucking weird little thing, she is. She can write the craziest shit, the hornier the better. Writes like a damn porn beast, but has no clue what good sex actually feels like."

Vox heaved, wiping his screen as if in tears.

"Ohoho, Christ on a Cracker Val, maybe you've been out of the business too long… are you maybe losing that golden touch?"

Valentino sneered. "Ay, and you think you would've been able to get that bitch to cum? Be my guest, I'll gladly watch you fail."

Vox grinned at the moth, his eyes dangerously teasing. The reports were long forgotten - this was too entertaining, and Vox loved to be challenged, because he loved the feeling of superiority he felt when he succeeded. And that feeling would be so much more satisfying when he'd beat his long time partner and porn prince of pride at his own expertise.

"Wanna up the ante? Make a little wager out of it?"

Valentino scoffed, then chuckled deviously. He took another drag from his long cigarette, his cerise teeth glistening with red saliva as he began to drool in anticipation.

"You know I like to play, Voxxy. Especially if the odds are so much in my favor."

Another script done.

Your best one yet, if anyone asked you. But you knew no one asked ever, so why bother?

You stood up from your desk in your private office - being Val's favorite pen pet had it's perks afterall.

You skipped the stage of employment where you'd be cramped in one of these horrible cubicles together with the other overworked, caffeinated and tired writers, typing another outdated secretary-fuck-fest-plot while the other employees complained about their last bad lay and the shitty pay.

At least you didn't have to deal with any of that. Your room was quiet and peaceful, the door able to be locked shut and the walls soundproof. No distractions, no chit chat, no loud coworkers or malfunctioning printer noises. Just the humming sound of your computer, and the whirring of the A/C Val had granted you - a luxury that most of your colleagues bitched about behind your back.

You stretched, your tired bones popping into place and you sighed. You were done for the day. Finally.

With the deadline looming over you, you had been a bit late with the last part, and the thought of being late with your work made you sick. But Val pressed for another banger (pun intended) like your last one, 'Dante's Infern-Hoe' and you didn't want to risk the benefits you were offered so temptingly by being sloppy.

But the script for 'The Devil wears Nada' sat now, freshly printed, next to your laptop, the file saved locally and in the cloud, with about an hour to spare still. You smiled, content and relieved. An hour of paid slacking off was nice, and you checked with a glance that the electric door still was set on LOCKED before you flopped down at the two-seater by the window, grabbing the remote from the small side table and turned on the TV.

A familiar voice spoke through the speakers, and you relaxed into the pillows with a small sigh, eyes closed.

As shitty as the program in Hell was, one thing it had going for it was Vox. That smooth, hypnotizing voice of the overlord that held pride's media empire in his claws was a delight to your ears, and even the mindless, overplayed commercial jingles were pleasant enough if he was the one narrating them.

For the millionth time, it seemed, your hand wandered under the hem of your pants, fingers rubbing lazily at your cunt, as you listened to him talk, advertising the latest angelic protection device that didn't do what he promised it to do.

It was insanity at this point, doing something over and over again expecting a different outcome. Every night your fingers were cold and wet with your slick and your clit bloody and raw while you felt nothing of even your most violent and feverish touches, trying for minutes to hours to experience a sensation you wrote daily about without the satisfaction of any remarkable buildup or release.

It was no use, you knew it was a fruitless attempt, just like all the others. The most you got out of your endless tries was a slight tingle one time where you were so desperate you fucked yourself with an electric rod on its highest setting, resulting in a power outage in your apartment and a big fat fine from your landlord a few days later.

Still, you craved it. Craved to one day feel at least something. After the disappointing One-Night-cannot-Stand-the-thought-of-it with your boss, the literal porn mogul you were ready to just give up. If the face of pride’s sexdrive couldn’t get you over the edge, was there any chance at all?

Valentino had been the last in a long line of desperate attempts, paartners ranging from incubi, paid whores, porn actors to even sexbots made by Asmodeus, costing you a pretty penny just for the hassle of trying to get through the return hotline to get your money back, explaining No, you don’t know how it was possible that the cock of the ‘Fuckboy 3.0 XXL’ broke into pieces after one time usage. 

You chuckled humorlessly at the memory - It was truly a pathetic time in your eternal existence, filled with you masturbating alone in bed like a sad porn star, yearning to experience sex like you wrote about in your scripts. Maybe this was hells way to punish you for your sins, your personal plan of torture - To never experience the very thing that possessed you on the daily.

The television droned on in the background, Vox advertising his latest technological developments; new features on your phone that you really could not care less about. Despite his unusual appearance, Vox was one of your absolute go-to Stand-in's for your plot protagonists. Charming, suave, depraved when called for and a dominating, thorough lover that took what he wanted, but with so much skill that his partner would cum threefold before he'd even begin to think about finishing. Cocky and yet sensual. Aftercare included. All the things your colleagues were too dumb to include, no wonder their scripts were a bust.

Yes, it was hell and therefore tastes were more... depraved than in the living world, but that didn't mean the populus secret wishes for some sort of common sexual decency was out the window, goddamn.

Your mind wandered away from your depressive ruminations, your hand never stopping its circular pattern around your swollen clit as your thoughts started to wander to its usual place, the only way that came close to what you longed for and what was the source for all of your best-selling porn scripts. Your boundless realm of fantasy.

'Come out, come out, wherever you are...'

Vox is standing in your doorway, his silhouette prominent against the bright white neon light coming from the corridor of the empty floor. His suit, neatly fitted to every curve of his slender body, is showing just how thin his waist really is, but that does not come even remotely close to describe his broad shoulders and firm, wide chest, contrasting it deliciously. His navy blue skin reflects the harsh lighting in the hallway, his screen sharp and clear, digital eyes never leaving you as he closes the door behind him, dipping the room you're in in darkness, the only source of light his brightly illuminated screen where his digital, mismatched eyes are solely fixated on you, hiding behind the long backrest of your couch.

'Found you, babydoll.' he says with that god forsaken sultry voice of his as he reaches for your throat, long fingers wrapping themselves around your neck as your breath hitches and he pulls you up from your crouched position, his long tongue running over your collarbones, the wet trails feeling as cold on your skin as his appendage feels hot. 'Now remember what I said? Ready or not...'

He presses you into a wall, his big, hard erection rubbing teasingly through the layers of fabric on your already wet core as you whimper with want. '... here I cum.'

You moan his name, the imagined feeling so painfully surreal, and you wished once more that your working fingers would elicit some sort of real, bodily response.

A cough makes you freeze in your movements. Your fantasy shatters like a mirror shot with a bullet and your eyes fly open, expecting to see maybe a dumb segment of a rerun of 'Vox2Nite'. Instead, you see the actual, real TV demon overlord, standing live and in color just a few strides away with an expression that was a mixture of confusion, curiosity and slight annoyance.

"I'd ask if I am interrupting, but it seems you already had me on your mind, huh, doll?"

Realizing that you weren't - in fact - hallucinating, you immediately whipped your hand out from under your panties, sitting up, flustered like a child caught with their hands in the cookie jar. How did he get in? Did you forget to lock the door? No. Did he unlock it?! You must have missed his opening and closing of the door over the voice in your fantasy. The same voice that is now echoing in reality. Oh what a shameful ending for a perfectly good fantasy orgasm.

"Um... shit, sorry, Mr. Vox, sir. I was just, you know..." you scrambled, getting nervous under the actual gaze of him as he folded his arms, waiting for you to end that sentence with a pitiful smirk. Jesus Christ, those arms are slender and muscular…

"Thinking! Just thinking, making script... scenarios..."

"Uh-Huh. And how is that coming along?" He asked, seemingly unfazed by the display before him as he took a few steps towards you.

"Oh, uh, haha, I didn't really... finish..."

He stopped directly in front of you, shutting you up with a low chuckle and his hand around your wrist, the one attached to the hand that had been in between your folds just literal seconds ago, lifting them up to look at the still shimmering wet residue on your fingers with a sneer.

"Mhm. Yeah, I've heard you have some problems with that."

Now that was embarrassing as it was alarming, and you ripped your hand out of his grip. Or better, you tried to do so anyway. It was a pointless exercise, his hand had an iron-tight grasp around your wrist as he pulled you up with one swift motion, so fast you stumbled into him, face to chest, breath caught in your throat as you were made suddenly aware how huge he really was compared to you.

"W-wow, my kinda pathetic reputation precedes me it seems. That's..." just great is what you wanted to say, but all words failed you when he lifted the hand in his grasp to his face, his thick, long tongue slithering out of his mouth just to wrap itself around your digits, lapping up the sticky residue of your arousal, watching you as your pupils widen and you squirm in his grip, mortified and turned on at the same time.

"Eh. Not as pathetic as my business partner's failure to provide something he's built his reputation on, sweetheart. Unusually smart of him to get you under contract before you shout it from the rooftops." He hummed as he tasted you, sucking in the pads of your finger hungrily and without hesitation, and all you could think of, frozen stiff like a deer in headlights, was: What the fuck is happening?

"But Val never had the kind of mindset I have... I don't do failure... or better said: I always finish what I start." His low rasp vibrated in the air around him, echoing in your head, and the heat his voice had brought to your skin left your mind racing. You asked yourself panicking if you had written too many dumb porn plots or if he was really implicating what you thought he was implicating.

"So, whaddaya say, doll..." His breath tickled your cheek as he leaned in closer, pulling you flush against him, a soft grunt of content as his hard dick pressed into your soft belly, his mouth right next to your ear, one of his hands running teasingly down your sides as he licked your ear shell. "...care to see if I can end your unlucky streak?"

'Fuck, yeah.' You thought, and almost moaned out loud as you let your head fall back to make room for his waiting mouth, when suddenly you stopped in your tracks. His hands were already groping over you greedily, squeezing your ass, your thighs, your breasts as he looked down on you, surprised to see your conflicted face.

"W...Wait. What's in it... for you?"

"Mh, you're clever. That's a new one." Vox laughed, his hand running up to the side of your face to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing small circles on the corner of your lip. "Me and Val made a little bet, you see, and well... Let's just say: I want this to work out just as much as you do, since my success depends on yours."

"Oh.." So Val was talking about you, that bastard. He had you sign an NDA when he hired you, given that you had been unwilling to make a soul contract with him, but you guessed that that had been naively one-sided. Asshole.

Vox stroked your bottom lip, parting them before you opened them slightly on your own accord, his dark blue tongue languidly tracing the edges, waiting for your decision, coaxing you to decide in his favor. And even though you were kind of pissed at Valentino for running around telling people about your... situation - you couldn't deny it was tempting, turning fantasy into reality. And what was another overlord trying to do the impossible? Worst case - he'd try and fail, just as all the others did before, like the stupid moth pimp. At least you'd have some leverage for maybe another good deal for your silence on it. And in the highly unlikely best case…

With your decision made, you flicked your own tongue against his, humming at the unfamiliar taste and the sizzling static electricity on your tongue. Vox grinned, his sharp teeth pressing onto your lips, nipping at the sensitive flesh and growling with approval when your lips parted.

"Ohoho, baby, this is gonna be fun."

Vox ran his claws through your hair, loosening your already messy bun until your hair fell free with his playful pulls as he explored your mouth, deepening the kiss with every lick, until he could push his whole tongue into your mouth, moaning and grabbing the back of your head tightly as you let him fill you without the slightest hint of protest, fighting a desperate losing battle for air.

"Fuck, don't you need to... breathe?" you whispered after he finally pulled back, a wet trail connecting his tongue to yours, grinning down on you while your lungs burned for oxygen.

"Perks of being state of the art, sweetheart." he watched your swollen, drool covered lips - parted to catch your breath - for a few seconds longer before he inquisitively tilted his head. "Did you feel any of that?"

You contemplated lying, but figured honesty would probably be the best in this situation, shaking your head and giving him your most pitiful attempt at an apologetic smile, already bracing yourself for him to give up or get mad. "My lips tingle a little."

"Mh." He huffed as he pushed you back into the two-seater, your back hitting the cushions with a soft thump, and unceremoniously pulled on your very not-sexy-at-all sweatpants and slightly-more-sexy-but-not-quite panties until they slipped over your legs.

"How about this then?" He pressed his knee in between your legs to nudge them apart. "Can you feel any of this?" He spread your already wet slit open to run a cold claw over your hole, softly dipping first one, then two and lastly three of his fingers inside to stretch you further open and push it back in, repeating the movement slowly while keeping his eye contact trained on your face.

You hummed non-commitally, closing your eyes and pressing yourself into the cushions, trying to feel for any sensation that should come with every slow drag of his digits pumping inside of you, and not finding any of it was so fucking frustrating. You felt like you were not only disappointing yourself, but him, as stupid as that sounded. But with every added finger and still a lack of response, you saw the progression of frustrations in his face that you knew all too well - eyebrows furrowed, irritated twitches of the corners of his lips that turned into a snarl with the third added digit. You frowned, sighing and bit your lip - nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing, and fucking nothing again, just another wet hole, the clenching of your walls a habit and reflex only, no pleasure whatsoever.

"It's no fucking use..." you whined, pressing your hands to your face in frustration and fear of looking back into his eyes, "I can't feel anything at a-aaAAH...!"

Your back arched at this strange jolt running down your spine, forcing you to grind down on his hand as a strong electric current buzzed from his claw tips right through your cunt, curling in your stomach in a hot wave of wanton need and knocking the wind out of you. Your eyes flew open just in time to see the flash of victorious satisfaction on his screen before his face turned fuzzy as you began to tear up.

"There's some reaction. There we go, sweetheart." He cooed and curled his fingers in that deliciously sinful way again, making your breath catch in your throat. For the first time since you can remember, you FELT. You dropped your hands from your flushed, hot face onto the plush of the couch, fingers desperately digging into the fabric, and stared at Vox with wide eyes. He winked, nudging his head to his buried fingers, and with a shattering gasp you could see neon blue bolts of electric sparks traveling down his slender arm, crackling around the soft flesh inside of your pussy that had never felt so sensitive.

"How are y-aaaa.... aaa-AAah...." he silenced any questions you might have had or possible retort with another shock wave traveling through his hand as he dragged his fingers in and out in an agonizingly slow pace, it had your ears ringing with white noise and your eyes water with unknown, strange pleasure.

You were shaking, and though it should have frightened you a lot more than it did to be electrocuted while doing something that could be considered borderline treason to Valentino (And it still had your cunt dripping on a whim), but there was nothing left for you to think of other than the sharp shocks making every nerve inside of you buzz, your thighs already trembling in anticipation of the possibility of an unknown, but oh-so-wanted climax. Yet it was somehow still out of your reach, out of your range of senses.

"I feel like we are getting closer, babydoll." The TV demon chuckled darkly, his voice over amplified, the electrical buzz reverberating loudly in the soundless room. "How 'bout we kick it up a notch, huh?"

He pulled out his fingers in a quick, cruel movement, making your pussy clench around nothing as you already mourned the feeling. Before you had the time to voice your loss however, he had your thighs already in his hands, pushing them back to almost fold you in half and spread them apart as wide as he could get them without hurting you. With a smirk he stuck out his tongue, inhumanely long, thick on its base and pointed at the end - and let his electric energy visibly spark around it. Holy Shit.

The moment his head dipped down and his appendage swiped through your puffed, red folds, you could feel your insides buzz in sync to his delighted moan. He began eating you out feverously and obscenely, not holding anything back, just like you wrote your most popular protagonists to do - NO, this was so much better than anything you've ever written or fantasized about, his tongue twisting in patterns that felt like nothing you've ever even came close to imagine before. It was like he powered your whole nervous system, overriding every strand of nerve with his own electricity, amplifying any touch, any lick and any suction that would normally not even register a thousand-fold.

"O-Oh my g... F-fffuuuuhhh-ck.. meeee..." you moaned in confusion and amazement, your legs shaking helplessly on either side of Vox's rectangle head as he fucked his tongue into you, switching between the deep, long, thorough thrusts and fast, small, teasing flicks into the wet heat of your cunt, coating his screen in a shining mix of your natural juices and his blue neon saliva. He sucked at the protruding of your swollen bundle of nerves, your sensitive clit twitching under his attention - it was maddeningly unreal. You felt like a complete, utter sham - if this was sex, you've never written it anywhere correctly.

"I'm working on that, sweetheart."

Vox smirked against your pulsing core, humming with satisfaction at your wet, gaping slit begging for him to push back in and fill you up again, making you ache for his tongue deeper and deeper, forcing every shred of sense you had to leave your mind as you bucked into his grip in desperation, chasing another intense jolt he held just out of your reach as he laughed deviously at your hungry reaction to his teasing antics.

You didn't care how pathetic you looked, how undignified or desperate you sounded. This was nothing short of fucking fantastic, this all new, unknown sensation that you deemed impossible to ever experience and an real, tangible orgasm so close you could almost grab it. You felt a violent greed, you needed more of this, more more more, you needed to cum and you knew exactly that only Vox was able to do it - but you needed him inside of you, pushing you into oversensitivity, no matter what was required to get you over the edge. Fuck all dignity, that ship had sailed the moment your back hit the couch.

You shook your head vigorously, choking down sobs of grateful pleasure that racked your body with every curl of his tongue inside of you and a guttural moan, high pitched and broken.

"P-Please... ah, Pl..please..." you panted and Vox felt for your thighs to hold you steady. His claws sank in with such force into the soft meat of your legs he drew blood. "F... Fu..Fuck me.. please." you stammered and he smirked, a look of pure joy in his digital eyes as he stared you down.

"Oh, I will, baby." He smiled against your core, curling the tip of his tongue around your clit with just the right amount of pressure that your entire vision went blank with a broken cry and the strongest wave of static he'd managed to work you up to so far. "Don't worry about that, I'm not nearly done with you."

He fucked his long, slippery tongue back into your quivering pussy, his thumb taking the place on the sensitive bundle of nerves where his pointy tip had been and you cried out again as he found that one spot you've always read (and written) about. You had questioned it's actual existence, believing it to be one of those wishful myths girls dreamt and you by proxy wrote about - Until Vox and his fucking talented mouth and miraculous tongue brushed right up against it with expert accuracy. It made your eyes roll to the back of your skull, mouth open to cry out as your back arched like a bow string.

"Yeah, there? F-Fuuuck..." The overlord growled, watching your blissful face twist with a new kind of overwhelming pleasure. "You gonna cum for me baby? Come on, let go, good girl..."

You knew the reader-pleasing phrase by heart. You used it a hundred times and fantasized about it even more - It shouldn't have that effect on you, but yet it was that comment of his, spoken in a raspy low rumble directly into your cunt that finally pushed you over the edge, leaving you panting helplessly and cumming.

Hard. Harder than you've ever dreamed about. Every nerve ending on overdrive, every hair standing on edge - it felt like getting struck by lightning, the static electricity sizzling through your blood vessels like a thunderstorm as he was still thrusting that goddamn magic tongue into your spasming hole through the clamping of your muscles, taking you through it with small, measured licks to keep you on the edge a little longer, whines and hiccups mixed with breathless laughs leaving your raw throat as you slowly returned to reality.

This was it, what you've always longed for, you realized after your vision came back to you, staring down at the smug looking TV demon who was still settled between your legs, his glowing screen painted with the remains of your climax. You managed to give him an exhausted smile, blowing a stray strand of wild hair from your face with a quick puff before dropping your head back in the pillow, absolutely spent. Vox pressed a toothy kiss on your thigh and pushed himself back to his feet.

"You've got quite the gushy orgasm, doll, damn..." he wiped a thick blotch of your arousal from the corner of his screen, the neon blue stained fingertip disappearing in his mouth as he hummed appreciatively and licked it away. Then he looked over you, slumped lazily on the sofa, your face flushed, your hair all tangled and the exposed pieces of skin covered with a shiny layer of sweat.

"Shit, sweetheart, you look goddamn good when you're all messed up like that..." He eyed you intently and leaned down, his heavy frame caging you in underneath him, one hand trailing a line from your still heaving chest, between your breasts and up to your throat.

"T-That was.. wow. Just... wow." Clearly illiterate and 50 IQ-points dumber post-orgasm, you cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself. While you were a little disappointed that you still hadn't really fucked, he did what he promised to do. Got you off - and how. You were grateful.

Sad that it was over, maybe even sadder that the chances of a repetition were likely zero - Vox was a goddamn overlord, and who were you other than a nobody with a hard-to-please cunt?- but grateful nonetheless. And you felt the need to let him know that.

"I don't know how to than... w-what are you doing?"

You sat yourself up on the elbows with a dumbfounded expression as Vox began to undress himself, his jacket, bow tie and undershirt discarded within seconds onto the ground and he practically pounced you as he began to undo the belt of his slacks, trapping you in between his legs and under the very prominent hard-on he sported.

"What, you really thought that was it? Make you cum once, win my bet and ding-dong-ditch like a fucking amateur?" Vox laughed as he pulled his massive length out of his pants - Words were your bread and butter but they would ever fail you to describe the gloriousness that was his cock.

Almost as thick as your underarm, smooth and almost shiny, glowing with built-in LED lights along the underside of his shaft and practically weeping with precum. He knelt down on the sofa, taking your hand to run it over its full length, smearing the sticky residue along your fingers, his almost bioluminescent cum dripping thick and slowly from the angry swollen tip. "Fuck no, sweetheart. In case you forgot, let me remind you..."

He leaned down to your ear, a violent electric bold jolting from his cock through your hand right into your overwhelmed, disbelieving brain as he guided you to line him up with your still throbbing entrance.

"I always finish what I start."

Vox had never been in a better mood.

His phone - finally surviving for more than just a few days, since his win against Valentino prevented the moth pimp from smashing it, even in one of his many temper tantrums - buzzed again. A notification of another upload into the cloud. He smirked when he saw the name of the user.

The whole conversation after he fucked Val's writing savant into Limbo and back had been a fucking blast for Vox - he reveled in the morbid joy of cashing in his stake while teasing Val that he'd have to wait another eternity for the chance to make Vox star in a double length porn with him - a fantasy of the moth Vox has been always against. Not to mention that Vox had accomplished what Valentino with all his 'mighty dicks and porn mastery'-aura couldn't. Which (rightfully) sent him into his biggest hissy fit yet, so enraged that, in lieu of Vox's phone to throw against the wall, he threw his newest Robo-Assistant Kitty out the window.

Although Vox had been certain he wouldn't lose the little bet against his partner, he still felt a little relief that his ass wasn't on the next new load of crappy porn DVDs. Granted, that would've surely caused sales to skyrocket - but with his revived and improved little star author that was more than just unnecessary.

Val's fears that a good dicking with a Happy End would sort of break the little writers 'Sex-Spell' and her scripts turn into shite like the rest of Val's useless crew produced proved to be the exact opposite. Ever since Vox made her cum - on his fingers, mouth and cock for multiple times that fateful night - her scripts improved even more, resulting in stellar sales reports, a major spike in cashflow and a personal inquiry letter for a meeting from Asmodeus himself (which Vox contemplated to frame and hang over his fucking bed like a medal of honor).

And since Valentino, in his hurt pride and childish, stubborn pettiness refused to speak or fuck with him, Vox had no qualms of paying his little writer a few more visits. Every time he found impish joy in finding new ways to make her cum, and after one shag-date where he actually stayed long enough for an after-sex-cigarette and some smalltalk, he discovered that she wasn't just a kinky, but also an interesting bitch with great taste in whiskey and a crude sense of humor that was just up his alley.

"I'm curious doll." Vox said as he took another drag from the cigarette before he handed her the bud, throwing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her onto his bare chest as he lounged on the new, bigger sofa he got for her office (more space and much more versatility) "What the fuck did you do to end up in hell? You don't seem like the ax-murder type."

She chuckled mischievously. "I was a pretty popular crime author back upstairs. I hit a pretty bad writer's block, and decided to get in some field work to inspire me for more creative ways of murder. No axes, but I did have a fable for knives." She grinned, inhaling the thick smoke as he laughed and the way her tits pressed into his skin had him almost hard again. "You know what's the most ironic part?" She asked, putting the bud out in the ashtray on her side table and glanced back over her naked shoulder to him, a devious glint in her eyes. "I got the electric chair for that." That woke his cock fully up again, and he couldn't help but take her for another round.

His assistant babbled something about his schedule, but Vox didn't listen. Instead, he planned on visiting her office again, maybe he'd even stay after and order sushi for two, who knew? The media Overlord smiled smugly as he opened the database and looked over the newest script you had uploaded to the cloud. It was when he read the title that he burst into ringing laughter.

'Electrocutie - One Big Cock Shock'

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

<- PREV

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴏʏᴀʟʟʏ ᴘɪssᴇᴅ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴏғғ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜs ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴇᴍᴀɪʟs ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀsᴛ ғɪғᴛᴇᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀs. ʜᴏᴡ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴅɪʙʟʏ ᴘᴇᴛᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ…ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴɪɴɢ. ᴀᴛ ғɪʀsᴛ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs ɢᴏᴛ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴀsɪɴɢʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀᴅᴅ ᴏɪʟ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜʀɴɪɴɢ, ᴘᴀssɪᴏɴᴀᴛᴇ ғʟᴀᴍᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʜᴀᴛʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ʏᴏᴜ.

ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜs ʜᴀᴛᴇʀ (ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ) ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟʟʏ, ʀᴇᴠᴇᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍsᴇʟᴠᴇs ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴠ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ, ᴀɴ ᴏᴠᴇʀʟᴏʀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴇᴏ ᴏғ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴇᴄʜɴᴏʟᴏɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ/ᴛᴀɢs: ғ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴅᴜᴀʟ ᴘᴏᴠ, ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇs ᴛᴏ ғ*ᴄᴋ ʙᴜᴅᴅɪᴇs ᴛᴏ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴᴅᴇsᴄʀɪʙᴀʙʟᴇ, ᴠᴏx ɪs ᴀ ʙʀᴀᴛᴛʏ sᴜʙ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs ᴀ ᴅᴏᴍ, ᴠᴏx ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏғ ʟ's ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏs ɪᴛ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs sᴇxᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪʙᴇʀᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴғɪᴅᴇɴᴛ, ᴠᴏx ɪs ʙᴀᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ, ᴠᴏx ʜᴀs ᴀ ʜᴜᴍɪʟɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴋɪɴᴋ, sʟᴏᴡ ʙᴜʀɴ, ᴍᴀsᴛᴜʀʙ*ᴛɪᴏɴ (ᴠᴏx)

Pride.  

It had been Vox’s anchor through every storm, the bedrock upon which he rebuilt his empire time and time again. When everything else failed – fame, wealth, power – his pride would always remain. It was his impenetrable shield against defeat; it was his sharpened sword in the face of adversity.  

Pride goes before a fall?  

To that, Vox would laugh in mockery.  

In life, in damnation, where everything else – his mind, his body, even his treacherous heart – crumbled to dust, his pride would endure, unwavering and indomitable. He would sooner die than surrender it.  

Despite Vox’s resolve, he had once again succumbed to his damn weakness, his hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. Memories flooded back, warning him of the same path he was about to tread once again. 

Moments of shameful releases played in a loop.  

Moments where he had sobbed and vowed to never repeat.  

Moments where that fucking old-timey radio prick’s name rested on his tongue while his hand was coated in his sticky release.  

He had promised, sworn, that he would never sacrifice his pride for a fleeting moment of hollow pleasure.  

But today, surrounded by the evidence of his obsession with her, he found himself once more in the mercy of his desire, his resolve crumbling like the ashes of his once glorious empire.  

Vox knelt there in supplication, head bowed, clutching his cock like a goddamn lifeline. He realized with a sinking heart that his pride had been the first casualty in this war. The war he waged against her, against himself, against the very fucking essence of who he thought he was.  

He should just find Val and fuck him senseless, let out all the pent-up frustration in a mindless, carnal release. But as he made up his mind, his eyes drifted back to the picture she had sent him. Her playful little smirk pulled him back as a prisoner of his obsession.  

His hand moved almost to its accord, slowly, gently stroking up and down his strained cock. He hissed in relief, the tension easing slightly with each stroke, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to maintain control.  

Closing his eyes, he felt like a drug-addled addict, convincing himself that just one more hit would be enough. 

“Just one more,” he whispered. “One more stroke, and I’ll fucking stop.” 

With each repetition of the motion, his supposed impenetrable fortress that housed his resolve chipped away. One, two, three breaths – his hand moved once, twice, thrice, and he moaned, the sound torn from his throat as he succumbed to the pleasure. The sensation was overwhelming, consuming him whole.  

“Fuck,” he groaned. “This…feels real fucking good.” 

Vox had a terabyte worth of images and videos of her stored in his internal hard drive. A digital shrine he had created to self-flagellate himself as he reminded himself that he shouldn’t and didn’t want her. 

Every day, he fought the temptation to give in, to fuck himself with his hand while he pulled up images and videos of her — let the very image of her sear into his mind.

But he had resisted.

Always.  

Instead, he channelled his frustration into writing her emails filled with hate and vitriol. Some days, when the want, the desire reached to unbearable heights, he would write to her about how much he despised her, how much he didn’t want her, how much he didn’t think of her.  

It never helped. It never fucking did. But it became a ritual, a futile attempt to reclaim what little dignity remained within him.  

A pathetic whimper escaped him as he forced his hand off his weeping cock, denying himself the release he so desperately craved. The photo slipped from his claws, fluttering to the floor as he pressed both hands against the ground, panting heavily.  

Pride.  

That was all he had left.  

Everything else could be rebuilt from the ashes, but without his pride, he was nothing. He’d be damned if he let another fucking soul strip that away from him.  

Vox glared at the photo; its edges crumpled from his desperate grip. It taunted him with her sweet yet mocking smile. “Fuck you,” he said in vain, knowing she didn’t give two shits of what she was doing to an Overlord – to him.  

It was then that he noticed another small scrap of paper, or rather a business card, among the shredded pieces of the package he must’ve missed. Despite doing nothing today, his body felt like it had just run a marathon. His hand trembled as he grunted, forcing himself to stretch his arm to grab the card.  

Whatever restraint he had completely shattered once he read the words on it. “Fucking, fuck, fuck,” he cursed out loud, his voice a mix of rage and despair. “Damn you, damn you to fucking hell,” his whine blended with a shameful moan as his hand went back to clutching his throbbing cock.  

The business card read: 

Vox couldn’t believe this fucking bitch had made a custom order of her own fucking cunt and sent it to him. God, that fucking whore. He cursed her and praised her depravity in a single breath as his eyes fell back to the fleshlight – her gift to him.  

It was the same colour as her skin.  

God fucking dammit.  

He hated her. He wanted her. His emotions swirled in a chaotic storm, tearing at his sanity. His hand moved on its own, gripping the fleshlight with a desperate intensity. It was soft, warm, and he could almost imagine it was her.  

The tip of his claw traced the lips of the synthetic pussy, and he inserted one finger in. He shuddered as he felt his finger enveloped by the soft, wet, plush walls. He had never used a fleshlight before, believing his hand or Val’s ass was good enough.  

His teeth gnashed together, trying to force the words back, but before he could swallow them down, he blurted out his thoughts. “Fuck you,” he hissed as he inserted a second finger. “You’re thinking quite highly of yourself, huh?” He started to fuck his fingers in and out of the fleshlight, relishing the way the walls seemed to tighten, as if not wanting to let go. 

“You think your cunt is this tight?” Vox let out a dark chuckle, recalling how three years ago, there was a huge scandal where sex tapes of her fucking some no-name guys were released on the net. His fingers withdrew from the fleshlight, dripping with its artificial juices, and he traced the lips of her pussy with the head of his cock.  

The very thought of her, the memory of those tapes, the sight of her in that bikini – all of it drove him to the brink of madness. His breath was ragged, a mix of anger and arousal shrouding his mind.  

He hated her.  

He wanted her.  

She tore him apart.  

When that sex scandal broke out and plastered her face all over the news, Vox felt a rush of vindictive joy. This bitch, who had been a thorn in his side for so long, was finally going down. Instead of gloating in another email to her, he offered her a deal.  

He wrote to her that day as Anonymous666, every word dripping with cocksure smugness, suggesting that if she begged him and admitted on her next video that VoxTek was the greatest, he would help her make the whole scandal go away. 

That bitch never fucking responded.  

She never responded to any of his emails.  

Instead of trying to take down the sex video and paying a company to manage her reputation, she hired a small independent programming firm to create a fucking app called “OnlySinners.” On that app, users could create accounts to post exclusive photos and videos of themselves. It quickly became popular among influencers, promising exclusive content for their fans. This so-called exclusive content was all sexual in nature.

Honestly, it was much worse than porn in terms of quality and content.

Furthermore, fans had to pay a monthly subscription to view the posts. There were also different tier systems, allowing fans to get different benefits such as a chance to converse with their idol depending on how much they were willing to pay.  

Because of her, the porn sector of his company took a huge hit that year. He managed to convince the shareholders of OnlySinners to sell their stocks to VoxTek, so she and he became co-owners. But before their first OnlySinners company meeting, she offered to sell the rest of her stocks to VoxTek and his assistant purchased it.  

Vox inserted the tip of his cock inside the fleshlight and moaned obscenely. Fuck, this was amazing. 

She was amazing.  

Why couldn’t she have contacted him to create the OnlySinners app? He had the resources, the power, the connections. They could’ve been filthy rich together. He pulled the fleshlight off, teasing himself as he panted loudly.  

Why did she sell the rest of her stocks instead of co-owning the company together? He inserted the tip of his cock again before pulling out, repeating it again and again.  

She was such a fucking tease.  

Vox had hacked her OnlySinners account out of curiosity and nearly choked when he saw she earned a whopping thirteen figures in the first year of launching that app on the income from subscription alone. She only uploaded five fucking thirty-second clips of her getting railed by other VoxTubers, and yet she was able to earn so much.  

What’s worse was that the quality of the videos was shit, and he couldn’t see her tits or ass. All he could hear was her sinful moans and the sound of skin slapping together. 

Yet, Vox paid to be her one and only loyal, “supreme” fan. She made an absurd tier costing $250,000 a month, and he still hasn’t cancelled despite her account clearly being inactive. In fact, the rest of her so-called fans stopped paying a monthly premium due to the lack of content.   

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Vox whispered, his voice breaking from another moan ripping through him as he sank halfway into her tight, dripping cunt. “We could’ve been unstoppable together.” 

Inserting himself deeper into the fleshlight, he imagined her smirking at him, taunting him with those dark, smoky eyes. “Don’t fucking kid yourself,” he thrust harder, his breath hitching with each movement.  

As he fully sheathed the fleshlight on his cock, taking it all the way to the base, Vox groaned, “Oh, fuuuuck.” His voice glitched, and his head tweaked from the overwhelming sensation of her tight, simulated pussy gripping his hardened, dripping cock. If he pulled out, he might come.  

Holy fuck, was he seriously going to come after one fucking full stroke? 

“I always knew you were a one-pump chump,” a voice, a familiar, and taunting voice, echoed in his head. “You should be thanking me for giving you this.” She giggled, and Vox’s vision momentarily blacked out as images of that damn woman flashed before his eyes. 

“How dare you drop my photo on your filthy floor? Don’t you know you hold the only copy of that photo in existence?” She whispered, her voice caressing and electrifying every nerve, every circuit that made him who he was.  

As his vision returned to the small, dimly lit room, surrounded by her sex toys, filled with the scent of his arousal, he quickly reached for the photo she had sent. He could still hear her voice in the back of his mind. “You should feel special,” she whispered, a seductive undertone drenching her words.  

Vox’s hand gripped the fleshlight tighter, his claws digging into the sides, and he felt his cock hardening even more under his touch and the sensation of her simulated cunt. He dragged his cock out of the plush, wet pocket, his breath heavy as he fought to control himself, trying not to spill his seed inside it. He wanted this to last. He wanted this moment to last, to drown in this euphoria, to lose himself in this sensation of pleasure.  

He wanted to muffle the scream of shame that threatened to short-circuit him.  

Holding the fleshlight just above the tip of his cock, he thrust his hips upward, entering her once more. He held the photo up, forcing his head to look up – to look up at her. He slowly fucked the toy, pretending she was on top of him, imagining taking her slowly, letting her feel every inch of him.  

“D-does it feel good?” Vox asked her. Of course, the photo of her remained still, her lips – her smirk – unmoving. A familiar feeling of his chest being flayed open coursed through him.  

In the quiet space, where it was only him, away from the paparazzi, away from the need to maintain a perfect image for society, he was back in the body of an upstart entrepreneur – a body of a scrappy nobody.  

Vox was back to being the man who had groveled and begged the investors to take a chance on him. To believe in him. He had withstood the mockery and the laughter as he swallowed his pride again and again.  

“Can I…” he gasped, as his hips started to pump in and out quicker and quicker, the lewd sound of his cock thrusting into the lubricated toy squelched and filled the air. “Can I…come?” he groaned, his head falling forward, his ass up in the air before he thrust mindlessly into the toy with reckless abandon.  

The pleasure built with each thrust, a fevered pitch that ate away his mind. He clung to the photo; it kept him tethered to the fantasy of an alternate reality where he had her – where she wanted him.  

“Please,” he whimpered, his voice breaking, a plea to the silent room. “Please let me come.” 

Vox’s pace became frantic, his strokes wild and uncontrolled. The tight, wet embrace of the fleshlight, the image of her teasing smile, the imagined feel of her beneath him – “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna fuckin’…” his words were lost to the sound of his filthy moans and the wet slaps of his hips against the toy.  

His vision blanked with a final, desperate thrust as he released everything he had within him. “Ah, fuuuuck,” he groaned as he slowed his pace, rocking his hips against the toy, wringing his cock dry.  

Once Vox controlled his heavy breath, he slowly collapsed to the floor and rolled onto his back. He stared down at his limp cock, wearing the fleshlight like a sleeve. As the high faded, and the evidence of his broken restraint leaked out from the toy and drenched the front placket of his pants, the all-too familiar sensation of shame settled on his chest.  

His chest rose and fell with the aftermath of his exertion, his breath still heavy and laboured. As if he had woken up from a fever dream, he looked around the room. The shelves were lined with her toys, each one a reminder of his obsession and the depth of his humiliation. The business card, the photo, her message, the custom fleshlight – all of it ridiculed him.  

Vox pressed his palms against his eyes. The cold floor seeped into his sweat-soaked back; he felt the weight of his insignificance. For all his power and wealth, he still saw himself as his scrappy, pathetic self, groveling to other men that were born into a higher status.  

He enjoyed sex for what it was. It brought him a moment of pleasure. But the price was always too fucking high to pay, for at this moment when his mind retained clarity, his heart was out in the open once more.  

Once again, he was back in the void, a cavernous cold space where a sense of emptiness gnawed his very soul.  

Once again, he felt a pain in his chest that he could never seem to fucking name.  

Once again, he had sacrificed his pride for a fleeting moment of hollow pleasure. 

NEXT ->

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

<- PREV

ᴀ/ɴ: ʟɪsᴛᴇɴ. ɪᴛ's ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴠᴏx, ᴀʟʀɪɢʜᴛ? ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ sᴏᴍᴇ sʟᴀᴄᴋ.

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴏʏᴀʟʟʏ ᴘɪssᴇᴅ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴏғғ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜs ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴇᴍᴀɪʟs ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀsᴛ ғɪғᴛᴇᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀs. ʜᴏᴡ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴅɪʙʟʏ ᴘᴇᴛᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ…ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴɪɴɢ. ᴀᴛ ғɪʀsᴛ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs ɢᴏᴛ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴀsɪɴɢʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀᴅᴅ ᴏɪʟ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜʀɴɪɴɢ, ᴘᴀssɪᴏɴᴀᴛᴇ ғʟᴀᴍᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʜᴀᴛʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ʏᴏᴜ.

ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜs ʜᴀᴛᴇʀ (ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ) ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟʟʏ, ʀᴇᴠᴇᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍsᴇʟᴠᴇs ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴠ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ, ᴀɴ ᴏᴠᴇʀʟᴏʀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴇᴏ ᴏғ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴇᴄʜɴᴏʟᴏɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ/ᴛᴀɢs: ғ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴅᴜᴀʟ ᴘᴏᴠ, ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇs ᴛᴏ ғ*ᴄᴋ ʙᴜᴅᴅɪᴇs ᴛᴏ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴᴅᴇsᴄʀɪʙᴀʙʟᴇ, ᴠᴏx ɪs ᴀ ʙʀᴀᴛᴛʏ sᴜʙ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs ᴀ ᴅᴏᴍ, ᴠᴏx ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏғ ʟ's ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏs ɪᴛ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs sᴇxᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪʙᴇʀᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴғɪᴅᴇɴᴛ, ᴠᴏx ɪs ʙᴀᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ, ᴠᴏx ʜᴀs ᴀ ʜᴜᴍɪʟɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴋɪɴᴋ

“Are you listening? Vox? VOX!” Val’s screech cut through the haze, his glare piercing through Vox’s intense focus. Vox glanced up briefly, raising a single index finger in the universal sign for ‘just a moment.’ 

Vox was engrossed in his daily ritual of watching her latest VoxTube video. Ever since launching a cyber-attack on her account, this infuriating woman had somehow managed to turn every setback into an advantage, boosting her fame and influence. At this rate, he could almost envision her seated across from him at the Overlord meeting in a few decades' time. 

In his mind’s eye, she wore one of her signature cocktail dresses that hugged her perfect figure. Her makeup was sharp and dramatic, accentuating her dangerously alluring smoky eyes. And her lips – fuck – those lips – he could already hear the verbal destruction they would unleash, full of snarky comments about VoxTek and him, just as she had loudly proclaimed in her video for years.  

He imagined staring her down across the table, her smirk daring him, challenging him, to come at her. She radiated defiance and confidence, qualities that both infuriated and captivated him in equal measure.  

Fuuuuuuuck.  

Why did he find that so fucking sexy? It was maddening what she was doing to him.  

The worst part of all this was that she probably had no idea how much she tormented him daily. She ravaged the database in his mind, corrupting all the other files to ensure he only thought of her.  

He continued to watch the video; his eyes glued to her face. Her latest video was some stupid challenge she had collaborated with some no-name VoxTuber. They were challenging each other to different silly little games, like how many cookies one could shove in their mouth. The loser would have to eat a spoonful of sinnamon.  

“Ai WEEN!” she declared; her mouth full of cookies. Beige-coloured crumbs spilled from her lips, and her cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk’s, preparing for hibernation.  

The tips of his lips twitched upwards.  

This was so stupid.   

Yet, it was also fucking adorable. 

“Give it up, Val,” Velvette said, scrolling through her phone as she lounged beside Vox. Her voice was exasperated as she lifted her legs and draped them across Vox’s lap. “You should be used to this by now. He’s been a die-hard fan of hers for, like, ten years.” 

Spine straightening, Vox immediately paused the video. “Not a die-hard fan, Velvette,” he corrected, trying to remain pleasant and nonchalant. “Listen, she’s going to be a threat with how popular she’s getting using my network.” His gaze bounced between Velvette, who looked bored, and Val, who raised a brow in disbelief.  

Velvette scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Please,” she flicked her wrist dismissively, “I’ve met the bitch, and trust me, all she cares about is having a fucking good time while getting filthy rich.” 

Vox blinked, a crackle of static electricity leaping from his eyes and travelling down his body, fizzling by the front of his pants. “What?” He turned towards Velvette, who was back to scrolling through her phone. Forcing out a chuckle, his right eye twitched uncontrollably.  

“What?” Velvette parroted, a hint of mockery colouring her tone.  

“Oh, I don’t know, Velvette,” Vox said, his tone light but dripping heavily with sarcasm, “she’s only my biggest enemy –” Val snorted, and Vox shut him up with a sharp glare, “and you didn’t think to tell me that you fucking met her?” He swung his arms out, making a grand gesture to emphasize how big of a deal this was.  

“Uh, wasn’t that radio shithead your biggest –” Velvette finally looked up from her phone, her eyes dancing with amusement.  

“I can have multiple enemies, Velvette!” Vox interrupted, not wanting to hear any mention of that radio prick right now. Besides, he hadn’t thought of him ever since she came into the picture and plagued every waking and sleeping moment of his damn life.  

“Riiiight,” she said before her lips turned into a sly smirk. “Maybe I should’ve told her how she secretly has the number one biggest fan –” 

“Not a fan!” Vox cut her off once again, forcing another chuckle where his voice wheezed from trying to control the irritation before he blew a fuse in his head.  

“Right, right,” she cackled as she began to text something on her phone. “Apparently, she already has a number one fan.” 

Vox tilted his head, error messages popped up in front of his mind’s eyes as he tried to digest her words. “What?” His voice came out in a pathetic squeak, and he cleared his throat, forcing his shoulders to relax as he leaned casually back onto the couch. “Yeah? And who would that be?” He pulled his gaze back down to the video of the girl who plagued his mind.  

He didn’t care.  

He knew she had numerous fans. He had pulled her data and saw that the majority of her fans were all older than her by several decades to even centuries. Those Sinners that all watched her mindless content were all losers.  

The phone screen darkened until it fell asleep from no activity, and his face was reflected back at him.  

They were all losers.  

“Yeah, she got super sloshed that night. Honestly, I don't understand why you hate her. She’s fucking hilarious,” Velvette laughed out loud, her face morphing into a genuine affectionate smile that he had only seen her flash to him and Val.  

“Anyway, it’s some creep by the name ScreenGuy with like some numbers or whatever,” she said, her laughter echoing in the room. “Apparently, that guy’s been buying her used sex toys for like a fucking decade!”  

Heat rose to Vox’s head, but this time it was for a different reason. His thoughts raced, trying to hide the fact that he was ScreenGuy or rather ScreenDude69. 

“Ugh, seriously?” Val chimed in as he sashayed back to the couch and sat on the single-seater. “What a loser,” he added.  

Vox forced a laugh, trying to hide his embarrassment and anger. “Yeah, what a loser,” he muttered, his voice lacking conviction. He turned away, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. How had he let himself become so obsessed? His eyes flickered back to the dark screen of his phone, reflecting his troubled expression.  

“I know,” Velvette said before she snorted. “And he hasn’t been purchasing them for some small chump change either. We’re talking in the hundreds of thousands.” She shook her head as her laughter died down. 

“But the funniest part,” she slapped Vox’s shoulder with the back of her hand, “you’re gonna love this, boys.” With a grin that was all teeth, she said, “half the time this bitch just sends him sex toys, brand new!” 

Both Velvette and Val’s laughter echoed in Vox’s head. He forced out his laughter to join them. The last thing he wanted them to know was that he was the loser who had been purchasing sex toys for the past decade from her.  

As Velvette’s laughter died down, she brought her phone back to her face. “Voxy, baby, if you want to meet your so-called greatest enemy, I’m hosting a party at the V club tomorrow night. And she just RSVP’d.” 

“I’ll check my schedule if I’m free,” Vox said in a casual tone. He was going to make sure he was free tomorrow. But first, he needed to step into a refrigerator to cool down his head.  

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just don’t bitch and moan if you miss out on the chance to see your crush,” Velvette said, waving her hand, signifying that she was over this conversation.  

Before Vox could retort that, once again, she was his enemy, there was a knock on the door. One of his assistants entered the room, his body shrinking under Vox’s attention. “Uhm, Vox, sir? You have a package from Hell Bay?” 

Vox’s heart skipped a beat. He tried to maintain his composure as he ordered the assistant. “Bring it in,” he said, his voice steady but his mind racing.  

The assistant placed the package on the table and left the room. Vox stared at the innocuous brown package, his thoughts a whirlwind of anxiety and anticipation. Velvette and Val were oblivious to the turmoil currently raging within him. He wanted to open it, but not here, not with them watching.  

Bolting out from his seat, Vox unceremoniously threw Velvette’s legs off his lap. She grumbled but didn’t protest as he quickly grabbed the package from the table.  

“You’ve been purchasing a lot of stuff from Hell Bay,” Valentino drawled, tilting his head as if he were trying to peek inside the sealed package. “What the hell are you buying from there?”  

Vox’s claws dug into the box, his mind racing for a plausible excuse. There was no way he was going to ever tell them that he was the so-called loser buying the used sex toy. Putting on his typical suave businessman’s facade, he shrugged his shoulders with a winning smile.  

“I’ve been ordering some computer parts since I have to update–” He stopped short, noticing that he had already lost Val’s interest. Velvette was off in her own little world, scrolling through her phone.  

Most times, Vox would’ve been pissed at Val for losing interest when he was the one who asked in the first place. But Vox supposed that during times like this, he was thankful for Val's short attention span.  

Satisfied that he wouldn’t press further; Vox straightened his shoulders and regarded Val and Velvette with a practised, confident smile. “Well, this has been fun,” he said, “but I have some work to catch up on.” 

As predicted, they both grunted, barely acknowledging Vox’s words. Val was now engrossed in whatever was on his phone.

Tucking the package under his arm, Vox casually strolled out of the room. Once the door clicked shut behind him, his legs sped up as he took a left instead of the usual right turn that would’ve led him to his office.  

He stopped in front of an unmarked door, and he leaned forward at the peephole, which was actually a camera he had installed a decade ago. The camera whirred as it locked onto his right eye. The mechanics of the lock began to click into place before a resounding, loud click echoed in the hallway. Vox checked left and right before quickly slipping inside.  

The room was small and dimly lit, filled with shelves of meticulously organized VoxTek’s sex toys. At first glance, anyone who stumbled into this hidden chamber might assume they were prototypes or a showcase of the company’s innovations.  

But the truth was far sadder.  

Each toy was one he had bought from her on Hell Bay.  

Every single one of them.  

His fingers trembled slightly as he traced the outer edge of the package, the same brown paper package he received nearly on a weekly basis for the last ten years.  

Anger, trepidation, elation, and shame mingled together into a noxious cocktail he was forced to stomach. He heard echoes of Velvette and Val’s mocking laughter at the poor chap – at him – who kept purchasing the sex toy, despite clearly being scammed out of his money.  

For fuck’s sake, just last week, she didn’t even rip off the original packaging or the discounted price tag before shipping it off to him. This girl was playing with him, mocking him. What was worse was that his pride couldn’t allow him to purchase her items for less than what he had paid for the Cobra dildo ten years ago. Spending an absurd amount of money on her was, in a twisted way, his attempt to assert his power, to show her how much richer and more influential he was.  

To show her…how daft he was.  

He knelt on the floor and opened the package slowly, the tear of the tape deafening in the silence. He knew he should stop purchasing his own damn company’s products from her, but if even half of them were truly used by her… 

He looked around, surrounded by the assortment of sex toys that were claimed to be used.  

Fuck, he hated her so much.  

He had probably spent over millions of dollars on her. He was trapped in a perverse cycle, pretending to be two people: one who sent her hate emails daily, filled with venom and vitriol, and the other that loyally purchased anything she put out on Hell Bay.  

Ten years.  

Fuck. Has it been ten fucking years already? 

Vox sighed, pressing his claws against the middle of his forehead. Had it really been this long? He took a deep breath and tore the package open, like ripping off a band-aid to see the rot that festered from the open wound.  

A cylindrical shaped toy flopped to the ground. It was a fleshlight in pristine condition. He curled his lips, realizing that this was the first time she had sent him a fleshlight and completely lied to him that she was selling one of her dildos.  

God fucking dammit. He got played by her. Again. 

At least she had the decency to tear off the price tag this time. With a weary sigh, he held the soft, silicone-made toy. He resolved that this would be the last toy he would buy from her. 

Velvette was right. 

She wasn’t a threat. 

She was more of an annoyance at best. He hated her, but she was also an insignificant little worm compared to him. She was nothing where he had his status, his wealth, and his power.  

But before his resolve could cement, a piece of what looked to be paper peeked out from within the hole of the fleshlight. Scrunching his brows together, he pulled it out and noticed her handwriting on one side of a photo.  

Trembling, he looked at the photo and nearly coughed out his heart. His head twitched as sparks flew, and he had to protect the photo lest it catch fire from the stray sparks.  

It was a photo of her – the top half specifically – where she was winking at the camera and wearing a tiny, bright sunshine yellow bikini top. It looked perfect on her, and the small piece of cloth barely covered her breast, much less the peaks of her nipples.  

If he pressed his face closer to the photo, he could see a hint of the light dusting of her areola.  

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, staring at the photo, his pants growing taut around him, almost chafing his cock from its tight confines.  

He turned the photo over, and in cute, neat handwriting, she had written: 

The note and the photo ignited something primal within him, a mix of anger and arousal. He felt a surge of heat that made his skin prickle with electricity. Vox’s claws gripped the edge of the photo, his breathing heavy as he struggled to contain his emotions.  

He could hear her voice as he reread her note. She would whisper these sweet, damning words. He could feel her phantom breath brushing against the side of his head, sending a wave of violent tingles down his spine.  

He shouldn’t. Fuck.  

He unbuttoned his pants.  

He really fucking shouldn’t.  

He unzipped his pants, each tooth unclicking reminding him of a death toll for his sanity.  

His claws traced the imprint of her lips tattooed on the note. He imagined those very same lips wrapped around his cock more times than he would like to admit.  

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he really fucking shouldn’t – his plea for self-restraint fell on deaf ears as he held his hardened, weeping cock and bowed his head in defeat. 

NEXT ->

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

<- PREV

ᴀ/ɴ: ʜᴏᴡ ʟᴏɴɢ ɪs ᴛʜɪs? ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴍʏ ʙʀᴀɪɴ sᴛᴏᴘs ᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜɪs sᴛᴏʀʏ. ᴛʜɪs sᴛᴏʀʏ ɪs ᴊᴜsᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ғᴜɴ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ.

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴏʏᴀʟʟʏ ᴘɪssᴇᴅ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴏғғ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜs ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴇᴍᴀɪʟs ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀsᴛ ғɪғᴛᴇᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀs. ʜᴏᴡ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴅɪʙʟʏ ᴘᴇᴛᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ…ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴɪɴɢ. ᴀᴛ ғɪʀsᴛ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs ɢᴏᴛ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴀsɪɴɢʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀᴅᴅ ᴏɪʟ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜʀɴɪɴɢ, ᴘᴀssɪᴏɴᴀᴛᴇ ғʟᴀᴍᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʜᴀᴛʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ʏᴏᴜ.

ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜs ʜᴀᴛᴇʀ (ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ) ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟʟʏ, ʀᴇᴠᴇᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍsᴇʟᴠᴇs ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴠ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ, ᴀɴ ᴏᴠᴇʀʟᴏʀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴇᴏ ᴏғ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴇᴄʜɴᴏʟᴏɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ/ᴛᴀɢs: ғ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴅᴜᴀʟ ᴘᴏᴠ, ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇs ᴛᴏ ғ*ᴄᴋ ʙᴜᴅᴅɪᴇs ᴛᴏ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴᴅᴇsᴄʀɪʙᴀʙʟᴇ, ᴠᴏx ɪs ᴀ ʙʀᴀᴛᴛʏ sᴜʙ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs ᴀ ᴅᴏᴍ, ᴠᴏx ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏғ ʟ's ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏs ɪᴛ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs sᴇxᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪʙᴇʀᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴғɪᴅᴇɴᴛ, ᴠᴏx ɪs ʙᴀᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ, ᴠᴏx ɪs sᴏ ғ*ᴄᴋɪɴɢ ʜᴀʀᴅ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇғᴜsᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ ɪᴛ, sᴛʀᴏɴɢ ᴏғғᴇɴsɪᴠᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ

“THAT DAMN BITC–” The rest of Vox’s words distorted, the bass in his voice reverberating beyond its normal capabilities, rendering his rage incoherent. His claws trembled, fighting the urge to crush his phone as he watched her latest VoxTube video.  

A groan echoed beside him. Val, his partner, stirred from his slumber, grumbling as his eyes squinted against the glow emanating from both Vox’s face and his cellphone. “Voxy, are you watching that bitch again?” Stretching his lithe arms, he yawned, the gleam from his singular golden tooth piercing the darkness of Vox’s bedroom.  

“How dare she!” Vox seethed, his eyes burning as he glared at her face, that damn smug grin on her red, hot lips. “Look at her!” He turned his cellphone screen toward Val, who tilted his head, squinting harder. 

“What am I looking at?” Val asked, leaning closer to the screen, his eyes narrowing in concentration. Vox had forgotten that Val had shit eyesight.  

It’s that damn VoxTuber, the one that–” Vox started, his ire heating his head, the faint beeps inside his skull warning him he was close to short-circuiting. His mind replayed her terrible reviews, each word a dagger that cut down his pride into ribbons. Her smug expression taunted him, a constant reminder of her audacity.   

The room felt suffocating, his rage palpable. “She thinks she can get away with this. She has no idea who she’s dealing with,” Vox growled, his voice a low rumble that shook with suppressed fury.  

“Oh, the bitch you’ve been obsessing over for the past, what is it now? Half a year now?” Val said, his tone not amused, as he reached for his pipe and put it close to Vox’s fingers.  

With practised motion, Vox produced sparks in his fingers to light the pipe for Val. “I’m not obsessing over her,” he hissed venomously, affronted that this bitch didn’t take his threat seriously from the email he had sent yesterday.  

“She called my show mid,” he continued, his brows furrowing down as he mimicked her awful voice, “and today, she released a review of my Cobra dildo and said it was so fucking bad, it might as well be considered a fucking war crime for anyone who uses it!” His voice raised, and his hands clenched into tight fists, attempting in vain to curb his rising fury.  

Val snorted, then took a long drag of his pipe, releasing pink smoke from his lips that billowed out and hit Vox’s face. With irritation, Vox waved his hand to disperse the smoke clouding his sight.  

“Well, isn't that why you stopped creating anything sex-related and left it to the professional that, you know,” Val wiggled his fingers, “know what they’re doing?” He took another drag of his pipe, the smoke curling between their naked figures, barely covered by the thin sheets.  

Narrowing his eyes, Vox’s head snapped over to his partner. “What do you mean by that? You said it was a great idea.” His teeth ground together, and again, he felt the heat rising and the sparks tingling at the back of his head. “You said it was innovative.” 

Although Vox had little care for the sex industry, he was the CEO of VoxTek and knew it was imperative to leave his mark – his footprint, so to speak – in every sector his corporation oversaw. When he showed the design for his first dildo to Val, Vox was praised for his ingenious design.  

Val paused mid-drag on his pipe, a wide grin spreading across his face. His fingers traced the contours of Vox’s neck before massaging his shoulder. “Voxy, the design was interesting, but not as practical as you imagined.” With a pitiful pat on Vox’s shoulder, Val shrugged nonchalantly. “Certainly made for a good tool to shove up some disrespectful whore’s ass, that’s for sure.” 

His partner’s comment only served to defend the bitch’s review of his dildo. “Fuck you,” Vox spat, whipping the cover off his body and swinging his legs out of the warmth of his bed into the cold.  

“Oh, come on, Voxy,” Val crooned, chuckling between his words, beyond amused by Vox’s irritation. “Why don’t I shoot her in the face a couple of times for you?” His eyes curved into sharp crescent moons; his sadistic glee evident as his eyes glowed red in the dark. “Maybe rip her cunt off and gift it to you?” 

Vox hated her.  

But as he heard Val’s suggestion, his eyes dropped back to the girl on his phone screen.

He hated her.  

The way her lips always seemed to be hiding a dirty secret, the way her eyes lit up with mischief, the way her voice seemed to chime with infectious energy – he hated everything about her.  

But the very idea of needing fucking Val to fight his battle – he hated that above all else. 

Slowly, he turned his head toward Val. He didn’t need a damn scandal on his hands. VoxTek had to maintain a perfect image. He would handle that damn bitch on his own. “Val,” Vox forced a smile, his eyes burning with unchecked rage sparking out from his skin, “don’t touch her,” his voice booming and distorted as if multiplied and overlapping.  

Val raised a brow before shrugging his shoulders. “Suit yourself, Voxy, just trying to help,” his voice light, almost sing-song, before taking another long drag from his pipe.  

With one last glare, Vox stormed out of the room, dressing angrily in his usual blue suit attire. He headed to his office to launch a full-on attack. If she wanted to shit-talk his brand and image, then two could play at that game.  

He entered his office, a lone platform surrounded by inky darkness where one accidental slip could easily lead to a plummet that would take days to restore his body. Sitting in his chair, he faced the numerous computer monitors, ready to take command.  

Before connecting the wires to the back of his head, he resumed the video. After all, it was important to know your enemy and information was key. It was certainly not because he couldn’t go a day without watching her latest video.  

“—honestly, I don’t even know how this got a five-star review! Can’t get anyone off, I tell ya!” Her laughter echoed in his office as she waved the Cobra dildo around.  

The product was a simple design: a dildo with a narrow-curved tip adorned with two red beady eyes. He thought it would be perfect to massage the erogenous zones in one’s ass or cunt, but clearly this bitch didn’t even know how to use a sex toy properly.  

Though he never tested the product himself, it was obvious that his product was perfect and always the best.  

In fact, she was probably a fucking virgin, pretending to be a slut for views. Besides, who would want to fuck her? 

Vox certainly wouldn’t.  

No siree.  

A lump formed in his throat as his eyes trailed down the long, slender expanse of her throat before pooling at her perky breasts, with a hint of cleavage visible beneath the white tube top she wore for today’s video.  

“Trust me, I was very thorough with using this,” she said, the tip of her pink, wet tongue peeking out from her lips as she slowly traced her lower lip from left to right. Vox’s eyes couldn’t look away from her tongue, and his mind automatically started to record the video, storing it in his internal hard drive.  

Her devilish lips turned upward into a dark smirk, a promise of exuberant pleasure to come for any lucky fool to be able to shove their coc– he quickly vanished the train of thought before it fully materialized into the forefront of his mind.  

“It was so well used, until it was dripping, guys,” she whispered into her microphone, and a shiver tingled down his spine as her voice seemed to rub and ruffle all the right circuits within him.  

He could feel the front of his pants getting tighter by the second. Her voice – her sinful, lustful voice – continued its low timbre. “I’m going to sell this on Hell Bay, used,” she said, before…she winked.  

That saucy, little, she-devil, winked!  

The rest of her video played, and it took every ounce of his self-control to will his traitorous, lower half to behave. He had just fucked Val – how the hell was he already ready and roaring to go again?  

Taking a deep breath, he dragged his hand down the flat screen of his face. He didn’t want to fuck her. He just had a very healthy libido. This and that were unrelated.  

“Focus,” he muttered to himself, shaking off the unwanted feelings. He couldn’t let her get to him. Not like this. With a deep breath, he connected the wires to the back of his head, his mind merging with the digital realm.  

First, he was going to send her a scathing email about how much of a fucking cock-licker she was.  

He hoped his words would make her cry.  

Then, he was going to start programming bots to spam her videos with comments about her being a shit VoxTuber. He’d review bomb all the products she was sponsored by.  

Opening a blank email, he began to type, each keystroke a release of his pent-up fury.  

Cackling, his claws clicked and clacked against the keyboard. He knew this bitch wasn’t going to last for long. He gave her three days, tops.  

Then he suppressed a snicker, amused by his own generous estimation. Three days was too much. 

He’d give her 24 hours, tops.  

As he continued to draft his email, he entered a bidding war for her used Cobra dildo on Hell Bay. It was pathetic how these poor hapless fools only had a couple of thousands of dollars to spare. He was going to bid so high that no one would dare to dream of ever outbidding him.

There was no way he was going to let anyone buy the dildo and desecrate his ingenious product, his prized possession, if he had anything to say about it.  

The first thing you did when you woke up was check your phone for any business emails or opportunities to expand your brand and image. As you turned on your phone, your eyes nearly bulged out as your email linked to your VoxTube account had over 100,000+ emails in the span of six hours.  

“What the fuck?” you mumbled, scrolling through the email subject lines and realizing they were notifications for comments on your video. God, why couldn’t VoxTek program their site to have a setting where you didn’t have to receive push notification for this crap? It was only clogging up your email.  

As you scanned through the email messages, you quickly realized that all the comments made on your video were all from a bot programmed to flame your comment section. It was easy to tell with how unoriginal and unimaginative the comments were, considering it were five different variations of saying that you sucked.  

Grinning, you couldn’t believe your luck. Whoever sent this virtual attack was a moron. Didn’t they realize that more engagement, regardless of the negativity, meant that the VoxTube algorithm would push your video to more potential viewers?  

A bubble of giggles burst forth as you deleted the emails with ease. Today was going to be a fantastic day, you just knew it in your bones. Plus, with the bots entering your comment section, it counted as a view. Your latest video reviewing the Cobra dildo shot up in views, gifting you with an immense boost of your view count compared to what you would’ve normally received.  

Among the spam and invitations to parties with other companies wanting to collaborate with you, you noticed another email from Anonymous666 in your personal inbox.  

You were no stranger to hate comments; they came with the territory of the industry you were involved in. Back when you started, specifically, back when you were alive, every hurtful word would send you spiralling into despair.  

But as you steadily climbed the ladder of fame and fortune, you learned to brush off the negativity. In fact, sometimes you found the passionate hate comments oddly charming – each one a unique expression of someone’s emotions, someone’s evidence that you lived in their head rent-free. For a while, it brought you great joy that you had such power over their minds.  

But eventually, even the most creative hate comments started to feel mundane and repetitive, leaving you in a cycle of apathy and boredom.  

You knew Anonymous666’s messages would likely fade into insignificance in your mind soon enough. For now, though, you have decided to indulge in the free entertainment. With a smirk, you clicked on their new email for today.  

Subject: Fuck you  You wouldn’t know a good sex toy if it fucked you in your fucking cunt, covered in your cream. I bet you’re a virgin slut, and you don’t know how to use a god-damn dildo.   Here’s the instruction for your dumb ass, peanut-sized brain:  You insert the fucking dildo in your cunt.   Your review of the dildo only shows how incredibly naive you are. You’re just spreading fake news. That dildo is fucking outstanding. It’s five stars. It would obviously be the bestseller if VoxTek didn’t release a new dildo biweekly.   Furthermore, what is wrong with you selling the dildo, used, no less, on Hell Bay? That’s disgusting. Depraved. And wrong. Who the hell would even buy that? I guess if you’re desperate for cash, someone might be generous enough to donate money to you. You might as well be a whore at that point – shaking your fucking ass and tits for money.   Moreover, you are not sexy. At all. You’re just trying much too hard.   In short, you are an attention-seeking whore.   Well, you definitely got my attention!   I’m going to make you regret shit talking the greatest company in all of Hell.   Fuck you.  

Your lips quivered, a mixture of amusement and disbelief contorting your expression. “Ah…” you managed to choke out before laughter erupted from deep within you for the second day in a row.  

Anonymous666 did not miss.  

You couldn’t help but wonder if this fervent hater was a die-hard VoxTek enthusiast. Maybe they weren’t a fan of yours after all, but rather they were hard up for that TV demon himself. It would explain why your videos critiquing VoxTek’s products attracted the most bot-generated comments.  

For a moment, you toyed with the idea of engaging with them, perhaps even coaxing out some insider information about the largest corporation in all of Hell. You lick their dick and give a pretty smile, and they tell you all the little secrets you needed to scam some of the honchos that wank themselves off for having a supposed tight security.  

Fuck, you missed that high.  

Your fingers hovered over the reply button, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you imagined the possibilities. Yet, after a brief pause, you sighed and pressed the delete button instead. 

You’d danced that dance before, and while you couldn’t entirely avoid the desire to become an influencer once again, you’d resolved to focus on a different goal in this new life.  

A simpler goal.  

A goal where you focused on accumulating as much wealth as possible and finding solace in the comforts of damnation for the rest of eternity.  

A notification chimed on your phone from Hell Bay, announcing that username ScreenDude69 had won the auction and purchased your used dildo for a staggering $750,000.  

Wow.  

Impressive.  

Excessive, but undeniably impressive.  

Maybe you should put up more used toys up for sale, considering you just hooked a hapless fool, and it aligned with your goal perfectly of earning as much money as possible. 

You had a feeling that if they bought one, they were sure to buy them all.  

NEXT ->

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

ᴀ/ɴ: ɪ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴀɴᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀᴛᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴠᴏx x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ sᴛᴏʀʏ (ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʟᴇss ᴀ ʀᴀᴜɴᴄʜʏ sᴍᴜᴛ). ʙᴜᴛ, ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜɪs ɪᴅᴇᴀ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ sᴏ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ғᴏᴄᴜs ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sᴛᴏʀɪᴇs. sᴏ, ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ. ᴀʟsᴏ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ᴀ ᴅɪsᴛʀᴇssɪɴɢ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴠᴏx x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ sᴛᴏʀɪᴇs sᴏ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀɪʙᴜᴛᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀᴛᴀʙᴀsᴇ. ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ, ɪ ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢɪᴢᴇ ɪғ ᴍʏ ᴠᴇʀsɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴠᴏx ɪs ʟᴀᴄᴋɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ.

ɪɴsᴘɪʀᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜɪs ᴘᴏsᴛ/ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇʀsᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ ᴍɪss @redfoxwritesstuff

07.09.2024 - ɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ'ᴍ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪs sᴛᴏʀʏ, ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ sʜᴏʀᴛ ғᴜsᴇ ᴛᴏ sɪɢɴᴀʟ.

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴏʏᴀʟʟʏ ᴘɪssᴇᴅ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴏғғ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜs ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴇᴍᴀɪʟs ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀsᴛ ғɪғᴛᴇᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀs. ʜᴏᴡ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴅɪʙʟʏ ᴘᴇᴛᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ…ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴɪɴɢ. ᴀᴛ ғɪʀsᴛ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs ɢᴏᴛ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴀsɪɴɢʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀᴅᴅ ᴏɪʟ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜʀɴɪɴɢ, ᴘᴀssɪᴏɴᴀᴛᴇ ғʟᴀᴍᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʜᴀᴛʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ʏᴏᴜ.

ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜs ʜᴀᴛᴇʀ (ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ) ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʀᴇᴠᴇᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍsᴇʟᴠᴇs ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴠ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ, ᴀɴ ᴏᴠᴇʀʟᴏʀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴇᴏ ᴏғ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴇᴄʜɴᴏʟᴏɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ/ᴛᴀɢs: ғ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ, ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇs ᴛᴏ ғ*ᴄᴋ ʙᴜᴅᴅɪᴇs ᴛᴏ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴᴅᴇsᴄʀɪʙᴀʙʟᴇ, ᴅᴏᴍ/sᴜʙ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴛᴏɴᴇ, ᴠᴏx ɪs ᴀ sᴜʙ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs ᴀ ᴅᴏᴍ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs ᴀ ʀᴇsᴘᴏɴsɪʙʟᴇ ᴅᴏᴍ, ᴠᴏx ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏғ ʟ's ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏs ɪᴛ, ᴅᴜᴀʟ ᴘᴏᴠ, ᴠᴏx ᴛʀɪᴇs ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʜɪᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ᴇɴᴅs ᴜᴘ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏᴍᴇʀ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs sᴇxᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪʙᴇʀᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴғɪᴅᴇɴᴛ, ᴠᴏx ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ʙʀᴀᴛᴛɪᴇsᴛ sᴜʙ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ғɪɴᴅ, ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ғʟᴜғғ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ sǫᴜɪɴᴛ

“Hello, my Sexy Peeps! How are you doing on this hellish day?” A melodious burst of laughter chimed from Vox’s phone. He took a dramatic sip from his coffee, savouring the rich, dark brew, and settled into his plush armchair, preparing to lose himself in her latest video.  

“Today, I thought I’d mix things up a bit due to a very popular request!” She continued and leaned forward in front of the camera, giving Vox a generous view of her cleavage. He approved her outfit choice for today, a tight-fitting cyan blue tank top with a plunging v-neckline.  

But aside from her attire, he was interested by her supposedly “new” content. He didn’t know she took requests from her viewers. Intrigued, he arched an eyebrow, setting his cup down on the side table and leaning his face closer to his phone.  

The newest online sensation on VoxTube was about to begin. This girl had seemingly materialized out of nowhere, drawing tens of thousands of views and subscribers to her channel. Her retention rates were astoundingly high for content so banal and ordinary. Initially, Vox had suspected his network had been hacked.  

He still couldn’t quite grasp how in seven layers of Hell she had managed to manipulate the algorithm with her simple videos. All she did was try the newest foods around the Pentagram and review random merchandise in a phenomenon called “unboxing.” 

His gaze inevitably wandered to the deep trench of cleavage she prominently displayed. He scoffed. He’d seen better. After all, his partner controlled the porn industry in Hell.  

Yet, that didn’t stop him from pausing her video sometimes, openly staring at her chest for a few seconds… or minutes…or maybe he may have saved a couple (several) screenshots of her video and her photos from her Sinstagram account. Perhaps he might have even saved some of her more salacious-looking photos on his internal hard drive for private viewing. 

All for research, of course.  

“Now, I know there’s this series – the longest-running series in all of Hell…” she trailed off, her plump, pretty lips curling into a mischievous smirk.  

Vox straightened in his chair, feeling the first flutter of excitement in his chest. Could it be? Was she going to mention his most prized project, “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!” for free?  

Excitement surged within him, a giddy thrill that this lame, greenhorn, no-name nobody was about to mention his series to her 2.5 million (and growing) viewers.  

“Guys, guys, guys,” she laughed, raising her perfectly manicured hands in the air as if in surrender. “I watched the first season and wow–” 

Vox pressed his thighs together, waiting with bated breath for what he hoped would be a glowing review. Perhaps he should contact her, reach out, sponsor her like all the tiny, insignificant, worthless, businesses were doing.  

“I gotta tell you,” She shrugged, raised her immaculate trimmed brow, and with a hearty guffaw, said, “it’s pretty mid.” 

Disbelief washed over him as he stared at the screen. Instinctively, Vox paused the video, staring at the freeze-frame image of her with a large smile dancing across her lips.  

Mid? Mid? What the fuck did mid even mean? 

Scrutinizing the word in his mind, he thought maybe she had given his series an average score. Average. He could work with average. But judging from the comments filled with those annoying crying laughing emojis and agreement that it was bad, he realized it was another piece of slang from this decade that he somehow missed.  

Power surged through his head as his mind dove into the database, and he opened his trusty Urban Hell Dictionary. 

The definition of Mid was… 

Below average. 

Not good. 

Mediocre.  

Boring.  

“WHHHHAT?” He roared, his voice glitching in between the long-drawn-out word. Springing up from his chair, he picked up his mug before hurling it against the polished floor. It shattered into a cascade of jagged pieces, their sharp lines reminiscent of crooked, mocking smiles. The hot coffee splashed onto the hem of his pants, its sudden heat mirroring the fury rising within him.  

Memories surged through him, back to when he was alive, back when they cancelled him for not being innovative enough, for not being entertaining enough, for being… 

Being…. 

Boring.  

His eyes twitched, electricity crackled and jolted up in arcs across the surface of his head before fizzling out at the points of the antennas from his hat.  

He should kill her. Get Val to make her disappear or force her into working at his porn studio. How dare she call the fruits of his labour…b-bo-… He seethed, unable to even say the damn, blasted word.  

Vox thought of a thousand ways to torment her, relishing the idea of making her cry with her below-average, not good, mediocre, BORING looking face. Anger surged, boiled, in his veins, and he did what he knew was the best course of action when faced with this unprecedented insult.  

After all, with VoxTek, he had an image to keep of being on the side of the lowly Sinners. He chuckled, forced, but chuckled, nonetheless. It would smear his good image to go after some small, nobody of a Sinner. After all, he was an Overlord and the CEO of the largest corporation in all the five fucking points of the Pentagram.  

She was going to get so cancelled.  

That he would make sure of.  

Humming a random, jaunty little tune, you shut off the ring light and closed your laptop. Stretching your back, you sighed in satisfaction as your bones gave a gratifying crack. You giggled at some comments from your review of the popular series, “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!”  

There were passionate defences claiming the series was a work of art, which was far-reaching at best. It was mildly entertaining enough to watch while you painted your nails. Seriously, the show looked like it was produced for the audience in the 1950s.  

You were the first influencer to give a poor rating to the TV series, and being first meant more controversy, more views, and more money from sponsorships as you rose to the trending list once again.  

Damn, gaming the system was the best. Truly, Hell was way behind its time compared to what people did for views back when you were alive.  

Following your routine, you washed away the makeup, changed from your tight-fitting clothes into a loose T-shirt and sweatpants, and laid on your king-sized bed that was far too big for one person. Staring up at the ceiling, you were surrounded by the void of your loneliness.  

You should…go out and fuck someone.  

Preferably, someone related to the entertainment industry. All that juicy gossip about your newest fling always raked in views and clicks.  

But the idea fizzled and died as you thought about having to play the submissive role, feeding their giant egos to compensate for their shit-sized cocks. You considered visiting the BDSM club, but influential people were rarely found out in the open in those shops. There was probably a private club that you weren’t invited to…yet.  

Vain.

Empty.

Nothing.  

It didn’t change much, did it? Whether you were alive or damned.  

Everything about your life was the same.  

Sitting up, you grabbed your phone and started to scroll through Voxazon, frivolously spending thousands of Hell bucks on useless crap.  

Retail therapy.  

The tried-and-true method to stave off depression and apathy.  

You were ready for that dopamine hit as you read through the reviews of the latest dildo models, your lips pulling into a sly smirk at all the new features of VoxTek’s newest sex toy.  

A chime resounded from your phone – a notification from your personal email. Your brows raised as the sender was from anonymous666@hellmail.com 

Confused, you opened the email, wincing at the possibility of infecting your device with a virus. But that thought quickly vanished as you read the email’s content.  

Subject: (no subject)  Dear Bitch,   Retract that fucking review about “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!” from your video today, or you will regret it.   Furthermore, you have a “mid” face, and so are your boobs. Your boobs are super fucking mid. You probably get MORE views if you actually covered your boobs because that’s how MID they are.   And all your videos are MID. Especially the one you posted on July 7, 20XX, where you reviewed the Hellover drink. The one where you wore that shitty neon green tank top, which, by the way, is also fucking MID.   Anyway, this is my FIRST and LAST warning.   Fuck you.   P.S. Seriously. Fuck you.

Your eyes slowly blinked, once, twice, before a hearty, genuine laugh erupted from you. Oh my God. Did this prick actually hack your account to get your personal email to send such a shitty, lame-ass message? 

Breaths coming out in short, uneven huffs, you rolled over on your bed from side to side, clutching your stomach. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes from laughing so hard. You hadn’t laughed this genuinely since you fell to Hell.  

As your eyes traced over the words of their message, you laughed out loud again. It looked like you had a butt-hurt superfan.  

Humming, you rolled over onto your stomach and kicked your feet idly as you stared at the message. “Thanks for the laugh, virgin prick,” you whispered, planting a loud smooch on your cellphone screen. “Annnnd, delete!” Your index finger daintily tapped the trash can icon.  

Now, back to the task at hand. You debated between getting the glittery pink dildo or the two prong dildo. Tilting your head, you decided you deserved a treat, so you ordered both. 

As you were purchasing more random crap, your eyes glazed over, your mind fervently thinking of what to say for your next season review for that TV series. Just then, an annoying ad popped up – of course, from VoxTek – promoting their shitty Cobra vibrator. Seriously, you tried it, and it did nothing for you.  

An idea rapidly formed, growing until you jumped out of bed and ran to your laptop. No one had truly (and honestly) reviewed some of VoxTek’s terrible sex toys yet. In fact, you noticed that every single review for their sex toy line had glowing five-star ratings.  

Now, some of their toys were outstanding, making you come so hard until you were sobbing, soaking your underwear from your release. But that was one out of every five toys you purchased. Like all massive corporations, VoxTek was clearly buying reviews, giving themselves perfect scores.  

Perhaps it was time to change that. 

Your review of the series and the anonymous hate message were soon quickly forgotten. This was your chance to shake things up, to give the unfiltered, raw truth that your viewers craved.  

With a determined glint in your eyes, you started drafting your next video script. This was going to be huge, bigger than Jerry’s dick from last week, that was for sure.  

NEXT ->

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

The Makings of a Great Show

Vox x Reader (female) Smut (Hazbin Hotel)

Smut: read at your own risk. Angst (?) in the beginning. Somewhat abusive relationship. Includes: female-bodied reader, fingering, dirty talk, cursing, dubious consent, exhibitionism (?). First smut. I had to use the thesaurus to find different ways to say “moans”.  

Summary: You ask Vox if it's cheating to play games with another guy all night.

You sit on the lush loveseat that Vox provided for you in his monitor room. Something about “compromise” (you said he didn’t spend enough time with you and was always locked up in his monitor room, so compromise to him is buying you your own chair to stay in the monitor room). You look up intermittently from your phone with a bored look, but the same is on the screen. Various sinners with their eyes glued to their VoxTek devices, random areas of Hell Vox likes to monitor, Velvette’s model room, and… ah yes, of course, the Hazbin Hotel with random shots of a glitching Alastor. You roll your eyes in annoyance. If you didn’t know better, you’d think Vox was dating Alastor, and not you. You’re looking at your boyfriend sitting at his desk, watching all his monitors, when a question comes to mind. Something that might cause some excitement. 

“Hey, Voxy, random question.” You ask with a bored tone. 

“What is it?” Vox deadpans.

“Is it cheating if I play video games with another guy for more than an hour at night?” Vox looks back at you over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Hypothetically, of course.” You add hastily. 

He thinks for a moment. “I suppose not…” He grunts, before looking back at his monitors. “Are you flirting with him?”

You shrug. “No… well what if he has a little crush on me, but I’ve told him I don’t want anything with him?” 

You hear the distinct, sharp noise of his claws dragging against his desk. That’s going to be a pain for someone else to patch up again later, you think to yourself. You lock your phone and put it down on your lap. Vox turns to look at you again, a fake smile plastered on his screen, eye squinting with the forceful nature of the smile. “So… another guy’s flirting with you and has a crush on you… you are aware of this and you continue to play games with him at night without telling me anything about this happening? Is that what I’m hearing, dollface?” 

You shake your head. “No…? I mean it’s all hypothetical.” 

Vox gets up from his chair and pushes it back, walking towards you. You look at his face with a nervous smile. If attention is what you wanted… you got it. “Hypothetical, hm?” As he walks towards you, his face on his screen disappears and is instead replaced with populating screenshots of your messages with said hypothetical man you were playing games with. Sweet messages from him about how pretty he thinks you are, and how he’d travel whatever the distance to come and see you. However, there isn’t a lie… you didn’t entertain the idea of the two of you dating, but… “You know, I didn’t say anything for… compromise and whatnot. For you.” Vox states, a tilt in his voice, as though he’s holding back laughter. “You know, since you didn’t flirt back, though, I found it curious you didn’t say.. ‘Yeah no, I have a boyfriend and he’s amazing.’ Not once.” He reaches you on the couch and places a clawed finger under your chin to lift it up to look at him properly, his face reappearing on his screen. “Why’s that sweetheart? Since you want to bring it up so bad?”  

You look at him with slight apprehension in your eyes. “It just… well seeing who you are…you’re so famous in Hell… I just thought it might make him uncomfortable… so I decided to just keep it to myself.” Vox grins at you while you blabber on poor excuses. He nods at you as words spill from your lips, standing back and removing his finger from your chin, as if encouraging you to keep running your mouth until you found words that made some sense, at least to you. 

“You know…” Vox says, “I would think that after being with me for so long, that you would have learned how to lie a little better.” Your eyes widen at his words, an apology starting to form, but Vox lifts up a finger at you and shakes his head, silencing you. “No, no, don’t speak.” Your mouth clamps shut. “Do you wish you were with him instead of me?” You shake your head feverishly. “No? You wish it was him fucking you? You think he’d deal with you? You think anyone except me would be able to handle you properly? Look at you.” He eyes your form up and down. 

You feel like you can barely breathe. “Vox…”

“What did I say about speaking?” He interrupts. You press your lips together tightly and look down at your feet. You tremble, feelling the weight of him sitting down next to you on the couch. You hear him pat his lap, and you look at him. “I think I need to teach you your place again, doll. Bend over.” You hesitate to move, knowing very well what was coming. “Y/n…do not make me repeat myself.” At this, you rush to lean your body across his lap, ass in the air, hands gripping the cushions of the couch nervously. Vox smiles at your obedience, trailing his claws slowly, starting on the back of your knee, making a path up your thigh, pushing your skirt up, and deciding the end location to be the fat of your ass. He sighs and takes a moment to appreciate your flesh, squeezing. You bite your lip refusing to make any sound, lest he get even more angry with you. 

Vox chuckles a bit, sensing your silence. “You can speak, baby.”

“I’m sorry! Please I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear, I was being stupid, Vox, I’m so sorry!” You blurt out.

Vox absentmindedly rubs your backside, as though deep in thought. Air enters your lungs in a quick fashion, in and out, your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage, so hard he can feel it against his thigh that you lay against. “I want you to count everyone. And if you fuck up, trust me, I won’t be as lenient.” 

You nod against him. As you begin to brace yourself, you hear it and feel it; he brings his hand down harshly against you. Fuck, he really is angry, you think to yourself. “One!” Pain blossoms on your left side, but you don’t have much time to think about it, when another slap lands on your right side. “Two!” Tears prick at your eyes; you can’t remember the last time he was this hard with you. Usually it’s like a little foreplay game, but this time it just feels angry. You sniffle as another hit lands. “Th-three, Vox!”

He laughs at you. “You know what’s the funniest thing about this?” He hits you again.

“Four!”

“That I bet your pathetic little pussy is probably soaking just from this. You have to be finding new ways to piss me off on purpose, dollface.” Unable to help it, you rub your thighs together at his words. “Mhm… I fucking knew it.” You now notice how hard he is beneath you; he’s always been a bit of a sadist with you. 

He slaps you once more, harder than all the ones before, your ass left burning. “Five! Please, Vox. I’m sorry.” You feel him press against the reddened skin, a small mercy from your boyfriend. Tears fall freely, wetting your face.

“What a good girl. Let’s see the damage, yeah?” He slides your panties down smoothly, leaving them hanging on your ankles. He whistles. “Oh my god, you're such a slut. Look at this fucking mess.” You feel him slide two fingers into you. You whine, spreading your thighs subconsciously, searching for more pleasure. He slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you, relishing in the squelching noises that come from you. 

He sighs as he withdraws his fingers from you. “Turn around, pretty girl. Lay down on your back for me.” He scoots, allowing you room as you do as he instructs. “Unbutton your blouse. Show me what’s mine.” Your trembling fingers start, unbuttoning them as best as you can. As you busy yourself with that, he leans to fish your discarded panties that had stubbornly hung onto your ankle, pocketing them in his dress pants. Won’t be getting those back, he’s such a perv. 

You finish with your blouse, tossing it to the floor. You wait, exhaling a slow breath in anticipation. Vox gives you an appreciative look, a trail of red appearing at the corner of his mouth on the screen. “Fucking hot. I have to focus though.” He holds out his hand, expectant. “Give me your phone.” You listen, and he inputs your passcode, opening the camera app. He swipes it into video mode. He grins and points your phone at you, beginning to palm his hard-on through his pants. “Smile for the camera, gorgeous.” 

You start to cover yourself embarrassed. “Vox, I don’t-”

“Shut the fuck up and move your hands.” You do so. What else were you going to do? You look at the phone’s camera lens, giving a nervous smile. “Don’t be so scared, baby. You’re gonna put on a great show for us.” Us? He can see the question in your eyes and furrowed brows. Vox slaps the side of your face lightly while keeping that camera aimed on you. “Don’t worry about it. Just be my good girl.” He leans forward towards you, petting the insides of your thighs softly. Your eyes go back and forth between him and the phone recording your erotic display. “Keep your eyes on the camera, princess.” 

You listen and your mouth falls open, feeling two of his fingers enter you again. He doesn’t bother going slowly this time, he knows you're wet enough from his previous administrations. You whine, spreading your legs again; you’d almost forget about being recorded if you weren’t forced to keep looking at it. Vox continues to pump his fingers in and out of you with vigor, and you moan as you feel him add a third. You move your hips against his hand. “M-more please, Vox, please…” 

You hear him chuckle. “Yeah, yeah, I know what you want. Because you're my girl right?” You nod in a daze. He uses his thumb to press against your clit and you whimper in pleasure. “No one could please you like this, huh, Y/n?” You nod in agreement, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“I'm close…please let me.” You beg quietly. 

“Not so fast.” Vox slows his fingers, much to your dismay. “Who do you belong to? Who makes you feel this good?”

You blink slowly, looking at him for a moment. “You.” You feel him remove his fingers from you and he slides them into your mouth. You suck obediently, gazing at Vox lovingly. He smiles at you, but shakes his head. 

He flicks his eyes to the camera and removes his fingers from your mouth, tracing your lips softly. “Tell the camera baby, who do you belong to? Who do you love?” 

Your eyes trail to the phone camera lens. You smile and say, “Vox. I belong to Vox. I love him and only he makes me feel this good.”

Vox nods in approval. “That’s right, baby. You did so good.” He shoves three digits inside you, using his thumb again to rub at your clit. You moan loudly in surprise and pleasure. The coil in your stomach tightens up again, and Vox feels your walls tightening around his fingers; his dick twitches in jealousy. “Hurry up and fucking cum, dumb slut.” You sob sweetly at the release that entrances you. He continues the movements inside you, letting you ride out your orgasm. 

He quickly pulls away from you once your breathing slows. He scrolls through your phone, opening a messaging app. “Oh there he is.” He taps the screen a few more times, and grins, tossing your phone back to you.

You look to see what he was doing. You suspected it, but it doesn’t lessen the dread you feel. The video Vox recorded, he of course sent to himself, but he also sent it to your gaming buddy. Well, he wouldn’t be that for much longer you supposed. A message was sent after the graphic video. Hope you enjoy it, cause this is as close you’ll be getting to her. She didn’t want to be with you because she actually has a boyfriend. Send that to anyone and I’ll know, and trust me, I will kill you and no one will even fucking care. Never speak to Y/n again and flirt with someone you actually would have a chance with, cause my girl is WAY out of your league. 

You look over at Vox, shocked. “Vox! What if he-”

“I’ll kill him.”

“But the Vee’s image!?”

“Babe, you really think I’d let it be traced back to us? Fuck no.” He stands up and pulls out his phone, switching to the camera. “Anyways, get on your knees. That one wasn’t made with me in mind.” He unbuckles his belt, letting his pants slouch on his knees. He crooks his finger at you. “Put that mouth to good use and give me an even better show.” You can’t help but smirk as you fall to your knees before him. 

It would appear that this little charade would be going on for a while.  

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

🩵📺 Pet 📺🩵

~Vox x Sinner!Reader🔗

Part 1 𖦹 Part 2 𖦹 Part 3 𖦹 Part 4

Summary: You decide to flirt with an executive type meeting with Vox for business matters. He takes it up on himself to see that you're punished... appropriately...

Warnings/promises: 18+, teasing, overstimulation, bondage, Dom/Sub, master/servant, spanking, oral (f receiving), vibrators, aftercare

After a very successful meeting, the group of men who Vox had just been in discussions with begin to leave the room, leaving only you, Vox, and one other executive. You had been a server for the meeting. You hadn't understood much of what was being debated, but Vox looked pleased with the results so you were happy. As you go to pick up a few forgotten plates, you're stopped by the one man who hasn't left yet.

Vox raises an eyebrow, his gaze shifting from his work to you, suspicion tainting his otherwise good-humored expression as he sees the man give you a flirtatious look. He rests his head against his hand, observing the exchange. You smile at something the man says and he winks back at you. So far not enough to truly be able to excuse Vox being as upset as he is, but he keeps watching.

Vox leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, a sly smile playing on his lips. His eyes track your movements, watching as your smile grows brighter with each passing moment before shifting his gaze to the other man, noting the small details; the way he looks at you, how relaxed he sits on his chair, the way his eyes are half lidded. Vox is sure he's interested in you, but still needs more before he can truly step in without looking deranged.

The man says something else and his smile is dangerous. Upon observing his almost predatory look, a snarl tugs at the corners of Vox’s lips, narrowing his eyes as his arms tighten around his chest. He continues to watch, his almost-toxic confidence not faltering despite his growing unease.

You turn and catch Vox's eye, you can see how jealous he's getting and it spurs something in you. Something devious... so you begin to push your luck, laughing loudly at the man's jokes, moving your hips more as you talk, and even lightly touching the man's arm and thigh.

Vox's eyes flash with a burst of white-hot jealousy, his knuckles tightening on his arms at the sight of you giggling and being so touchy with this stranger. He takes a slow, measured breath, trying to calm himself, when he hears you squeak out in surprise.

Vox looks up suddenly to see that the man has wrapped his arm around the small of your waist and pulled you down onto him, straddling his lap. Your hands are held up, not voluntarily touching him anywhere as he attempts to pull you closer, knowing that pushing this any further is not a good idea.

Fury boils within Vox, his vision turning red at the sight of the man daring to touch you. He cracks his neck, then with a deep growl, charges towards the pair, knocking over a chair along the way.

"Sir," you push out as he approaches, a bit concerned but mostly happy he's there to intervene now that things had gotten out of hand.

With a scowl, Vox rips your waist from the man's grasp, his strong arms wrapping around you protectively. He pulls you into a tight embrace, tucking you under his chin; you can feel his heart racing in his chest from the sudden rush of adrenaline.

You look up at Vox with wide eyes. "Sir, I'm okay..." You whisper in an attempt to calm his fury a bit.

His grip on you doesn't loosen, as if he fears you'll slip away. Vox takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He glances over at the man who touched you, with a glare. "Do you make a habit of harassing the staff everywhere you do business?”

"No, Vox, Sir!" the man responds, hands up defensively.

"See that it doesn't happen again." Vox warns, his voice barely above a low growl as the man darts out of the room the first chance he gets. He turns back to you, his eyes softening.

"Are you sure you're alright? I swear, if he had laid a finger on you..." His eyes roam over you up and down, as if checking for injuries. He finds none and releases a sigh of relief. However, the jealousy doesn't subside. "Why did you let him get so close? You know better than to keep me at arm's length.”

"I could see you getting jealous... possessive..." You say with a blush.

A little surprised,Vox chuckles at your comment, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Well, I can't help it, pet. The very thought of others getting near what's mine..." He trails off, leaning down and taking hold of your chin as though to kiss you but stopping.

You whine in disappointment. "Vox…”

"Hmm, it sounds like you need to be punished?" He asks, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. A hint of a smirk spreads across his lips as he leans in close to your ear. "You seem to have forgotten your place already. I thought I taught you better than that.”

"I might require some... private lessons..." You whisper back.

"Private lessons, huh?" He murmurs, a low-pitched growl escaping his throat. "Very well. But don't think you'll get off that easily." As he speaks, his grip on your chin tightens. "After all, what would be the fun in that?”

I bite my lip in anticipation. "Yes Sir..." You almost moan under my breath.

"Good girl," he growls in response, taking your lip between his own teeth and tugging gently. A low rumble reverberates through his chest as he leans in to whisper in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to make you regret ever teasing me.”

You give a very sensual look and press your chest to his. "I look forward to the tutoring…”

"You're damn right you do," he says, his eyes darkening as his hand snakes around the small of your back. He pulls you in even closer, your body now almost fully pressed against his. "You'll be begging for mercy.”

A shiver rolls through you, so curious for what he has planned. "Oh, yes, Sir.”

"That's what I like to hear." He murmurs, his hand sliding up your back and into your hair. With a firm grip, he tilts your head back and leans in close, his mouth hovering just above yours.

"a-ah..." You gasp out.

That's all it takes. His lips are on yours in an instant, devouring you in a kiss that leaves you breathless and dizzy. He teases your lips apart with his tongue, inviting himself inside and tasting you deeply. The kiss is rough, dominant and all-consuming.

It lasts as long as the two are alone in the room. The moment Vox hears the door beginning to open, he pulls back, giving you a look that says, ‘this isn't over.’

"Go into my office, I'll be right there to deal with you. understand?" Vox commands.

You nod obediently. "Yes Sir..." You say with a glint in your eye before sauntering off.

"God, she's such a tease." Vox mutters under his breath, but he can't help the smirk that spreads across his face as he watches you go. He straightens up and adjusts his clothes before making his way to the office after you.

. . .

"Vox," Velvette calls his name as she steps into his office. "Where's that little assistant of yours? She's the perfect size and look for a dress I need modeled..."

"She's... taking care of something for me." He says with a tight smile, trying to distract Velvette from looking around the office more.

She raised an eyebrow. "Taking care of something, huh?" she asks, giving you a suspicious look. "Well, when will she be back? I can't be bothered to call in Katty."

He sighs, "She will be back soon, I promise. Just give her a little bit longer." He tries to reassure Velvette, not wanting her to get too suspicious.

She glances around the room as if scanning for her, or some proof he's lying. He can practically hear the gears turning in Velvette's head, and it's making him uncomfortable. He shifts back in his seat slightly, trying his best to maintain eye contact and not let his nervousness get the best of him.

"Really, she'll be back in a moment."

"Well then maybe I'll just wait here for her..." she suggests, sitting on the long couch in the corner.

"No! No, that's not necessary." He quickly interjects, not wanting to give her the chance to search for you. "I can call her down for you, I promise she'll only be a little while." He quickly picks up his phone and pretends to sends text to your phone. "Yeah, I'll send her your way the minute she's back. How's that sound?"

Velvette purses her lips and squints at him for a long moment before finally standing. "You've got an hour and then I'm coming back up here. Got it?" She asks with a glare.

He nods quickly, grateful that she's finally leaving. "Yeah, that's perfect. I'll see you then." He plasters on a fake smile and watches her leave before letting out a sigh of relief. "Finally." He mutters under his breath.

He stands, moving to lock the office door before going over to the coat closet nearby and opening it up with a smile. Inside was you, tied up, wrists bound behind you, arms and ankles strapped to a chair. Your eyes are covered with a silk blindfold while a blue ball gag is currently buckled into place in your mouth. But the main attraction is the hitachi he has strapped to you on full blast. He looks down at you as you tremble in intense pleasure, fingers sprawled and head hanging back.

He approaches you slowly, taking in the sight of you in all your restrained glory. His smile grows wider as he hears the constant buzzing from the toy between your legs and the way you shake from the overwhelming pleasure. "You've been in here for almost thirty minutes. People are looking for you..." He says teasingly.

You answer with only a shuddering groan. You stopped being able to make much more noise than that about four orgasms in. now you've been reduced to just a quivering, silent mess.

He chuckles softly as he walks closer, his fingers lightly touching your cheeks before carefully removing the dripping gag from your mouth. "Good girl" He praises, moving behind you to unstrap you from the chair and vibrator before picking you up and carrying you over to the couch, placing you on his lap. Your breathing is heavy, the twitches and the aftershocks of pleasure still rocking through you. He wraps one arm around your waist, leaning back against the couch while his free hand moves up to gently stroke your hair.

"You're driving me crazy, you know that?" He murmurs with a sly smile. "I hope you're ready for round 2."

"R-round 2...?" You ask weakly, comforted by his arms.

He chuckles softly, "Yes. Round two." He murmurs before tilting your chin up and leaning in to press a slow, gentle kiss on your lips. His hands roam your body carefully, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure still pulsing through you as he whispers against your lips, "you need to be rewarded for being so good that whole time," he coos. "Velvette was sitting right next to you and didn't hear a thing."

"Reward...?" You ask breathily.

He nods, "Mmhmm. A reward." He murmurs before kissing you again, slowly moving his hand down to start massaging your breasts teasingly. His free hand slides over your thighs, slowly making its way up to pull apart your slit. "But first... I need a taste of this..."

You wait, still blind, as he leans down and presses his tongue to your overstimulated pussy. "S-Sir!" You gasp loudly, pulling your shoulders up close to you and trying to use your hands, which eye still bound behind your back, to slow him.

He chuckles against your skin, the sound vibrating against you as he continues lapping at your over-sensitized pussy. "Such a responsive little thing, aren't you?" He croons, pulling away from you before plunging his tongue back inside.

"Wait! Wait, wait!" You chant breathlessly as he continues to eat you out.

He pulls back after a moment, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as he looks up at you with a sly smile. "I don't think I will... you taste like heaven, and I want more." He murmurs, his hot breath still fanning over your sensitive skin.

"Sir! A-ah!" You yell out, too loudly. With a tsk tsk tsk, he picks your gag up and presses it back into your mouth.

"I told you, little bird, you're not allowed to be loud... unless you want a punishment."

You moan a protesting moan as he latches the buckle behind your head once more; fully unable to react once again.

He smirks before dipping back between your legs, licking and sucking at your already-drenched pussy, wanting to see just how loud he can make you moan with the gag in your mouth.

It doesn't take long before he has you in tremors again on his lap, your body shaking as if in a seizure. The muffled moans coming from behind the gag are delectable.

"Oh, fuck, you're so fucking responsive." He groans, his voice muffled as he continues to lavish attention on your dripping wet pussy, sucking hard on your clit and lapping at your juices with a hungry tongue.

You throw your head back, your spine arching as you cum, and hard. You groan loudly and bite at the gag.

"Mm, such a good little slut." Vox purrs, his voice vibrating against your sensitive skin as he continues to eat you out, prolonging the pleasure as he licks up every single drop of your release, unwilling to let a single bit of your taste go to waste. Meanwhile drool drips down your chin around the gag.

He laughs lightly before slowly pulling back from between your legs, bringing the gag off and setting it aside, "Such a sloppy, pretty mess you are... I love it." He praises before his lips descend on yours, kissing you hard, letting you taste yourself on your lips.

You kiss him back with fervor, leaning up and into him, hungry for his tongue. He chuckles against your lips, letting you taste yourself fully on him, letting you get nice and close before he breaks the kiss and pulls away, "As delicious as that was, I think it's my turn to make a mess all over this pretty little couch."

"Are you gonna fuck me now...?" You ask in a small voice.

He smirks and slowly unbuttons his jeans, pushing them down just enough to free his thickening cock, "We'll see. I want to hear you beg for it first. I want to hear you beg to be stuffed full of my cock, pretty slut."

"Please," you immediately oblige, pressing your naked chest to his and licking up his neck, kissing and nipping at his skin as you go. "Please fuck me, Sir... I need you, I need your cock inside me! The whole time I was sitting in there all I wanted was for you to be fucking me... please, *please*, let me feel you inside me..."

He groans as you practically throw yourself at his feet begging him to fuck you, his cock fully hard now and throbbing for you, "You're such a desperate little slut, knowing just what to say to please your master..."

"Do you not like it...?" You ask with a smirk, pressing against him more and licking blindly at his lips.

"Oh, I love it. It's just that you make me so fucking hard it hurts." He grins back at you before leaning down to kiss you again, this time he makes the kiss more passionate and heated.

"Ahhh..." You sigh into the kiss, greedily sucking on his tongue.

"Mmm, so fucking sweet. You make me so crazy with desire, you know that?" He starts to grind his cock against yours as his hands roam your body, squeezing your ass and chest. "Tell me what you want. Tell me how you want me to fuck you."

You press your lips to him one last time, breaking away with a loud "mchwa!" before falling back into the couch once more and pulling your knees to either side of your chest, happily offering up your swollen and aching cunt to him. "I want you like this, please, Sir," you reply eagerly. "Please hold me and fuck me like this...?"

"You look so beautiful like that, spread open for me, begging for me. Of course, I'll fuck you like this." Vox grins before coming down over you, slowly pushing his cock inside your dripping wet pussy.

You let your head slowly fall back. "Yesss, thank you, Sir..." You let out a low moan. "Thank you..."

"You're so wet for me, my little slut, it's all I can do not to fill you up already. But I want this to last." He says in a low growl before starting to fuck you in long slow strokes.

"Only for you, Sir... wet only for you..." You gasp in pleasure.

"Your cunt is so fucking tight, I can hardly move. But you feel so good, so wet and hot." He continues to find your breasts and he starts to massage them roughly as he moves inside of you. He leans down to whisper in your ear, "You're so fucking tight. Feel that? Your master's cock stretching you out... filling you up, all the way to the hilt?" He starts to move inside of you, slowly at first but gradually picking up the pace. The couch creaks loudly as he pins you beneath him. He gazes down at you with a smoldering gaze, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he fucks into you deeper and harder. You let your tongue hang out as you moan loudly at the feeling of him ruthlessly fucking you into the couch.

"Mmm, such a good little slut for me, taking my cock like a champ. That's right, let it out, moan for me, moan for your master. You belong to me tonight, and every other night that I want you."

"I am yours this night and any night! Yours whenever you wish to take me!" You cry out.

He smirks at your words and continues to fuck you, hard and fast now, filling the room with the dirty sound of flesh on flesh. "That's right, you're mine any time I want you. And trust me, baby, I always want you."

"Please, Sir!" You gasp out asking sweetly, "Please kiss me..."

He leans in, his lips pressing against yours in a rough and demanding kiss. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip, biting it gently before breaking the kiss. "You're my little slut, aren't you?" he breathes out heavily. "And I'm your master."

"I'm your little slut!" You cry out, "I live to please my master!"

He smirks at your words and leans down to bite your neck softly. "Then show me how much you want to please me," he whispers in your ear, his hot breath making you shudder with desire. "I want to hear you scream my name, over and over again."

"S-Sir?" You ask, wanting to be sure, "You want me to, a-ah, to say your name...?"

"Yes, pet. I want you to scream my name, again and again," he says with a smirk. "And I want you to cum for me with my name on your wet lips". He grabs your hips and starts fucking you harder, as his pace increases.

"Vox!" You scream out as you feel his cock pounding at your core, deep inside you. "Vox, Vox, YES VOX!"

"Good, there you go, cum for me, you little slut..." he grunts out and continues fucking you relentlessly, taking you hard and fast, his cock throbbing deep inside you. He can hear your wet, needy cries mixing with his own grunts and moans.

"Vooox..." How name comes out of your lips, twisting into a moan as your pussy clenches around him, cumming on his cock and melting into the couch from the pleasure.

He groans, feeling you milking his cock. "Yes, pet, that's it,” he praises and kisses you again. "You're so fucking tight for me, you're gonna make me fucking cum..."

"No!" You whine out quickly, lifting your head. "Wait! Please, Sir, I want to see you, please..." You squirm, attempting to use your shoulder to get off your blindfold, but failing. "Please, please let me see you when you cum in me, Sir. Please..."

He freezes for a moment, considering pushing you a little further, but then he relents. You'd been so good and did everything he asked of you happily and without complaint. Taking the blindfold off carefully, his smirking face comes into view as he starts thrusting into you again, harder than before. "Do you want to see me cum inside you, little slut?"

Your eyes are half-lidded and wet with unshed tears. You look up at Vox, flushed and sexed out. "Yes... Vox..." Your moan his name one more time, reaching for him with your face. "Please, kiss me again..." You beg him with bedroom eyes.

He doesn't disappoint you. In fact, he gives you a rough and deep kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with no restraint while slamming his cock into you and holding you close. You can hear the wet, squelching sound his cock is making and it sounds so incredibly fucking lewd that you're surprised everyone in the building can't hear it.

"Please give me your cum Sir..." You moan onto his lips before lewdly sucking on his tongue again. "Cum inside of me while your tongue is in my mouth..."

"You are so dirty, and I fucking love it!" He whispers while continuing to thrust himself deeper and harder inside of you. It's not long before he feels his balls tighten and he presses his lips back to yours as the familiar rush of orgasmic bliss washes over him.

You moan loudly as he fills you, doing exactly as you said and sucking on his long tongue as he does. Roughly, he slams into you one last time, burying his cock deep inside you before he pulls his mouth from yours and buries his face against the side of your own as he rides out his orgasm, his body shaking slightly with a pleasurable sensation as he breathes in your intoxicating scent. Your eyes are rolled back in your head, blissfully at his mercy.

"Oh fuck, you're incredible," he says through shallow panting as he continues to fill your pussy with his cum. Once he's finished, he slips his cock out of you with a lewd, wet pop, leaning a half-step back to admire the absolute mess he has made before reaching down to kiss your forehead.

You smile up at him, eyes imperceptibly open as you breathe heavily. "Was I good...?" you ask in a small sweet voice.

"You were fucking amazing," Vox praises you, his voice gruff but genuine, his eyes scanning over your tired but sated form with a genuine fondness. "I can barely stand right now... You've drained every last bit of energy from me." He admits as he watches your eyes flutter open and close again before his hand comes up to touch your cheek.

He looks up at the clock, realizing just how close you both were cutting it. His eyes widen as he realizes that Velvette would be arriving soon, but there was no way you would be in any state to do modeling today. He'd have to make it up to her somehow "Shit... Fuck... She's gonna kill me."

"Who...?" You ask, only half aware.

With a frustrated sigh, Vox pulls out his phone and starts to send a text message, "Velvette." He says the name with a grimace as he types out a quick explanation, letting her know that there's been an unexpected... development... between you two.

"Will it be okay? I can try and pull myself together..." You say, trying to sit up, but he can clearly see the exhaustion in your whole body.

Vox looks over his phone at your determined and rather adorable expression, his hand reaching up to help untie your hands, his chest thrumming with a bit of laughter upon realizing he had just caused you to look and seem absolutely ravaged, and now you were trying to power through to do some modeling as well.

"No, sweetheart," he says with a smile. "I think I need to take care of you for the rest of the day... Make sure you're fully recovered," Vox says, his voice softening a little more as he gazes down at you, a fond smile on his face as he sees how vulnerable and beautiful you look.

"Are you sure, Sir?" You ask. "I can do it..." You say the words but your eyes are shut now and you're on the verge of sleep.

He chuckles lightly, leaning down to give a gentle kiss to your forehead, a strangely comforting and safe gesture. "You can rest now, beautiful. Just get some rest." He whispers, scooping you up and carrying you to bed, ready to do whatever he needs to make sure you're okay.

***

A buzzing sound fills the dark room and Velvette pulls out her phone to find a message from Vox.

“Sorry, my little pet is feeling a bit under the weather after her errand, we’ll have to do a raincheck on that shoot. I’ll make it up to you though, don't worry. Full compensation.”

“She’s not coming,” Velvette spits out.

“What!?” Valentino shouted, standing up quickly from his chair opposite her. “That fucker makes me wait an extra hour only to keep the little thing locked up in her little fucking tower!?”

“Yep, looks like it,” she answered, looking thoroughly uninterested and not even looking up from her phone as Val began to throw things. “Now can you please get your pissbaby ass out of my office? I don't need you destroying more of my shit. Go have a tantrum in your own room.”

Val huffed, turning to glare at Velvette, who was flipping him off, before stalking out of the room and slamming the door. As he rounded the main atrium, he looked up in the direction of Vox’s office.

“I *will* get that little bitch. You cant keep her hidden forever, Voxie…”

Some very ominous foreshadowing for the next part. Hope you enjoyed!

Taglist: @liveontelevision @bad-and-drawn-that-way @lonelynmisunderstood @shcrou-sei @l0liamk

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

🩵📺 Pet 📺🩵

~Vox x Sinner!Reader🔗

Part 1 𖦹 Part 2 𖦹 Part 3 𖦹 Part 4

Summary: Val comes to collect his prize only to be very displeased. You begin to settle into your new role as Vox's assistant.

Warnings/promises: 18+, teasing, overstimulation, light bondage, Dom/Sub, master/servant, spanking, oral (m receiving), vibrators, aftercare, some violence

You awaken to the sound of a loud commotion outside the room, almost like an argument, some hours later. You jerk awake at the sound of a crash and look around. You find one of Vox’s coats and put it on just in time for the door to be kicked open. In bursts Valentino, alongside a fizzbot that is attempting to stop him. Your eyes meet and he storms in your direction. Ice runs through your veins and you scream.

Vox doesn't react quickly enough when he hears the door burst open, however he immediately springs into action when he hears you scream. The business man is immediately on his feet, alert and ready to protect you, charging toward the intruder, only to stumble when he sees the commotion. "What the fuck Val!?" he yells seeing the shattered fizzbot in the wall.

"I come here to get my mainline lead only to be told she's in your bedroom!?" Val yells angrily as you cower in the bed.

Vox stops in his tracks and he takes in the situation, his mind racing to think of an excuse. He puts his hands up, hoping to calm his furious business partner. "Val, just- just calm down okay? It's not what it looks like."

"Oh yeah!?" he yells, walking over to you, gripping you by the hair and dragging you off the bed. "Because what it looks like is you *fucked* my merchandise! I paid top *fucking* dollar for a virgin and when I come to collect her I get told she's in here, and find her like this!?"

Vox's eyes widen as he sees Val gripping you by your hair and dragging you off the bed. His eyes turn red with anger as he takes in the sight, taking a step forward to intervene.

"You've cost me money Vox!" Val yells, looking down at you as you cry out, holding his wrists to try and stop the pain. "You thought you could get out of what I have planned for you by seducing the boss, chiquita? You got another thing coming." He pulls you up to his face, your feet dangling as you cry. "I'm gonna put you through the fucking ringer..."

"Val! That's enough!" Vox shouts charging towards Val to pull him off of you. He grabs Val by the arm and yanks you away from him, causing a struggle between the two men. You fall to the ground and crawl backwards until you hit the bed.

"You'd better start taking, and fast, Vox." Val says, gripping his suit jacket. "I paid for her, she's mine, I can do with her as I please."

"Is she?" Vox asks, holding out his hand. A glowing blue chain appears leading to your neck. "Her soul contract is mine. Let go of me, Val. I'm not going to let you hurt her," he says sternly, trying to shake off Val's grip on him. He stands, trying to get between Val and you, shielding you from any further harm.

Val scoffs, still angry but unable to argue. "You better pay me back every cent I paid for her."

"Consider it done. Just leave now, before I make you leave," he growls back, his eyes glowing dangerously. He watches Val carefully until he's fully gone from the room, making sure he doesn't come anywhere near you.

You reach up, gripping the chain and pulling his attention back to you. He looks to see you shivering in fear, silent tears on your cheeks. Vox approaches slowly, kneeling down in front of you. "It's okay now." He says, trying to soothe you. He carefully wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. "I got you. I won't let him hurt you."

You curl into his arms, trembling and he begins to rub circles on your back, trying to calm you. He whispers soothing words to you, kissing the top of your head. "Shh it's okay. I'm here," he says over and over again, until he feels you relax in his arms.

While The initial confrontation is relatively traumatizing, the next week goes by like a dream. You don't see Valentino again outside of passing glances and everyone else seems to have accepted you in your new role. You act as Vox's assistant in front of others, but when you're alone... the dynamics spring forth.

Vox has been in a meeting for the past thirty minutes, having a serious discussion about a new television show with a group of other executive types. Once he's finished and bids them farewell he finally drops the act, letting out a rich breath. Just as the door closes behind the last of his business partners, Vox drops his head onto his desk with a shudder and a groan, his hands in fists. "Fuck!" He looks down to see you under his desk, your hair a mess and your face flushed with a mix of pleasure and exhaustion from what he just made you do.

You smile, his cock pressed to your stuck out tongue before taking him back into your mouth. Vox groans again, gripping the desk tightly as he begins to thrust up into your mouth. The sight of you so submissive under his desk is more than he can handle. It doesn't take long before he's releasing into your mouth with a final thrust and groan.

With a hum, you take every drop, swallowing it down before pulling back and looking up at Vox with a smile, hoping to be praised. As he looks down at you with a dazed expression, he can't help but smile at your act of submission and the happiness he sees in your eyes.

"Good girl." He says as he pulls you out from under his desk and into a kiss. "You're perfect for this role."

"Thank you, sir," you reply happily. "What else can I do for you?"

"Mmm... well..." He trails off as he looks at you, his mind wandering to many dirty possibilities. "You can get on the desk and show me that cute little pussy of yours." He smirks, excited to see how dirty you're willing to get.

You turn around, leaning over the desk and pulling up your dress, revealing that you're not wearing underwear, just like he'd asked of you that morning. He smirks, taking a moment to enjoy the view before scooting his chair closer, staring at your bare pussy from a couple inches away. It's clear he loves what he sees. "Damn, girl, you're wet for me."

You shiver knowing he's staring at you. "I was enjoying the meeting," you say playfully.

"Is that so?" He asks with a chuckle, leaning in to run a finger along your slit. "I'm glad I could spark some... enjoyment during such a logistical and otherwise boring meeting." He grins before pulling away, bringing his soaked finger to his lips and tasting you.

"But, damn, you really did like that." He says with a grin, before undoing his tie and giving you a look. "I'm going to have to punish you for getting so wet during business hours."

You blush and bite your lip, excited and nervous.

"Good. That's the reaction I was looking for." He smirks, standing up and moving around to your side of the table. He wraps the tie around your wrists and knots them together, using it as impromptu bondage. "Don't look nervous, I'm just going to spank you a little." He says with a grin, before tugging on your hips and bringing them a little higher onto the desk. He pulls your dress up over your hips and positions you so that he can start delivering firm spanks to your ass cheeks.

With a deep breath, you steady your nerves as his hand caresses your soft skin, prepping it before the smack. He begins to spank you, starting off fairly gently, but the spanks gradually become firmer as he goes on, caressing the spot softly between each smack. You can feel your ass cheeks growing warm under his hand, and it's not entirely unpleasant, in fact, with each new hit you feel your mind slipping.

He notices your reactions and continues the assault on your round, soft ass. Sometimes, he smacks the same spot over and over to make it extra sore before switching it up and spreading the punishment around. He gives you a few seconds between each smack for the sting to build up. You react well, begininh to moan louder and louder, pressing your forehead into the desk.

"Good girl..." He chuckles at your reactions, caressing the red spots before leaning over you. "You took that quite well." He says with a smirk. "Does my pet want a reward for being such a good girl during her punishment…?”

"Yes, please sir..." You moan out.

He grins at your answer and pulls back, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, silver bullet style vibrator. He turns it on low and traces it up between your thighs until it brushes against your entrance. "You want something like this?”

You twinge at the vibration against your already sensitive skin, letting out a little "Ooo~oo~ooh..." as he trails it up to your wetness.

He smirks as he hears your reaction, and he rubs the tip of the vibrator against your pussy lips for a second to get it wet, before starting to slowly push it in.

Slowly leaning your head back, mouth opening in a silent moan, your eyes begin to glaze over. You look so sexy right now, so needy and all alone while at your most vulnerable, Vox can hardly stand it. He watches you and the way you react to the vibrator, making him turn it up higher, pushing it in further. He loves making you this way, it's intoxicating.

"Sir! A-ah~!" You moan loudly, your bound hands on your back clenching into fists.

He chuckles and whispers in your ear. "Do you want more? Do you need more, pet?" He moans out, his breathing getting quick as he rubs your clit while also pushing the tiny but strong vibrator further into your needy pussy. "I don't think my fingers will get it deep enough..." he says with mock disappointment.

Your body begins to tremble at the pleasure he's providing you, anxiously awaiting whatever he has planned for you next.

"Luckily I have something that I think will reach exactly where you want it..." he says in a low and seductive voice.

You turn to see what he's doing just in time to feel the tip of his cock press against your wet, aching opening and you throw your head back in a loud moan.

"Yess... I knew you'd love it..." he moans as he slowly pushes in, stretching your walls open for him. He takes his time, going inch by inch, letting you feel every groove of his cock filling you up.

"Yessss, I love it sir!" You moan as he fits perfectly inside of you.

"I'm glad, pet." He says as he begins to thrust into you. He takes his time, trying to hit every spot, making you moan and whimper under him. His hands are on your wrists that are still bound behind your back, holding onto them while he fucks the tiny vibrator into you. You feel him pounding the bullet into your cervix and your head begins to spin. You let your tongue loll out of your mouth as he uses your arms as anchors to pull you backwards onto his cock.

"You're so fucking tight, my sexy little pet..." he grunts, continuing his brutal pace, hammering the bullet inside of you until you're a moaning mess, the head of his cock slamming against your g-spot with each thrust. "Best split decision I've ever made."

"Thaaaaank you siiiiir..." You moan out obediently just as you feel your stomach behind to tighten. "I-I'm so close sir...!"

"Cum for me, my slutty little pet." He orders, his thrusts getting harder and faster. The head of his cock is now consistently hitting your g-spot as he continues to fuck the bullet into you, pushing it against your cervix.

With his permission you let your orgasm wash over you, a shiver running down your spine as it does.

"Fuck yes..." He grunts, feeling you tightening around his cock and the bullet as you cum. He continues to thrust, prolonging your orgasm as much as he can. Then you hear a second buzzing sound erupt.

You turn to try and see what he's doing but you can only see his smirking face as he presses another, larger vibrator against your throbbing clit and you all but scream at the sudden overstimulation.

"Greedy little thing, aren't you? I like that." He laughs softly before rubbing the tip of his cock against your g-spot as he begins to thrust again. He lets the second vibrator sit against your clit, humming at a constant, low frequency.

Your whole body quakes as your eyes roll back into your head. You can't think, you can't see, and you don't want to. You want nothing more than to exist in this moment of extreme pleasure with Vox. "C-cu-ah....!" You try to speak but struggle. "A-agai-ah!"

"Oh, I'm not stopping anytime soon. you go ahead and let loose. Cum all you want, baby." He growls, one hand gripping your thigh tighter as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, the other on his tie around your wrists. He wants to see you cum again and again until you've completely lost your mind to him.

Obediently, you let your second orgasm hit you like a Mac truck, but he doesn't stop, ruthlessly fucking you into his desk. You're sure you'll have bruises on your thighs for a week... beautiful little lines proving how much your master loves his pet… the thought alone is almost enough to keep you going.

"Yes. Exactly like that," He growls, feeling the walls of your pussy clutching onto his cock with each wave of pleasure. He loves the way you look when you cum, eyes rolling back and mouth open. It makes him even harder to know the amount of satisfaction he's giving you.

It's not even a full minute before u feel a third wave coming, and fast. "Sirrr!" You groan out. "I-I'm cumming agaiiiin..."

"Yes!" He shouts, hands gripping you even tighter as he continues to thrust into your needy hole, feeling you squeeze around him. He keeps going through the twists and turns of your orgasm, thrusting even harder, fully in his dominant state of mind.

As your third orgasm hits, you think you might lose your mind. "Please sir!" You beg, "It's too much! p-please please!" Your voice is desperate, your body trembling, your hips squirming to escape the pleasure... but most importantly to Vox, your cunt is like a vice on his rock hard member.

He loves hearing the desperation in your voice, it only fuels him deeper. His thrusts become almost punishing, slamming his cock inside you again and again, his own orgasm building quickly now. "You want it to stop?" He growls, voice thick with desire.

"Yes! It's so much! PLEASE sir!" You scream in overwhelming pleasure as you drool onto the desk. "I want your cum! I want it inside me, please! PLEASE fill me with your hot load, sir!" you growl back, knowing how much he loves when you plead for it like that.

"Fuck!" He groans, the sound of you begging to be filled pushing him right over the edge. His orgasm washes over him like a tidal wave, his cock throbbing as rope after rope of his cum fills your needy cunt.

You moan loudly, head back, eyes glassy, mouth agape. It feels like heaven. Vox's cum fills you, spilling out from around him and onto the floor. He takes a few moments, letting out ragged breaths as he watches his seed dripping slowly from your soaked pussy onto the floor. "There... there's a good girl..." he praises you while slowly pulling his cum-covered cock out of you with a satisfying pop.

You continue to shiver as he stares down at you, the bullet inside still buzzing away inside and threatening to take your sanity with it.

"Fuck, that still going?" He says with a raised eyebrow and a chuckle.

"P-please s-sir-aaahh..." You moan. "T-t- take it ou-ut...."

"I think a little bit more is in order, don't you?" He says as he smirks down at you while slowly turning up the intensity of the vibrating bullet inside of you. "Maybe I'll leave it inside you for the rest of the day!"

"Nooooo-oooo!" You moan as your eyes roll back into your head.

"Yes!" He chuckles as he watches your body writhe under the force of the intense orgasmic pleasure. The bullet buzzs away inside of you, causing you to shake and moan even more at his mercy. He continues to smile, knowing full well that he has you in the palm of his hand. He then bends over and whispers into your ear, "You are perfect, I have shaped your cunt to exactly my shape and desires. there's no other hole I would dare put my cock in after having a taste of you." He gives you compliment after compliment, wanting to push you over one last time before relenting.

It works. With a squeak and a breathless groan escapes you as you cum one final time, the peak bringing you deliciously close to passing out.

"There you go..." He removes the bullet from your overstimulated pussy and tosses it aside. He watches in amazement as you convulse and shake from the aftershocks of pleasure, his cum inside of you flowing slowly from your cunt onto the floor.

"I'll be right back" He says as he exits the room, leaving you alone to try and collect yourself. After a few minutes, he returns with a warm towel, gently dabbing at your pussy to clean you up. "That...that was incredible." he says panting as he finishes, placing the towel aside to help you up to your feet. His eyes never once leave yours, full of satisfaction.

Your legs give out suddenly, feeling as though they're made of jello, and you smile sweetly as he catches me.

"I've got you, pet, I always do." He catches you and helps to steady your legs. He then picks you up in his arms and carries you to the door and steps into the long hallway.

You look around, dazed and confused as to where he's bringing you only to see him open the door to the bedroom and continue into his large bathroom.

"Let's get you clean, I want you to be as comfortable as possible after doing such a good job." He sets you down gently on the edge of the large jacuzzi tub before unbinding your wrists and tossing the tie aside.

You watch as he begins to fill the tub, walking to a cabinet to get different bottles of soaps and oils, adding some to the water.

"Get in, let the hot water soothe your muscles." He offers you his hand to help you steady yourself as you slide into the tub. The soap and oil mix together, creating a relaxing and luxurious atmosphere.

You sink into the water and sigh, smiling as you feel Vox pull your hair up into a bun.

"There we go, nice and comfortable." He says smiling as he watches you relax. He continues to rub your shoulders gently and your back, making sure to ease any tension left in your body from the intense orgasm he gave you. "Did you enjoy today?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

You nod, eyes closed. "Very much sir..."

"I'm glad to hear that, you did amazing." He praises you as he moves down a little lower on your body, rubbing circles around your waistband and lower back.

"Anything specific you liked?" He asks, looking at you with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

You blush, embarrassed to be so crude when not actually in subspace. "I... I liked everything with the bullet..." You admit.

"Ah, the bullet, I knew you would like that." He says with a smile. "It was so much fun to watch you squirm and struggle against my tie while I fucked it deeper in you. You looked breathtakingly sexy."

You blush some more, sinking at only to seriously debate on completely dipping under the water to hide.

"No, don't hide from me now." He says with a smirk, leaning in and whispering in your ear: "Unless you want to go again. I can make you scream my name as loud as you want."

You look up at him with a slightly panicked expression, causing a splash, and Vox laughs, leaning in to kiss you.

"It's alright, just a joke, deep breaths." He whispers soothingly against your lips, then kisses you again softly, before sitting back and giving you a sweet look.

You smile contentedly at him and the two of you seem to just exist together in this moment before you see something shift in his expression and he loses his smile.

"Sir?" You ask, but he quickly stands and turns.

"I'm sorry, I just remembered something important." He says with a forced smile on his face. "Stay here and relax, I will be back soon." And with that, he leaves you in the tub without another word.

The minute the bathroom door shuts behind him he leans back against it, hand flat on his face. "What the fuck was that?" he asks himself, thinking back on your little moment. Was he catching feelings!?

No!? No, he thought, you were just a mind bogglingly good lay, that was all. Vox slumped down, sitting against the door to the bathroom with his screen in his hands.

“Fuck.”

Man I'm blasting through this bad boy. I hope y'all are enjoying it, because I know I am.

Taglist: @liveontelevision @bad-and-drawn-that-way @lonelynmisunderstood

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

Do Better

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Vox x Reader

Type: Headcanons + Drabble | ANGST

Featuring: Velvette

C/TW: swearing, suggested one night stands but barely, use of (Y/N), use of the word “gown” but reader written as GN. Kinda cheesy (sorry). Also not good (again, sorry).

In which Vox thinks he could do better and dumps you.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox was an insecure person at heart. He hid it with his egotistical asshole self but most people who knew him on some personal level knew that his ego was fragile and his insecurities were a seemingly endless list.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ One thing he had remained secure on though was you. The diamond of his eye, the light in the dark, the one thing that kept him in line even at his most vulnerable and defensive.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Of course, that security started to crack the more his power and influence grew. He kept you by his side a lot as his plus one to any event that himself and other overlords were often attending too. Product launches, gala’s, balls, big business parties, ect ect.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ However private or public your relationship was before you started being escorted around on him arm at these events, you certainly had the publics attention now.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ At first, Vox tried to keep anything negative said about you and your relationship offline as much as possible—even enlisting the help of Velvette at some point. He didn’t need or want any low life sinners and hellborns disrespecting his s/o and relationship.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ But again, his ego is fragile which makes getting to his insecurities all the more easy to access. As he deleted as much negative opinions on you and your relationship as he could, he found his mind wondering back to the comments. To the threads people made, to the posts, memes, ect

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He’s a big, successful hotshot. He’s one of the most wealthiest and influential people in the Pride ring. You however? Yeah, safe to say Vox is out of your league. You both knew this but never seriously acknowledged it. When it was acknowledged, it was Vox comforting you and promising and that no matter what you’d always be equals—regardless of who’s bringing home the dough.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You noticed that began to change however. It was decently subtle at first. Vox wanting you to wear more glamorous clothing at high profile events. Okay that’s fine… it is appropriate to look high class in these social events. But then he wanted to change your at home comfy wardrobe to bring more…fashionably rich? Like you’re some basketball spouse who’s always gonna be on camera and needs to look the absolute best, wealthiest, and professionally put together person—even on a lazy Friday evening!

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Then their was how he wanted you talk, how he wanted you to walk, how he wanted you to act, ect ect

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This of course upset you but what really ticked you off was when you’d find out about his use of his hypnotic eye. He’s always promised to never use it on you. And you always believed him. But things were different now. Too different and it wasn’t a good kind. At least for your relationship.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ When the subject was approached however, instead of talking it out like adults and listening to each other, a bigger rift was formed.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He dumped you.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You couldn’t even question if you were good enough because you both knew the answer; you weren’t good enough.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You refused to cry as you packed up your things from your shared bedroom. As much as you wanted to, you knew what kind of man Vox was to people who weren’t his beloved—of which you no longer held that title. He’s likely smirking as he watches you pack up, every monitor in his office showcasing a live video feed of his room. You tried to avoid showing your face to the visible cameras but Vox has always been a sneaky bastard—he probably has a couple hidden about.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ In truth he was smirking behind the cameras. How could he not? Look at you… looking all sad. It makes him chuckle.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You didn’t think this would last eternity, did you? He’s Vox; CEO, celebrity status, and one of the most fearsome overlords in all of Pride. He’s all about ditching the old and embracing the new. It’s time for a change.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ That’s what he’d tell himself to hype himself up some days.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He’s a great manipulator, so much so that he manipulated himself into thinking he’s just fine without you. You made no difference whether you were there or not. VoxTek is thriving as usual, all their creative and business endeavours are working out, he’s at the top of his game, everyone either wants to be him or fuck him—lives great. And he’s single now too!

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He put that to good use.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Only no matter how much tail he got, how good it may feel to not be so alone in bed all the time, how much it fed some part of his ego…it didn’t feel like he was living the life.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Well of course he is! He’s rich, famous, respected, feared, and attractive. What more can anyone ask for?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Sometimes he stalks your new home with his cameras. You know, to see if you’re coming home safe at night.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Your new place is small. It’s definitely a downgrade from the penthouse you used to live in with Vox.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox tries to use that fact as a reason to smirk and chuckle at how you’ve fallen—but it feels so forced and empty. So a laugh kind of comes out pathetically as he looks over the screens with a distant and sad look in his eyes.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Are those the groceries you’re able to afford? That’s…not as much. Though it could be because you’re single and just eating for one, right?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ …right?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ As your door locks, and the lights turn off, and Vox—through your phone—checks you’ve gone to bed, he powers off in his chair.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Please…don’t be in love with someone else.

Velvette huffs as she turns off her phone. Stupid marketing team—making her look like an idiot sometimes. She shakes her head before stepping off the elevator pad.

She glances at the comedically large monitor set up and rolls her eyes. Seems he’s fallen asleep here yet again.

“Always making me clean up your mess.” The doll grumbles, throwing the empty takeout containers into a trash can. Vox by this point is already powered off to sleep for the night though, but she knows him enough that he’s likely recording everything that’s happening so she holds back on berating him as he sleeps. She does not want to deal with a prissy Vox in the morning.

Velvette turns his large chair around, intending to grab him and return him to his room, but stops. On his screen is a video feed. Well, not exactly a video feed. Is this…?

“No fucking way.” The fashionista gasps to herself quietly.

She’s heard that sometimes Vox’s dreams will play on his screen but has never actually seen for herself. She’s had to lug Vox to his bed a handful of times since he dumped you but all those times the screens always just been turned off. Vox doesn’t dream much, he just powers off and sleeps until he boots up. But it does happen apparently.

The pinkette stares at Vox’s screen, curious to know what this threatening overlord dreams of. More money? More ways to hurt to people? Defeating and killing Alastor? To Velvette’s surprise though, a familiar face pops up.

It’s them.

(Y/n), was it?

Velvette didn’t really interact with you much. She had her own empire to run and Vox was weirdly protective of you. She knew of your relationship and the break up but never cared to really get into it. As much as she lives for the drama, anything involving her fellow Vee’s was just a headache so she didn’t usually bother.

She knew he was hung up on you. It wasn’t hard to tell no matter how much Vox tried to make it seem like everything’s fine. Locking yourself in your office and being too afraid to go into your penthouse because “(Y/n)’s not there”—a drunk confession he grumbled during a drunk night out with the Vee’s—is not subtle,Vox.

“Hey—that looks like a gown I designed.” Velvette muses to herself.

For on the screen, the very dream Vox is happily lost in right now, is the very person he dumped 3 months ago, wearing a beautiful wedding gown.

They’re wrapped up in Vox’s arms and he does not seem like he wants to ever let them ago.

If only Vox never let you go.

TMI—so I’m like a depressed person and it’s hard to write angst when all I feel at my lowest is literally nothing. Sorry. Tried my best lol