#shshsh

You had arrived in Hell only a few weeks prior, confused and utterly desperate for a job to make ends meet. Finding a suitable place to live had been hard enough, but trying to get a job to pay your already growing stacks of bills was highest on your priority list. One day, while out on a job scout, you’d come across Vee Tower. 

It stood before you, a glittering beacon of hope and debauchery. You’d almost started shaking with relief as you saw the signs on the lobby windows, “Trust Us With Your Employment, Hiring Today! Come inside for details.” You hadn’t bothered reading the small print at the bottom, detailing that you would have to sell your soul to work for one of the Vee’s. But that didn’t really matter now, did it? You’d do anything not to be destitute in Hell. That was a fate worse than death. 

Standing here today, you pulled down your too-short dress, your thighs flashing between your tall boots. The top you’d chosen highlighted your breasts, which you hoped would be your selling point. You didn’t even know if you had any marketable skills, but if Valentino would just give you a job in one of his movies? You’d be all set. 

“Excuse me, Miss, Mr. Vox will see you now,” said the stuttering fish demon as he pushed up his glasses. 

“What? My interview is with Vox?” Your voice shook as images of his handsome face rushed through your mind. Pulling down your dress again, you stood from your seat and walked nervously behind the other demon. 

“Yes, well, that’s the only position we need filling,” the demon said, his voice taut. “Mr. Vox is looking for… another assistant.”

“Oh,” was all you managed, your head beginning to spin with nerves. 

As the doors to Vox’s office slammed shut behind you, the cold air caressed your bare skin—the deepset blue of the lights refracting off the large shark tank in front of you. Shock.wav and Vark floated lazily through the water, their red eyes honed in on you, like you were fresh prey.

Swallowing, you looked around for Vox, not seeing him immediately until a wash of static flared over your skin. 

“Miss…come in!” Vox said, spinning around in his high-backed chair. A showman's grin was plastered on his face as he looked you over. Raising an eyebrow at your attire, his smile faded into a smirk. 

“I see you came dressed to impress today, very nice choice. Come closer and sit.”

You smiled shyly and walked over, his red eyes watching you closely. As you sat, a wash of peppermint and expensive cologne titillated your senses. The smell was like electricity, building in the clouds just before a storm. 

Vox continued to look you over, his smirk deepening as he noticed your breasts on display, and you quickly pulled up your shirt, trying to appear more professional. 

“No, no, my dear. If I am to be hiring you today, I need to see what you bring to the table.”

You blinked in surprise and shifted awkwardly in your seat, but didn’t respond. Vox’s eyes followed the movement of your breasts as you readjusted, his cyan pupils dilating. 

Vox cleared his throat, and his digital gaze flickered away before he sat back with ease and assessed you. 

“You haven’t said much. Am I to believe that you came to this interview unprepared? Or are you hoping I’ll just give you the job?”

You opened your mouth to respond, and Vox’s eyes honed in on your plump lips. 

“You know what, doll? Don’t bother answering that. I have a better idea for how I’ll assess your skills…” he said, an arrogant look on his face. “Get down on your knees, under my desk.” When you hesitated, static glitched across his features. “NOW!”

Your mouth stayed open in disbelief, but your mind flew back to the pile of unopened bills on your desk at home, and you obeyed. Sliding down from your chair, your bare knees connected with the cold granite floor, and you crawled under Vox’s desk. The darkness beneath was oppressive as you waited for what to do next. 

Vox pushed back from his position before you, his red eyes cold and detached as he assessed you. His left eye began to swirl as he looked down at you, and he began to pull down the zipper on his trousers. 

“If you want a job here, the first rule is, don’t make me wait,” he growled.

You whimpered and moved closer to him as he pulled down his pants. His bulge stared back at you through his gray boxers. You almost laughed at the little navy blue sharks spattered across the surface, but were quickly overtaken by his hand grabbing your hair forcefully and pulling you forward to his lap. The feel of his warm skin on your throat was surprising, never imagining that you’d find yourself here, in the lap of the Media Overlord. 

Looking up at his frigid stare, a flash of fear coursed through you at the look of disdain on his face. His claws still gripped your hair in an iron grasp, holding you hostage. He began to slowly move your head closer and closer to his bulge. You started to place small kisses on the inside of his thighs, leaving little nibbles as you went. 

As your small hand palmed his erection, Vox’s grasp on your hair grew tighter, and he groaned. 

“That’s it, doll, don’t make me wait any longer.”

Swallowing down your pride, you pulled down his underwear, and his navy cock sprang free, already leaking with his desire. Your eyes widened at the sheer size of it, and you looked up at him. Met again with his cold stare, tears sprang to your eyes. 

As your eyes searched his, after a few moments, the concentric circles in his left eye drew you in, your mind growing hazy. Any doubts you may have had began to float away, until all that was replaced was a growing need to please him. To taste his cum. To be filled with it, until it was pumped down your throat. Proof of your devotion to him. 

Shocks of electricity burned your skin as Vox growled again. “You’re testing my patience. Get down on your knees and worship me as your new God.”

You nodded numbly before you felt yourself being pulled roughly forward, his member invading your throat with a harsh thrust. Vox didn’t give you time to think as he began to thrust in and out of your wet, willing throat. The haziness in your mind pushed you further, and you allowed him to use you for his pleasure. 

You felt your head being held in place by his hands, as he greedily slammed in and out of your throat, not bothering to stop when he saw fresh tears springing to the corners of your eyes. In fact, you were sure that it only spurred him to go harder, seeing what a little slut you had become for him. The way he was using you for his own pleasure caused a wetness to grow between your thighs. Everything he was doing just felt so good. You fought against the urge to touch yourself, something mentally holding you back. 

“Oh,” he laughed, the sound sarcastic. “Is someone getting wet at the thought of being nothing more than a little fuckdoll?” Vox’s voice washed over you, as your hardened nipples rubbed against him with each thrust into your throat. 

Suddenly, Vox pulled out of your throat, a line of spit connecting you and his dick, and he let out another arrogant chuckle. Stroking the sides of your face, almost with tenderness, he raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Second rule is, you do what’s asked of you without hesitation. Get up,” he commanded. 

The floating feeling in your head enveloped you as you stood, waiting dumbly for his following instructions. 

“Oh, baby…” Vox hummed as his claws reached out for your cheeks to wipe away your tears and mascara. “You’re pathetic…” he cooed in a condescending tone. His hand moved down to your throat, his large hand grasping lightly around it, watching as the lack of air threatened to drop you again to your knees. 

Looking into his eyes, you felt the dizziness in your mind command you to lie over his desk, your head hanging off the side. You complied without hesitation. 

Vox looked down at you, a haughty smirk on his features as his sharp claws slowly scratched over the softness of your cheek. You blinked in fear, his hands nearly the size of your entire head, but the delicious haziness in your mind wouldn’t let you flinch away. The wetness between your thighs began to grow as he trailed the tips of his claws over the top of your cleavage, lightly grazing the suppleness there. Without warning, he ripped the front of your shirt and flimsy bra away, exposing your breasts. Your nipples hardened in the cold air of the room, your chest heaving with fear or excitement; you weren’t sure. 

You gasped, but still you did not move. Your head hanging off the side of his desk, you were helpless as he chuckled, the sound haunting in your own ears. 

“Rule number three,” Vox said as he teased around your nipples. “If I want to use your slutty little body any time I want, you say what, my little pet?”

Vox kept tracing circles around your nipples, the sensation driving you insane. His fingers began to trace down the line of your stomach as he walked around the desk, like a predator circling his prey. 

Static flickered across his face as you didn’t respond right away, your mind too hazy. Circling back to your face, he stared down at you, a look of contempt on his features. 

Grabbing your face roughly between his fingers, he spat in your face. “You answer me when I speak to you, brat!”

Not giving you a chance to respond, his cock rammed down your throat again, violent as he fucked your throat. “When I say I want you to use you as my own personal sex toy, you say what?” He growled as he pummelled your poor throat. Humming around him, you tried to answer, the sound coming out muffled. Vox grinned down at you and began to punish your throat even harder at your response. “Good girl,” he purred, flickers of electricity burning your skin at his touch. 

His balls slapped against your face in a punishing rhythm, and he grabbed for your breasts. Using them as an anchor for his violent thrusts, he pounded into you, playing with your nipples as he did. The sound of your gagged throat echoed through the cavernous room, mixing with the frenzied moans coming from him. 

“Touch yourself for me, cum for me while I use you like the whore you are. Then we’ll see if you’re worth hiring!” Vox grunted as he got off to using you. 

Your hand snaked down to your clit, and you rubbed furiously, the wetness between your thighs growing with each moment. The building pleasure as Vox used you as a personal toy made it hard to see. The lack of air from his relentless face fucking and his hands on your breasts made your already dizzy mind hazy with pleasure. 

Pounding into you deeper and deeper, you felt as his cock began to convulse, and he bucked his hips, without warning. Sending shocks of cum down your throat, you felt pin pricks of electricity leave his fingertips as he came down your throat. His gruff moans filled your ears, the sound intoxicating. A voice in your mind coerced you to let go, and the sensation was enough for you to reach your own climax, and you came all over your desperate fingers.

Vox pulled out of you, his chest heaving, his eyes returning to normal as he assessed you lying over his desk. Makeup streaked, clothes ripped, hair askew, and freshly fucked, you were the picture of an obedient, needy slut. 

Controlling his face, he looked down at you with scorn, shocks of static coursing over his features.