Work Text:
“Comfortable, baby?” Valentino purred, drawing a claw along the skin between Vox’s shoulder blades. Vox shivered.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Vox wore a blood red lace teddy with gold accents threaded along the edge of the cups in a repeating chain link pattern. He felt deliciously exposed before Valentino, who was still dressed as he drank in the sight of his lover. He felt overheated and an internal fan was whirring hard to try and cool his head. He’d felt hot ever since Valentino had slid the box over to him at dinner with a sly grin, gently coaxing him to open it. When he had, he’d slammed the box shut again, face heating up to approximately one thousand degrees.
“I know I said that little getup was a gift for you, but it’s really a gift for me.”
Valentino traced the top edge of Vox’s screen with a dainty finger before adding a little pressure that told Vox what he needed to do. Vox sank to his knees obediently, looking up at Valentino. Valentino smiled wickedly and slid his thumb into Vox’s mouth, relishing the greedy way the TV demon started sucking. Valentino pressed his sharp claw into the center of Vox’s tongue, pinning the muscle as it wriggled. Vox gagged slightly as Valentino pushed his thumb past where he could tolerate. Valentino smiled wider as he watched Vox desperately try to suppress a retch, the muscles in his stomach rolling forcefully under the lace. He pulled his thumb out, a long string of hot saliva suspended in the air. Vox leaned forward to try and reclaim the digit in his mouth.
“Eager, aren’t we?” Valentino stepped away, chuckling, and undid the latch on his coat. Vox eyed his boots and swallowed thickly. He knew those boots, he had given Valentino those boots for this express purpose, and the knowledge sent an electric thrill down his spine. Valentino smiled wickedly at Vox, noticing the focus of his gaze. The pimp shrugged his long jacket off until it hung by his elbows, letting Vox see the whole ensemble.
Val’s set of lingerie was a midnight blue accented by vibrant electric shades that mirrored the exact colour that outlined the features of Vox’s screen. A latex under bust corset gave Vox a tantalizing glimpse of Valentino’s pierced tits, the heart-shaped rings flashing in the low light as he moved. A panty and garter set connected to lacy thigh-high stockings that rose just above the top of the boots, and Satan, the boots. Vox had thought about them so much since he bought them he could cry at finally seeing them in person. Slick blue latex with needle-sharp eight-inch heels and glittering heart-shaped gold toe caps, boot shaft held taut against Valentino’s thighs by the garter. Vox wanted to lunge forward and run his hands all over Val’s body—the bowed arc of his thighs, the curve of his ass, the flat plane of his stomach—but he had to be good. He had to be good to get his reward and he knew Valentino was strict enough to deny him all of it.
Vox slid lower on his knees, thighs parting in a desperate bid to make contact against the floor.
“Someone’s excited.” Valentino said, peeling off his coat all the way and tossing it to the side. Vox felt his skin flush hot again as his cock twitched at the jibe.
Valentino came close and ran his fingers along the top of Vox’s screen, sharp nails scraping against the casing. Vox’s eyes focused on Valentino’s lace-covered cock in front of his face, hoping Val would feed him his cum like he usually did. Vox hissed as the hard, cold toe of Valentino’s boot kicked against his cock. He bent forward, clenching his hands into fists, and was promptly sent sprawling onto his back by a shove from Valentino’s knee.
“Hands at your sides and knees open, baby.” Valentino commanded and Vox compiled, gritting his teeth. He could hear the piercing click of those damn heels as Valentino stepped forward.
“Good boy.” Vox didn’t get a moment to savor the praise as Valentino’s toes pressed hard into his balls.
“What would people say if they knew their almighty Overlord was so pussywhipped?” Valentino said, voice dripping with malicious glee.
Vox was powerful, woven into the fabric of daily life in Hell with a tech empire beyond compare. His products were household names and they brought him such vast amounts of juicy, useful data that could be used as bartering chips or sold for a high price. He was greedy, arrogant, and unstoppable. Only Valentino could bring him to heel, to kneel, to beg for indignity, to be crushed under one of those sharp-heeled boots.
“Should we show them, Vox? Set up a camera and let them watch you debase yourself?” The toe of the boot ground down and Vox bucked his hips, writhing from the pain. Valentino switched to dragging his foot up and down the length of Vox’s cock. The sensation of the lace scraping against his skin combined with the pain of the pressure was overwhelming and Vox let out a whimper.
“Don’t cry, baby. You should be happy. I’m doing this for you, after all.” A stiletto came down and dug sharply into his balls. Vox gasped and clenched his fists so hard his nails pierced his palms. Tears pricked at his eyes. Valentino rolled his foot so the heel was stabbing one ball and the other was crushed under the front of the boot.
“Fuck, Val, that hurts—“
“Oh, Voxy, you’re so cute when you cry.” Valentino cooed. He took his foot off and Vox sighed before he brought his foot down on the sensitive, weeping head. Vox was torn between adoring the friction and loathing the pain. He rolled his hips into Valentino’s foot, desperate for both.
“I’m not even sure you deserve this, baby, you seem to be enjoying it too much.” Valentino pushed his boot down the length of Vox’s cock, stretching the skin painfully tight. Vox groaned and then cried out as Valentino pressed down with so much weight that he was certain he’d snap in half. Valentino stabbed his other ball viciously with the heel.
“Val!” Vox choked out. He was hot with pain and cold with sweat. He wrapped his hands around Val’s boots, pulling down for more weight. He felt like he was going to fucking explode, like Val was going to burst him open like a balloon.
“Oh, you can still speak? Disappointing.” Val tutted and pulled his leg away, making Vox gasp at the loss. The TV demon's claws scrambled on the floor as he forced himself not to chase after Val. Laying on the floor as he was, he couldn’t quite tilt his head to see what the pimp was doing. Out of the corner of his eye, Vox watched Valentino peel off his underwear, expertly unhooking and rehooking the garters.
“This should quiet you down.” Valentino knelt over Vox’s face and tucked Vox’s screen behind his knees so was trapped between his calves and thighs. Vox’s hands roamed Valentino’s thighs reverently as he lathed his tongue against Valentino’s cleft, savoring the taste of skin and soap and sweat. Vox heard a plastic creak as Valentino’s weight tested the tensile strength of his screen—it would hold up, he had it specially made but the threat of fracture was thrilling.
Valentino’s sigh of pleasure went straight to Vox’s dick. Valentino slowly rocked his hips, sharp claws tracing the sensitive seams of Vox’s screen encouragingly. Vox used his arms to pull Valentino closer before placing sucking kisses on his balls.
“How low does that mouth go, baby?” Val asked, his breath hitching as Vox took the hint and darted his tongue over his puckered ring. “Yeah… that’s what I thought.”
He bore down on Vox’s face, moaning loudly as the media demon’s eager tongue breached him. Valentino hissed and his claws dug little grooves in Vox’s screen casing as he pulled him closer, deeper. Vox grabbed the pimp’s ass with his hands and squeezed hard, hips making tiny thrusts into the air of their own accord. Sometimes Vox swore he could spend the rest of eternity exactly like this, trapped under Valentino, forced to pleasure him endlessly and never getting the gratification of his own release.
Vox’s hands started creeping along his stomach, down to his cock. Just a quick touch. Please. But his hands were caught by Valentino’s, who pinned his arms to the floor at his sides.
“No you fucking don’t,” Valentino laughed breathlessly, rocking his hips down harder. Vox moaned, feeling his own humid breath puff back against his screen. If someone told him when he was alive he’d be queening one of the biggest porn producers in Hell he’d have laughed in their face.
Valentino finally slid down Vox’s body and straddled his hips, placing hands on either side of his head and on his chest. One hand reached back and lined the head of Vox’s cock up with his entrance.
“Do you think you deserve this?” Valentino asked.
“No.”
“I don’t think so either.” The tip of Vox’s cock bumped against Valentino’s hole and he whimpered. He didn’t deserve it but he wanted it so fucking bad that not getting it would surely kill him a second time.
“But I do think I deserve it.” Valentino pushed back and sank completely to the hilt and Vox groaned, claws scrabbling uselessly against the floor. Valentino looked down at him with a cruel, self-satisfied smile as he lifted back up. Vox placed his hands on Valentino’s thighs as the pimp gyrated, feeling the sensation of the latex shifting, Valentino’s muscles flexing underneath.
Watching Valentino ride him, chasing solely his own pleasure, using Vox as he would a toy, made Vox feel shitty and insignificant and so fucking turned on. He liked watching Valentino—the way the muscles in his thighs worked to move him, the way glistening sweat dripped down his chest, the way his claws dug bloody points into Vox’s skin. He squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed by the sensation and sound. Valentino laughed.
As Valentino picked up speed, his gasps and little stuttered curses filled the air. He felt so good, so tight, so hot around Vox. That Valentino had thousands of practiced whores and a warehouse of toys that boggled the imagination and still chose Vox—it made his chest hurt from gratitude and adoration and fear. He loved Valentino more than anyone else in Hell. The way Valentino could strip Vox bare in mind, body, and soul was cathartic and comforting and completely terrifying. Valentino made him feel good in a way that made all the bad melt away.
Vox breathed as he watched a long string of red drool drip from Valentino’s open, panting mouth to Vox’s chest. Vox knew he was hitting Val’s pleasure center by the unbridled, furious way Valentino moved. His claws dug long, stinging lines across Vox’s chest.
“Fuck, Val.” Vox dug his claws deeper into Valentino’s ass, helping him come down harder.
“Don’t you fucking come yet.” Valentino hissed. Vox wanted to scream with frustration, to beg like a bitch, but knew he had to do as he was told or get nothing at all.
Valentino bore down on Vox, squeezing, claws digging deep into Vox’s skin as he braced. He came with a raspy moan, long ropes of sticky cum landing across his hands and Vox’s chest. He looked down at Vox as he rode out the aftershock, tilting his head. Vox swallowed thickly. Valentino grinned and seated himself fully, placing a hand right over the hollow at the base of Vox’s throat.
“Now.”
Vox’s vision fractured and he used his hands to move Valentino’s hips in a desperate bid for friction. A high, piercing tone filled his ears and his screen blurred into static as he came, moaning Valentino’s name in a perverted, distorted miserere. Electricity shot up his spine and he arched his back to a near painful point, trembling from the overwhelming force of his orgasm.
Both men panted into the following silence. Sweat dripped from Valentino onto Vox that felt cool as rain against his heated skin. Valentino leaned back, hands on his and Vox’s thighs as he considered the demon below him. Vox’s fingers traced the top of the boots reverently. This was one of the best purchases he’d made yet. As long as Valentino was willing (and he always was), Vox would buy him whatever goddamn boots his fiendish little heart desired.
“You’re going to have to clean up the mess you made, you know.” Valentino smiled wickedly, pointed claw dragging a circle around Vox’s nipple. Vox grinned up at him.
“Better get started.”