The Hell Lord's Prize

03

Alastor's POV:

I can't help but feel attracted to the terror on my slave's face. He didn't believe that demons were real until I brought him through the portal, and even now I'm sure he's not completely sure.

"I can't be here!" my slave exclaims after we've gone through the large door to the throne room where I spend a lot of my time. "I have... homework."

I burst out in laughter. "Trust me, you will have plenty to do here," I say, guiding him through the side of the throne room to my master bedroom.

"Like... a job?" Gabriel asks.

This poor, idiot child.

I mean, I suppose it could be a job, if he considers prostitution without being paid a job. Ah... what do humans call it? Sex slavery?

"If you consider pleasuring me a job, then sure."

It takes him a second to understand, but I can tell when he does, because his eyes blow wide and he backs away from me, surely attempting to run.

Too bad portals are the only way out of Hell and he doesn't have the ability to open one.

"You cannot run," I inform him, reaching out and grabbing his arm, dragging him after me. "It really is a shame that your parents are such terrible people... for you, at least."

He glares at me. "Let me go home!" he orders.

It would be sad if it wasn't so funny.

"No," I respond, smirking.

"Yes!" he yells, refusing to enter my bedroom. "I want to go home and you are going to leave me alone."

I roll my eyes. "Well, I want you naked on my bed, and I always get what I want," I growl, making my slave pale.

I almost feel bad, but I push the feeling away. I'm the lord of Hell and he's in existence for the purpose of pleasuring me. So, I pick up my slave and toss him on my bed, pinning him down. I strip him naked, staring at his small, lean body which is perfect for me to take.

I've been waiting fifteen years for this, and what's he going to do? Call his human police force on me?

"Don't!" he shrieks when he realizes I'm going to use him the way I want. "Let go, please!"

I raise my hand to slap him so he falls silent, but something about the way he's hyperventilating almost scares me. I growl at him, at myself.

Why am I holding back?!

"You smell disgusting," I snarl, climbing off the bed and grabbing a towel that was hanging up on the wall. "Go shower."

His eyes are blown wide and he's panting and shaking in fear. "Wh-What?"

"You had a sports match and I will not dirty myself by fucking someone who smells gross. Go shower, I have work to do!" I order, raising my voice and making him run off.

Truth is, he actually smells pleasant. Even though he had his sports match, he does not smell like sweat and a bad odor. I could have fucked him and felt good about it physically, but there's a strange emotional weight in my head and body.

Something I do not have experience with and do not enjoy.

I march out of the room and sit in my throne. A low ranking demon appears, bowing at my feet as it serves me a shallow cup of amber liquid.

"Find my parents," I order, making the demon hop up and bow again. "Now!"

It vanishes and I am left alone again. Yesterday, or any day before, I would have fantasized about having my little slave sit on my cock while I relaxed on my throne, but now entertaining that idea makes me sick.