Running hell is hard work, and every now and then, even I need a blowjob. Lust is my domain, after all. But I don't want just any blowjob. It needs to be worthy of the underworld king.
I sit on my throne in the Royal Chamber of Pain and Miseryβ’. Black brimstone dominates the space, creating an enchanting contrast against the vibrant red accents sprinkled. It's an aesthetic.
A luxurious deep crimson carpet, woven with ornate patterns and intricate motifs, spreads like a rich sea on the vast floor. There's also a fold in it that I can never flatten, and it's frustrating because it stands out.
Massive curtains drape over the windows, their velvet fabric a luscious red that complements the brimstone perfectly, but they're a pain in the ass to open and close.
The walls are polished to a lustrous sheen, reflecting the soft glow of candlelight and casting an almost ethereal aura upon the room. This is because I have servants who scrub them for eternity. It's convenient.
The ceiling is high, with intricate molding and detailed plasterwork like Victorian architecture, which I allegedly stole. Allegedly.
Chandeliers hang from the ceiling, their crystal prisms refracting light into a dazzling display of colors across the walls. They were cool because they reminded me of kaleidoscopes.
Framed portraits of random people line the walls, gazing down upon me with eyes full of paint. Each frame is a work of art, intricately carved and gilded, showcasing my expensive habits.
This place is fancy and makes me feel important.
I appear as a handsome man with red skin, long curled horns, and a black three-piece suit. Look good, feel good, as some say. Speaking of feeling good...
I press a button on a table beside me, and a loud beep sounds like an elevator ding.
"Hello my eternally damned, how are we all doing this fine eternity? Suffering? Excellent, that's what I like to hear. I'll cut to the chase. I want a blowjob, so If you think you got what it takes to satisfy me, then please make your way to the entrance of the Royal Chamber of Pain and Miseryβ’. Form a line and one of my subjects will send you in one at a time. Thank you for your servitude."
I wait a few minutes, and a frail goblin limps into the chamber and speaks from the middle of the room. "My lord, the participants are here."
"Perfect, send the first one in."
"Yes, my lord." He hobbles off.
*Okay, let's get this show on the road. How should I sit?*
For the first pose, I lean forward with my hands clasped.
*Nah, too serious.*
Next, I put my left leg on my right with my arms behind my head.
*Nah, too relaxed.*
Footsteps alert me to someone about to enter.
*Fuck it, let's go with the classic.*
I keep my leg on my knee, elbow on the armrest, and head on my hand.
*Perfect.*
A woman with blue skin and short horns walks to the base of the stairs leading to the throne and kneels. She's wearing a thin fabric, barely covering her nipples and pussy.
*Classy.*
I can tell she's a succubus by her smell. Lust oozes from every pour in her flawless body. Of course, this whore is the first in line. She probably arrived as soon as I said "blow."
She's objectively sexy like every succubus: slim waist, wide hips, and large breasts. Succubi's appearances don't count for much, considering they can mold it into whatever they need to please their victims. What they can't change is what's underneath.
Also, succubi aren't robots. They like sex too, and each has preferences that get them off. They're like masseuses. They'll massage anybody because it's their job, but they're more eager to rub a nice ass.
I'm interested to see how she reacts to less-than-impressive equipment. After all, giving a good blowjob begins with the correct mindset.
"Hello, succubus," I say flatly.
"Hello, my lord. I am ready to service you."
"I'm sure you are. Alright, let's get this over with."
I snap my fingers, and my pants vanish, revealing a below-average soft cock resting on my thigh. I peer inside the succubus' thoughts, and the first words I hear are, "That's it? Seriously? Damn, this sucks."
Despite her inner monologue, her smile remains as she starts up the steps.
I hold up a hand, and she pauses.
"You fucked up already," I say.
Her face morphs into confusion. "My lord?"
"If you're disappointed with the size, then you're already in the wrong headspace for a blowjob," I say matter-of-factly.
"My lord, I am not disappointed. I'm honored. To pleasure the king of Hell is--"
"Blah, blah, blah--I read your thoughts dumbass. Are you really stupid enough to think you can lie to me--the Lord of Lies?"
Her mouth hangs open as she tries to find a bullshit explanation.
"The fastest way to kill sex drive is shame. Someone in your line of work should know that. Granted, your victims usually can't read your thoughts, but you knew who you were coming to blow sweetheart."
"I apologize, my lord. If you would allow me--"
"Nah, you killed the mood. Goodbye."