Chapter Text
Vox stretched and yawned. It was the second day he had woken before his scheduled startup, and it felt bizarrely like an accomplishment. Like he was so efficient he didn’t need alarms.
He slithered out from under the covers carefully so as not to disturb the slumbering Valentino. His clothes were still on the ground from the night before, and he brightened his screen to illuminate the area in search of some boxers.
As he pulled them on, he noticed there was a stiff patch where he had leaked precum during the over-the-clothes stuff he and Val had gotten into last night before the threesome.
Vox breathed in, vents clinking softly as they opened fully. His false-scent was soothing in all its musky, intrusive glory.
He padded to the bathroom, careful to avoid stepping on and further wrinkling his suit jacket. Vel had put the seat down, so she likely worked all night. She might as well own she is nocturnal and meticulous, but witches get defensive.
He lifted the lids and pulled out his 6.5-inch pink dick (girthy edition). He had forgotten he had worn that one. Vel was going to be in a good mood with him today.
He had more extra cocks than extra screens; they didn’t used to be interchangeable, but both of his originals had been patently unacceptable. As soon as he had cash, he had gotten the surgery done. That had been in ‘61. That medical practice was long gone now, exterminated forever ago. He felt a flush of pride at his own ingenuity and foresight. No one had known him then, and discretion was way better. Vel would not have survived.
The flow of piss faded to a trickle and Vox shook off and tucked himself away. Even his piss reeked of the imagined Alpha he had courted inside himself for all these years, and he closed his eyes in contentment for a moment before flushing and heading to the sink.
The water started cold, and he flicked at it with a claw tip until it warmed and steamed. He washed, then sprayed down and squeegied his screen and gargled some mouthwash. Now all he needed to start his day officially was his daily dose of Vel’s genius pheromone replacement formula.
He dressed and zapped into Velvette’s studio, where she had one bottle of each thing she brews for VoxTek bottled, labeled, and lined up for him to take.
“Vel, what a lovely new bottle shape you have here- design it yourself?” Vox asked as he picked up and examined the F-Ω pheromone bottle.
“Hey, Vee. Yeah, these are the final designs for now. I like the curve to them.”
“Yes, it is nice. You have really outdone yourself once again, my dear.” Vox pocketed all the samples and ran a claw along the countertop between him and Velvette. “You know, Vel…” He started slyly, “Val is still asleep. How funny would it be if we fucked withhim a little? Make it look like an alpha scented Angel or something?”
“Not funny at all. You know how crazy he is over his omega.” She set aside her grimoire and fixed him with a hard look. “I know you’re jealous he loves Angel still, but they were bonded way before we started up our weird thruple thing. They have an animal together! You know not to poke that. If you ever decide to settle with an omega, you’ll see why it ain’t as funny as you think.”
Vox rolled his eyes, “O-kay!” he fritzed the word out slightly, “Thanks for the quality control bundle, I’ll look into them now. Oh, and uh, Vel? Do try to lighten up.”
He zapped to the labs section, poured every bottle of the “quality control batch” down the on-suite bathroom sink, but for the M-α, which he surreptitiously drank. When the tilt of the screen made his face come back in view, he shot himself an exaggerated *gulp* Ahhh!
With freshly brewed male alpha pheromone replacement potion, his life was on easy mode. It takes anything he might emit and turns it into the hormonal chemical equivalent a true alpha would have. Vel never asked about how he tested the samples, and he has had years of minimal stress over subgender bullshit. There isn’t anyone in Hell he hasn’t fooled. Well. There was one, but he hadn’t been seen in Pride in seven years. Vox assumed that he likely had fallen to angels, despite Rosie’s eternal optimism.
He strode out of the men’s room. It was time to check today’s calendar and his emails.
His Voogle Calendar app showed his day was light, coffee with Vel, a meeting about the latest acquisitions and returns, and a sexy one-on-one with Val. Everything in his life was coming up aces. His armor was impenetrable, and his smokescreens had never been so thick.
But what good is a heart of stone without a soft life in which to rest it? His life had to be truly nothing but the best. It was the best safeguard against the loneliness and self loathing. There is nothing I am incapable of, save perhaps losing. I am at the top of my game, I get paid top dollar and I am, of course, top alpha in my penthouse bedroom.
Vel swished her cup back and forth so the latte slopped up the sides and splashed threateningly. Vox strode over. Vel always loved giving her AM updates over the small batch coffee sourced from Earth at no expense spared to the company.
Vox neatly pulled his chair out with a flourish and sat. Vel didn’t look up from her phone. Vox looked to the left of her, then to her right, bored already. “Hm Hmmph,” he said.
“Vox- I know damn well you use a speaker system, not a larynx, so shut the fuck up and let me send this last tweet.” Vox rolled his eyes. Perhaps that hot pink one wasn’t doing it anymore after all.
“What’s gotten into you? I mean, since last night that is…” he wiggled his eyebrows and accepted his usual from the waiter.
“Shut up!” Vel said, but she was grinning. “And you mean for the eight hours you’ve been asleep and I’ve been working? Absolutely nothing.”
Vox lowered the cup from his face and swallowed slowly. “Wanna change that?” he smirked and chanced a saucy tilt of his screen.
Vel flipped him off. “I’m exhausted. This fucking company would be the death of me if I wasn’t dead already.”
“Aw, Vel, it isn’t like we don’t overcompensate…”
“Oh, you sure do,” she quipped.
Silence fell, and Vox swallowed the jab calmly. If he reacted too much, it would be suspicious; still, his fans whirred on, and he sipped his coffee quietly.
Vel’s phone made a synthetic bird noise, and she laughed and flipped it over, setting it down at last. “Alright, Vee. Your brief.” She adjusted, still smiling over whatever she had just tweeted. “The articles about the inferiority of omegas have been incredible for socials. Oh, Mega Pain or #OMP has been trending all week and everyone wants a pet omega now; it’s becoming quite the craze.” Vox smiled faintly. He had interviewed Val and Angel for that special. It had claimed that omegas are like pets, but you can fuck them and they love serving bonded alphas most. “I mean,” She continued, “The claim they all have pain kinks was a stroke of genius. It has omegas outing themselves to us from everywhere. I mean, why would you tweet defenses and doxx yourself!?” Vel sniggered cruelly and swirled her latte again. “Poor little bastards.”
“Good, that's what I like to hear. Makes me excited for my acquisition meeting later…”
“Oh, yeah!” Velvette said, “Those numbers are gonna be good. So many are turning to Voxtek to keep them safe. Your trustworthy, I guess.” Vel cackled swirling her cup. She picked her phone back up and swiped around a bit as Vox smiled serenely at the thought. Money always tasted sweeter when it was tinged with the betrayal of weaker omegas.
“You know what else would be good to boost in the news to fuel the algorithms?” he asked her eventually, while gingerly poking a gold flake floating in his cup until it sank. “It is nearly the holidays…”
“Oh, yes. I already drew up your usual brag piece about how you spent Sinsmas cruising around Sloth fucking succubi. It just need to add this years special flair and we can run it. Your ratings are high right now, so jealousy plus sex pluse your face? We will make a killing. Speaking of killing, we should also air something about that serial slayer who is so violent against omegas.”
Vox sank another gold flake and licked the end of his coffee stir. “You mean the one who leaves a weird scar? Eh, I don’t know, we’ll send a guy to investigate, but three kills is hardly special. I mean, Val does that in a week sometimes.”
“Vee. They aren't just scars; they are permanent. This means Angelic weapons! And the bodies are always taken apart and strewn around too- just, trust me, Vox, this could become money if we can panic people.”
Vox sighed, “Alright, I’ll send two guys.”
Vox arrived slightly late to his acquisitions meeting; he had been reviewing some footage of Heaven’s newly wrapped Christmas feel-good film. It predictably had an overused concept and a shitty B-plot, but some of the shots had been nothing short of stunning. The romantic ending was visible a mile off, but still admittedly had a bit of a swoon-factor.
Vox walked over and stood behind the chair at the head of the table, resting his claws on the back of the CEO’s designated gaming chair.
Ethan scurried over with a clipboard that had graphs and charts. The beta handed them to Vox and backed off quickly.
“I already know my ratings are up, tell me how profit margins are looking.” Vox started.
There was a general shuffle in the room before one of the monkey demons stood and began rifling through copies of the graphs. “If I can direct your attention to page 4, graphic 7b, you can see by the axis of ‘gains’ vs ‘pains’ that our expenses are down, ratings are driving profits up. Graphic 8 shows our projections; we are a year away from breaking records in Pride for Wealthiest CEO of all time, 5 times higher than King Lucifer’s reported wealth and only 10 times lower than Mammon himself.
“Thank you, Jek.” Vox said, barely reigning in his excitement with such restraint it made his chest feel like a balloon. He was absolutely going to come up in Mammon’s next monetary report. Good, he hoped Mammon was scared. No one is safe from him, not even Sins, not even Gods.
“Right.” Vox said with a slight shoulder shimmy, which he seemed to believe was swagger, “Tell me about the actual acquisitions now. Velvette said numbers might be good this week because of our social media campaign. Is she right?”
The next monkey demon swiveled his chair, bringing the reports with him. “Yes, #OMP has omegas expressing concerns aloud with tweets like “well, I’m an omega and…” so on. Which drives traffic, clicks, and ad revenue sky high. The hysteria coupled with your campaign of Voxtek security has signups for the top-tier in trusts (Soul Contracts) on the uptick. In all, we have 13 brand-new omegas. All unbonded, all awaiting VoxTek orders.” He said crisply.
“Good. We will get each one a wealthy alpha benefactor fast- get their asses cleaned up, dressed up, photographed, and ready for next week's auction.” The demon agreed with a nod but shifted weirdly in his chair. “What?” Vox demanded. “Is there a problem?”
“One of them is pregnant.”
“Well, get him to medical and get it aborted,” Vox said testily. He hated it when underlings played games with information. “They can go to the auction next month.” Vox stared down at the insubordinate who hadn’t yet said ‘yes’. “Is that alright with you?” Vox asked after a beat, velvety voice full of venom.
“He doesn’t want an abortion…” the demon all but whimpered. Vox tried to calm himself with a simulated exaggerated exhalation through his nonexistent nose and wondered that someone would come into his boardroom and question his decisions over the desires of some shitty little omega slut.
“If I had cared what he wanted, I would ask,” Vox said patiently.
The demon swallowed hard, clearly afraid, and yet he spoke again, “Please, sir, perhaps Mr. Valentino might want him? He did some good films when Angel Dust was pregnant with Fat Nuggets…”
Vox felt hot rage pool in his ribs and threaten to make him flicker. “What did you just say?” he asked testily, tiny lightning strikes curling around him and striking out at the chair and the floor.
“Just that Mr. Valentino might- AAHH!”
The flicker of lights and agonized screams were so satisfying as Vox directed nearly a gigajoule of energy from his outstretched claws into the beta’s chest. When the lights recovered and came back on, the monkey, his chair, and part of the table were gone, and smoke was pouring out of the pile of melted plastic and ash on the floor. He brushed his hands together, zaps and sparks of power scattering off the tips of his fingers.
“Does anyone else have any ideas to share with me? Or with Mr. Valentino?” He grinned, displaying every tooth fully. Once the silence in the room met the beat that felt right, Vox broke the moment with a laugh.
“Right then! Email Ethan if you need me before the week is out. I have another appointment to get to, and I trust you all are competent enough to get a few omegas gussied up enough to pull in the big bucks. “He started for the door, pulling on his lapels to straighten his jacket. He swung the door wide and dramatically lifted his leg. “Oh- and advertise on all the usual channels. I need everyone buzzing about this.”
Vox strode into the penthouse bedroom. “Val! You’ll never guess!” He shouted.
Vel sat up with her hair in a protective bonnet and her makeup off, tiny pillow clutched in her left hand.
“Vox! If you don’t turn that light off!” Her arm wound back and aimed the pillow as she spoke.
Oops, Vox thought and zapped away into Val’s lovenest without touching the switch. She can get it herself.
“Voxxy!” Val called, all four arms wide as he lounged in bed with a book open on his lap.
Vox strode over, clothes starting to hit the ground. “Forgot Vel was sleeping upstairs.” Vox muttered as an aside, “But, you will never guess what happened at my meeting!” he crawled awkwardly over the heart-shaped, oversized bed in his boxers.
Val pointed at them. “Are those from yesterday?” Val sounded upset.
“Uuuh, yeah. I’ll take ‘em off.” Vox pulled back the quilted reddish covers and settled on the silky sheets. “But my meeting?”
“Yeah, okay, Papi, tell me about your meeting.” Val took his glasses off, set aside his copy of Lady Chatterly’s Lover, and lounged back against a stack of pillows.
Vox shifted forward and brought up a series of screens. He excitedly pointed at the hologram in front of them. “Look! The curve is so big you can’t read the axis without zooming in! I am so successful, I gotta put scaling on the numbers! Slap a natural log on that baby and BOOM!” The graph changed to show a much more manageable line with legible axes.
Val picked his glasses off the nightstand and adjusted them to his face, squinting at the screen. “Why is it so small now?”
Vox groaned. Leave it to an alpha to not understand the beauty of a big blank space waiting to be conquered. “Val, this is the biggest it’s ever been! With such a lovely curve headed straight at this little sweet spot here…” he pointed out a dot marked ‘goal’ in the upper right quadrant.
“Uhh, huh… that’s nice, but how about you get that big, fat curve back up and find my sweet spot though,” his voice low and sweet.
Vox sighed so he wouldn’t snicker, “You’re such a philistine,” he complained without any bite.
“Voxxy, I’ve told you before! I’m not from the Philippines, I am American, just like you!” Valentino pouted. Vox had to stifle a laugh.
“No, Val, Philistine means you don’t appreciate art. And you are American, but being from Florida is not just like me.”
Valentino made a sound of disagreement, one hand to his chest, and gave an exaggerated gasp of pain. “I am an amazing artist. That’s just not art. But this?” he pulled the covers back and revealed Vox’s pink dick, “Oh, that's not really art either. That’s also from last night! Can we pick a new one? I like to wash my toys between uses…”
Vox flinched at the series of insults and shimmied to the edge of the bed. “I am clean!” he protested. “I just didn’t switch it out yet. I’ll get the one you like.” Vox timidly got back into the same dirty boxers and zapped into the penthouse again.
The lights came up again, and he spotted the dresser drawers with his collection as Velvette mumbled and turned over. Vox instantly held his breath. Shit. How had he forgotten that she was up here that fast?! He elevated to his tiptoes and bent his knees, hands coming forward for balance, and made quick, short steps towards the drawers.
The top one had all the ones Valentino liked, the middle was Velvette’s preferences, bottom was a mix of things, including his original 1.5 incher. That was his personal favorite because it was the most sensitive one. He opened the top drawer, and it rolled open halfway and stopped hard on something, causing all the dicks to shift and make noise.
“DAMMIT VEE!” Vel was looking at him with crazy eyes. “Is it so much to ask!? A LITTLE fucking SLEEP?!”
Vox’s heart kicked, and he smelled a fearful alpha. The scent scared him more, even though it was just his own.
“I’m leaving!” He protested.
“You better! And this time, HIT THE LIGHTS!”
Vox grabbed at a cock blindly and pulled back with one that had a rather thick silicone outer layer with ridges and bumps down the shaft, and snapped the lights off. He was sneaking back to the door, his screen dimmed but still lighting his way, when Vel’s lowest tone stopped him in his tracks. “Step in here again before 6 pm and I’ll download a virus on you so bad you will have to send out for new parts!”
“Okay! I’m leaving- God, you crazy bitch.” He stepped into the hall and zapped back to Valentino.
“Got one!” He announced, waving the ribbed monstrosity in the air.
“Ooo, I like that one… go get it on fast- I’ve waited through enough of your bullshit.”
Vox’s smile dropped. He turned around and disengaged the pink one; it turned a ¾ circle and he pulled it off. The new one had a slightly less smooth mechanism to attach, and Vox made a couple of false starts, pushing in and twisting futilely. It finally came online, which was a relief because he did not want to poke the sleeping lioness again.
He spun around, arms wide as Valentino’s had been, and Val smiled softly. “Mmm. I like to watch you struggle- come get that thing in my face.” He purred. Something in Vox felt conflicted. On the one hand, that was a sexy thing to say, but then again, something about it rankled him.
He strutted over, leapt onto the mattress, stalked up to Valentino, legs wide and hips swaying. “Less of that, Val. I only want one thing.” He rested his palms on Val’s cheeks, “And that thing? Making you lose your mind on this cock.”
Valentino opened his mouth wide, tongue lolling out, full of false omega heat pheromones. Velvette goes nuts for his seductive saliva, as do all the alpha and beta demons who get a taste, but Vox has to fake his interest.
“Mmpff…” Vox groaned, “You know you drive me crazy with that… but I don’t want your mouth right now. I need your ass. Flip over.”
“Ooo, so romantic~” Valentino drawled, but his smile was still huge, and his eyes were as fixed on Vox as they could be.
Vox ran a thumb along Valentino’s cheekbone, allowing his smile to grow larger and larger. “Oh, I’ll make it worth your while…” Then he leaned in and kissed him. The venom flooded into his systems, infusing his blood with the kind of intoxicating chemicals that would drive an alpha to insanity.
Vox did a slow count to five as he sucked and nipped at Valentino’s kisses, then he turned into the animal Val was trying to elicit.
He manhandled Val forward, clutching hard at his shoulders and neck as he deepened the kiss. Valentino broke it and stretched, lounging back for a moment and basking in the lust and power. Then he rearranged himself face down into the duvet, spreading his wings luxuriously and lifting his hips so his back had a wicked curve.
Vox couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Valentino was always so dramatic. Vox bent forward, then dropped to kneeling between Val’s calves, lathing his tongue firmly over his cleft bottom to top, Val’s sweet musk making him dizzy. He shortened his strokes until he was rocking the tip of his tongue over Val’s hole, slow and steady. And Valentino, the consummate slut, was bucking his hips and already playing with his hardening cock.
Vox closed his eyes in contentment and slithered his tongue gently inside, then removed it and laving him up and down again. He repeated this until Val could take him deep. His screen was screen butting up against soft lavender skin. Valentino moaned, his breath catching as Vox gripped his hips and opened him up, static popping and snapping from Valentino’s cheeks to Vox’s.
Valentino struggled and squeaked, Vox chuckled darkly, low in his throat. “I’m not letting up until you loosen up.” he growled. Vox used his speakers to taunt, carefully wrigging his tongue tapping into a security camera to watch himself tongue fuck a huge submissive alpha who was all spread out and moaning for him. It made all his hidden senses come alive, this man loved him, treated him well, would even fill his empty mermaid purses if only he knew. But if he knew, Vox would kill himself from shame.
He shook free of that chain of thought and scooted forwards, bullying further into Val’s space, pinching and kneading at the meat at his hips and thighs. Another low grunt, and he pressed his screen flat against Val again, tongue spearing in and working obscenely against the gland inside to make Val spasm and grunt.
Vox shut his eyes and opened his vents larger so he could breathe better as he spelled out V-O-X with the tip of his tongue against Val’s soft inner button.
The V was nothing but a tease, Val squirms and wriggles trying to get him to put direct pressure on it as Vox brings his tongue front and back, always directing it to the side of where he needs it. Vox tightened his hands, using his thumbs to spread Val even harder and began the O phase, winding the firm, muscled apex around and around Val’s prostate though never supplying direct pressure. Val tightened and loosened, moth-like squeaks sounding muffled through bitten down pillows, when Val seemed in the verge of anger Vox started the final phase, drawing his tongue directly through the erogenous zone, X-ing through his spot as Val bucked and the harsh squeaking turned keening. Alpha pheromones poured into the room and Vox drew them in through his gills until his head spun, damn he smelled delicious.
He relaxed his tongue at last, and gently pulled back, taking a moment to let the woozy drunken feeling of happy alpha scent settle in his bones and make his cock fill in interest. Val clutched fistfuls of duvet and begged prettily for cock. Who was Vox to deny him? He stood and balanced himself roughly with Val’s hips. “You ready?” he whispered, voice gravelly with disuse and overuse.
Val’s only response was to spread his knees apart more, and speak a slew of purred Spanish, as though he had forgotten English already. Vox planned to reduce him to nothing but sounds, but first he spread a pump of lube on the massive ridged dick. “Good,” he purred though he had no idea what Val had actually said.
He aligned the tip of his cock rested against Val’s pucker, and Val fluttered open and shut, ‘kissing’ it three times before Vox applied careful pressure. It slid in buttery smooth, no resistance for the first two inches, where Vox rested it, waiting. The pressure around the tip felt good, but it didn’t inflame him like sex should.
After a few seconds Val’s body loosened even farther, then flexed and drew him in, sinking Vox’s cock inside fully, their hips meeting in a soft bump. That was his cue, and Vox reapplied his grip and brought a few wires to bind Val uselessly into the very position he already had assumed. Then he drew back and pounded in with a soft grunt.
Pumping in and out of an alpha was always a power trip, but Val in particular made it so titillating, with his moans and gasps and his begging for more. Vox let it go to his head as much as he let it go to his cock. This is how he liked to keep his alphas; underneath his hands, gasping for breath. Vox would never bow, never break, never know what it is to submit. Valentino may be a ten foot tall alpha with a harem of bonded omegas, but in here, around Vox he was nothing but a bitch.
Val had gone back to stroking at himself, and Vox allowed it. He was in a good mood today. There was no need to prolong this and prove anything Val already knew.
When Val came, it was copious as usual, and he shuddered and tightened and lost his words as usual, and Vox gently gave a few final rocks of his hips before sliding gently out. As usual. Val gasped a few broken sobs, his spanish returning in fits and starts. Vox settled back on his ankles and surveyed the ruinous fallout while stroking himself idly.
He eventually tired of Val’s dramatics, which he had to assume were overwrought for his own enjoyment, and padded his way to the bathroom to clean up.
When he returned he expected Val to be asleep, but he was smoking a cigarillo and playing with his chain. He smiled wickedly when Vox re-entered with the warm cloth, “Voxxy~ please come here, don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t finish…”
Vox sighed soft and fond, “Sometimes sex is about the feeling, the rush, not the satisfaction. Not every run has to have a finish line.”
Val pouted slightly. “What? No cum for me tonight? You know I like your taste- it is so exotic, almost like Angel’s.”
“Pfft, Val. Little tip. Try not to mention other lovers while trying to seduce me. I refuse to rise to being pitted against the likes of Mr. Dust.”
Val sneered, but he cleared a place for Vox to rest. They lounged until Val fell into slumber, and Vox felt supremely content with his afterlife. He was the biggest fish in this pond called Pride, and he was looking to jump the dam and become the biggest in Hell. Soon he would.