A Public Display

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Note: This chapter was originally intended to be a standalone, but I have expanded it. The vibe changes some as it progresses. So maybe give it a couple chapters.
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Alastor lifted the little enigma high enough to meet his eyes. "Now, Nifty, how many times am I going to have to rescue you from the depths of a toilet? That's the third time in two weeks!"

"Sorry, sir!" Nifty jumped down, scampering off after another bug down the hall.

Alastor shook his head, sighing. Even he would never understand the inner workings of that insane little mind. He turned, setting off in the opposite direction, but froze mid-step as a white hot wave of desire that wasn't his own shot through his body.

It couldn't be. She wouldn't. The rules were clear, included in the contract to prevent this very problem — not that the girl knew that.

Alastor's form dissipated, materializing in his dimly lit quarters. He was met with the sounds of soft moans coming from the direction of his canopied bed. He blinked, shocked — surely she couldn't be that blatantly impertinent? But there was no mistaking what he was hearing.

The girl had yet to notice him, so he stalked toward her silently, predatory intent in every step. As he neared the bed, Alastor found the girl laid completely bare — one hand at her mouth, doing little to muffle the noises emanating from her lips, the other quickly working herself toward orgasm. Alastor's smile turned sharp, eyes narrowing, his grip on his staff so tight that anything else would have snapped in two. He felt himself begin to harden — not from the display his little toy was putting on, no — from the anticipation of the show that was about to begin.

Quick as a snake, he sent two strands of shadow towards the girl, wrapping them around her wrists tightly enough to bruise. She gasped, her eyes flying open in surprise as he forced her hands above her head. Her breathing turned shaky; her eyes widened in fear at the sight of him standing in front of her, his ever-present smile having morphed into a feral show of his teeth. He knew his eyes glowed with barely contained rage.

"Alastor," she begged. "Alastor, I'm sorry, I swear I won't —"

Her words cut off sharply as he summoned a third strand of shadow to wrap around her throat, cutting off enough of her air supply to silence the desperate pleas. Alastor melted into his shadows, re-forming on the bed next to her. He laid on his side, his head propped up with one hand, smiling down at her as her naked body trembled before him.

"Were my rules not clear enough for you, girl?" His tone was frighteningly calm.

She tried to speak, shaking her head, but only a whimper made it past his grip on her throat. The shadows holding her down disappeared, only to be replaced by glowing green chains.

"You belong to me," Alastor said quietly. "Your pleasure belongs to me, and only me." He gripped the chains tighter, pulling them taught. "Make no mistake — should I be so gracious as to allow you to seek the release you so desperately want, it will be because it entertains me to do so. Your pleasure exists only to bring about my own."

"Alastor," the girl pleaded. He loosened his hold on her throat just enough to let her speak. "I know the rules. But it's been weeks since I signed my contract, and you haven't used me once.   I — I just needed — I just wanted you to —"

"Oh, you wanted some attention, did you?" The girl nodded, relief flooding her eyes. "Well," he replied in a cheery voice, "why didn't you just say so?" Alastor placed a hand on her arm, transporting them both through the shadows until they coalesced in his radio tower. He sat in his chair, legs crossed, smiling down at her sprawled on the floor in front of him. With a flick of his staff, the room came to life, ready to air. His little toy, still in nothing but his chains, looked up at him with a question in her eyes.

"You wanted attention," Alastor answered. "Now, you have everyone's attention." In reality, this channel would air only to Vox — just to get a rise out of him — but the girl didn't need to know that. The chains disappeared, freeing her hands. "Please, continue. But keep your eyes on me."

Her eyes widened, a mixture of desire and panic in her gaze, but she obeyed, her hand slowly moving back down her body. She gasped as her fingers found their mark, her eyes fluttering closed —

"Breaking the rules already, are we?" Alastor's voice had gone dark, the space around him warping from the emotion he was keeping hidden behind his smile. A tendril of shadow speared towards her, sharpening itself as it came into contact with her breast. The girl cried out as a small cut appeared, beading with blood that slowly dripped down her body.

She stared at him in shock, but Alastor simply brought the shadow back towards him, slowly running his finger through the blood before bringing it to his lips to taste. "You will do as I say or suffer the consequences. Count yourself quite lucky that I'm in a forgiving mood. Now, let's try that again, shall we?"

The girl slipped her fingers inside of herself, moaning, but kept her focus this time. Alastor leaned back into his chair, uncrossing his legs, and watched intently. He noted every movement, every rise and fall of her chest as she began to pant, the single drop of sweat rolling down her neck. He did nothing to hide the growing bulge in his pants, but made no move to find his own release.

A power flicker in the tower told Alastor that Vox was indeed hearing his personal broadcast — and wasn't happy about it. Alastor's smile turned wicked as he sent more shadows towards the girl. This time, though, they were gentle. They caressed down her body, lingering at her breasts, making their way up her thighs, flicking at her clit in time with the rhythm she had set with her fingers. Sex may not be something he'd ever engaged in, but he'd seen plenty of it in Hell to learn a thing or two.

Just as he'd expected, his ministrations brought the girl to the edge of her climax; her moans grew louder and more frantic, her legs trembled from the body's anticipation of release.

Alastor met the girl's eyes once more as the lights in the tower grew unbearably bright from a sudden power surge. He leaned forward, putting one finger under her chin, tilting her head up to face him fully. "Now, let go."

The girl whimpered, fingers moving quickly in one last burst as she tumbled over the edge. She cried out his name as she finished, causing energy to crackle through the wires of the studio, the lights burning to a near blinding level until they finally burst one by one. Alastor chuckled darkly as he put up a shield to protect them from the broken glass— his little toy had done well at her performance.

He let one single strand of shadow brush down her cheek. "Good girl," he praised. A tentative smile from the girl. Alastor leaned back once more, summoning the chains as he went, pulling her roughly forward by the throat until she was on her knees in front of him.

"However, if I ever find you in such a state again, I will not be so generous. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, Alastor. I promise, it won't happen again."

"Good! I'm so glad we could come to an understanding. Now, I have much to do and little time to do it, so I must be off! I'm sure you can find your way back to where you belong?"

"I have no clothes —"

"Yes, that is the unfortunate consequence of disrobing oneself." Alastor stood, straightening his jacket. "When I return, I expect you to be waiting for me in your proper place. Goodbye now!"

"But wait, what about you—?"

Alastor quickly faded into the darkness, escaping the question he did not want to answer. He re-formed alone, waiting in silence for his body to calm itself — a difficult task with memories of the girl spread wide before him running through his mind — but eventually he managed to regain control.

You are entering dangerous territory, Alastor, he thought to himself. Do not lose focus.

Pasting his smile into place, Alastor set off, resolved to ignore the girl once more. Signing the contract for her soul was a lapse in judgement — one he would not make again.

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