shush-puppy side blog just for art and fics there will be mature themes Main Blog https://www.tumblr.com/shush-puppy AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ishi23
Velvette is fed up with Valentinoâs tantrum and takes care of it herself instead of calling Vox. VelVal. Degradation. Choking. Stepping. Velvetteâs Models die.
Velvette pinches between her eyes, trying to dull the throb of a headache that was setting up shop right behind her eyes. The spider was a dead man walking, she was going to turn that fluffy twink into a nice scarf-
A loud beat of wings and one of her models falls to the floor in a gory heap, ruining the beaded dress meant for her new show, scattering strays of the 6000 or so glass beads sheâd personally hand-sewn across her studio floor.
She sees red. Her head snaps around in a grotesque 180 on her shoulders, following Valentinoâs shadow as the mothra-looking bitch snatches another model into the air by their hair.
Yards of fabric crack like a whip from the large rolls on the walls, they coil around one of the porn overlordâs wrists and pull him sharply to the ground with a startled chirp. It wraps and binds like a snake once heâs on the ground, arms covered in her headliners blood tied behind his back and a strip pulls tight around his head until he has to open his mouth to it or risk buckling his teeth in.
âSit.â She hisses when he wrestles up onto his knees.
Valentino states at her, wide eyed and gobsmacked, but stops moving. He looks from her face twisted in rage to her fists shaking at her sides, manicured nails drawing blood in her palms. A look of 'Iâm in danger' dawning on his face.
Slowly she stalks towards him, heels loud, crushing the beads under them. His eyes flick up and over her shoulder to the corner of the ceiling. The zooming in of a camera whirs.. but Vox doesnât come to his rescue and Velvette doesnât call for him.
Velvette grabs his twitching antenna and pulls his head down to look at the mess of gore, fabric, and sequin thatâs ruining her floor and, more importantly, her shoes. âI should rub your fucking nose in it like a dog. I have a show, Val!"
She lets go just to get her hands on his neck and growl in his face. Her hands are too small to reach around but she digs her nails in for purchase to squeeze what she can. He blinks slowly before his eyes slit, grin curling around the cloth between his teeth. Velvette pushes her thumbs pointedly against his Adamâs apple, warning him to stay down, donât try anything.
He doesnât. An insectoid purr hisses between his teeth and he leans into her grip, helping her choke him until she feels something under her hands shift and hears a crackling in his sigh.
âGoddamnit, Val, youâre a fucking freak.â
His feathery antennae tilts towards her, stroking soft as a kiss over the red flush of anger on her cheek, chittering and purring sweet noises at her that soothed and melted his whores.
It doesnât work nearly as well on her.
Her sharp heel comes up to dig hard and mean at the tented front of his pants, his punched out groan doing more to smooth her ruffled feathers than the display of depraved submission.
âThis what you wanted?â She hisses, grinds with her full weight until heâs chirping high and sharp and trying to jerk his hips away. She digs her nails harder into his neck and shaking him. âStay. Stay still and let me clean the shoes you ruined. Thatâs not asking too much from you, is it? Youâve never had a problem being a fucking cum rag, you can let me do this.â
He whines, a wrecked and wounded thing, but spreads his knees and holds still for her. With more force than she needs and a few sharp kicks she wipes the mess off the bottom of her shoe on his white pants, right over the strain of his cock. Heâs panting hard around the gag, cherry red dripping off his chin, and straining hard against his fly where she can feel it jerking under her heel.
She stops when the red stops coming off, lets her foot rest on him and relishes in watching him sweat it out for a moment before he dares to look back up at her.
âAre you sorry?â
A desperate nod
âAre you going to whine like a goddamn dog if I leave this?â She pushes down again
He nods again and gives her the most pathetic look, all glassy eyes, and drooping antennae.
Ugh
With the choke hold she has on his throat she pulls him in, bringing his face in between her small tits. She taps her foot sharply against the bulge of his cock âGet moving, Iâve got to get this mess back on schedule.â
With an obscene groan, he starts to rut, riding her dainty little foot fast and hard. She lets go of his neck while he works and leans her arms on his hunched shoulders so she can get her phone out and start getting her shit in order.
When Vox unplugs from work for the night the lights in Valentino's room are already out. Only the pink wash of Vee Tower's lights and his own dim screen guide him to the bed where he hears gasping and the sound of something rhythmic and wet.
"I thought youâd be asleep by now. Having fun?" Vox asks into the dark as he shrugs out of his clothes.
The answer comes on a choked, sobbing gasp "No"
ââNoâ?âVox's hums, screen brightens as he crawls up on the stupidly large bed to see the moth's face.
Tears stain and mat the fine, thin fur around his eyes, down his cheeks, from the corner of his eyes to his temples. The pillows and sheets are a wreck from trying to find a position where he could close his legs tight enough to block his prehensile cock out of his cunt before giving up and laying spread out and defeated as he is now. The circles under his eyes are so dark, making him look haggard, exhausted, and weak.
âI canât- it wonât- goddammit I canât make it stopâ Valentino shouts through his teeth, gripping and tearing at the sheets.
âI know. Poor baby.â He coos, petting a cum slick, trembling thigh.
And he does know. Heâs watched it build all day leaned back in his chair with his hand down the front of his pressed slacks. The nervous glances Valentino kept directing down at himself as he crossed and uncrossed his legs, calling for constant breaks to go in the back and bend over his vanity to get railed by his own restless cock, fumbling at his toy rack trying to find something anything to stuff in his pussy that his dick couldn't slip in beside hoping it would give up. It never did.
The obscene, wet rhythm quickens, the moth hiccupping punched out little 'no no no no's as his lower hands shoot down to grab at his cock. But the damn thing is rooted right where it wants to be, curling upwards hard and anchoring against the strangling grip. Whether he wants it or not- and fuck he doesn't- Valentino cums, biting into the ball of one hand, sobbing and shouting as another orgasm is wrung out of him.
Vox spreads a hand across Valentino's shivering belly, petting the tight muscles beneath that bunch and cramp in the aftershocks. "Breathe, Val. Breathe."
He doesn't. He canât. The air won't come, between his hand clenched in his teeth and the sobbing all he can manage is choked hiccups.
Vox gently pries the hand out of his mouth "Do you want your cage?"
Val hates the device even though they'd had it custom fitted for him so it was as comfortable as it could be. The vulnerability of admitting he needed a cage to control his own body was too humiliating- too terrifying. Even brought to tears and his pussy overworked and raw he looks like he wants to say no, even starts to shake his head.
But then his eyes go wide, fat tears welling up while his lower hands scrabble between his legs again. It's not done. There's not much movement of the shaft that Vox can see other than lazy wriggling, but he knows better. He's had that insatiable thing inside more times than he can count, he knows what it's up to.
And yes, with his screen casting shadows down the length of the moth's body, he can just make it out. The pushing, the digging, making just the slightest bump low on his pelvis. Valentino's cock roots hard against his prostate, pushing against the nerves in a loop of it's own pleasure.
Valentino's breath hitches on a sob and he covers his face behind his hands, "..get it.. Vox fuck please I'm losing my goddamn mind."
"Shh I know, I've got you. Daddy's going to fix it." The cage is conveniently lying in 'fun drawer' of the nightstand, kept easily within Vox's reach.
Vox moves from Val's side to between his legs, stretching out on his stomach and pushing his thighs apart. The media overlord replaces Valentino's grip on his cock with his own, hushing the distressed whimpering as he pumps the base slowly, trying to ease it out bit by bit. Cum froths around the shaft and drips from the moth's swollen pussy, pulling out before driving back in stubbornly. He rubs and teases but an unsatisfying hand job is not enough to tempt it out. He holds Valentino's wide, teary eyes as he teases his tongue along his stretched pussy where the moth's cock is buried.
"Oh fuck" Valentino jerks, the tips of his wings flapping loud against the bed as he grabs at Vox's monitor "no wait goddamit Vox wait-"
Cables wind around the moth's hands before they can shove his screen away and hold them oh so terribly gently "Hush, baby, let me work. You want it out donât you?â
Val's lip wobbles pitifully before biting down on it and turning his face into his neck fluff.
"There's my good boy."
Vox lowers his head again and gets to work. He licks hot and wet down the length of Valentino's cock, alternating between laying sucking kisses and dipping his tongue into his pussy to follow along the throbbing veins. It writhes, fucking into the soft cushion of it's favorite hole and arching back for the attention of Vox's static-laced tongue.
While Valentino is damn near wailing, Vox is cooing at his cock like a pet. Sweetly scolding it for what a naughty thing it was making a mess he had to clean up. Mummering over the slick skin for it to be good and come out to play, ignoring the choked, humiliated pleas to "not talk to it like a dog". But, like a dog, it wriggles and slides out excitedly- wagging- for Vox's attention.
It leaves a wet trail across Vox's screen as it tries to find the tongue it wanted to play with. The media demon lets it slide into his mouth and curl with his tongue, sucking on it- kissing it not unlike the way he kisses Valentino.
"Papi" He feels the cables shift, looking up to see the moth pulling at the slack to cover his face.
Vox fakes a hum of sympathy and slowly pops off, "It's almost over, Val. You're doing so good. You need to calm down so it'll fit in the cage, yeah? You can give me just one more can't you?"
"No no no I can't-" Valentino babbles, his legs clenching around his partner's shoulders, sharp claws and feathered fur of moth feet scrabbling at his sides
"You can, baby, I know you can. One more and we can lock you up and you can go to sleep. I'll make it quick." Vox promises, pumping two fingers into Val's fucked out cunt and swallows his cock again.
The high-pitched wail is insectoid, a grinding chirrup in the undertone. Vox feels the cock bulge in his throat, watches the short fur up the length of his long body stand on end, and tastes demonic power on his tongue. For a moment he wonders if Val will turn, let the overwhelming sensations push him too far, snap his restraint on his true form. Now that would be a sight. That monster cowed and whimpering like a heating bitch on it's own cock. He files that idea away in his wish list folder for later.
But the moment passes and the flare of power fades. Valentino goes kitten weak, simpering and mouthing at his own hands, pink saliva making a wet mess of his fingers. Vox rewards him by curling his fingers inside that sweet, swollen pussy, fingering low vibrating shocks into his nerves until the moth is howling and slick drips down his wrist. The cock in his throat flexes in little uncoordinated jerks, so so close.
"Give it up for me, Val." He croons through his speakers as he sucks harder, static sparking on his tongue and down his throat, knowing it was too much, "Let go."
He does, sobbing and choking on Vox's name like a prayer for mercy.
It's a prayer he feels gracious enough to answer. Whispering how good Val had been for him he pulls off and out to hold the cock, lazy in it's afterglow, and pats down the rucked sheets for the chastity cage. It goes on easy with so much slick and cum on Valentino's skin and on Vox's fingers. When it locks with a click Valentino shudders, still sniffling pitifully but for the first time since he left for the studio that morning the tension eases and the tense lines of his long limbs go loose.
"You did so good for me," Vox tells him, gathering his moth up and moving him to the other side of the bed and off of the soaked sheets. He'd call Kitty in to change the bed tomorrow.
"Y'didn't answer my calls." Valentino slurs accusingly as he drags Vox down on the bed with him. His face pinches and a few more tears well when he rolls onto his side, leg spasming when it puts too much pressure between his legs.
Vox cups the back of one long thigh and eases it over his own hips, letting it rest on him so Val could cuddle closer, head laying heavy on his shoulder. "I was so busy, baby, I didn't know you needed me."
He did. But where was the fun in rescuing his princess if he wasn't sobbing and desperate? He'd make it up to him tomorrow, call off work, take him out to eat, to shop, let him be a pillow princess for a few days and he'd be forgiven.
As Valentino's breathing goes deep and even Vox finally ends the recording. He reaches down to palm his own cock and starts the video over again starting from this morning when he'd tipped a drop or two of love potion into Val's coffee.
Valentino puts on his gift, Vox's repressed 1950's ass is hot for it.
princess!kink, feminization!kink, intersex oral sex, prehensile moth dick, exhibitionism/does forcing your employees to stay on video call with you while you go down on your partner count as public sex?, Vox jerks off with the train of a dress because of course he does
Part 1 here https://www.tumblr.com/shushposting/745247138870624256/part-12-staticmoth-princesskink-daddykink
.o.
The elevator paused on the ride up to the top of V Tower, the doors opening for Velvette. The twisted grin she gives him is knowing and full of filthy promises. She shuts the door on her little media clowns that try to follow after her in favor of the two of them riding alone.
âOff to your ivory tower to get ready for your fancy date with your flat-faced prince?â She teases âDid he tell you anything?â
Valentino shakes his head with a hum, âOnly that a box or something is waiting for me upstairs and we have a reservation at 10.â
ââA box or-â fucking hell that âboxâ is worth more than a car.â She snaps indignantly âAnd whatâs in it is priceless.â
Fuck could this elevator not go any faster
âStop looking like a kid at Christmas, Val, itâs disgusting.â But thereâs no bite, if anything his enthusiasm makes her look smug, no doubt patting herself on the back for her hand in it.
âIâve waited all day to see what this is. I donât like waiting. Iâm allergic, I get hives and shit.â
âYouâre an idiot.â The click click clicks of her typing fills the brief silence before she nudges him with her hip âYouâll love it. Promise.â
âIs it hot?â
âLike hellfire. Itâs..â she clicks her tongue, picking her words as carefully as she picks patterns and fabrics, âniche. Honestly, it's the first Iâve ever made like it.â
âYou made it? Just for this?â It wasnât rare for her to make pieces just for them but it made it feel more intense- intimate- that whatever it was Vox wanted had been so specific it needed to be done from scratch.
âHand sewn by yours truly, I wouldnât let anybody else touch it.â
âAww Vel-â
âUpupupup- donât drag me into the gross feelings, save that energy for Vox.â She flippantly waves her hand in a shooing motion but leaves it dangling in the air expectantly.
He catches her hand and dips at the waist to kiss the back of her knuckles âYou're the best, Babydoll.â
"Of course I am." She says as the elevator opens to their shared common room and she steps off "At least remember that when you're ruining that outfit."
The doors close behind her and he watches the numbers climb- and yeah he is like a kid at Christmas, restless and damn near bouncing in his stilettos. He knew the ride was going to take up his whole damn afterlife he would have just flown up-
Really it takes less than a minute to reach the penthouse and for the doors open to the long hall leading to his rooms. Kitty and his sentry girls are already standing by with the doors held open for him. He doesn't bother to acknowledge them, just strides in and slams the door behind him.
And oh Vox, that sweet, hopeless romantic. There's a trail of petals under his feet as soon as he steps in, sweet pink candles flickering here and there along the path they made. He follows them through his flat to the bedroom. There are at least three bouquets worth of the silky red petals scattered on his bed, beautifully setting off the immaculate white of the package sitting on top of it.
The box is massive and Velvette wasn't kidding about the damn thing's worth. There was no ugly brown cardboard and cheap stickers. Like a jeweler's box, it was covered in thin, shiny leather with his name embossed across the front in elegant looping gold. Unmistakable as Vel's exclusive luxury line.
When he lifts the lid all he sees is white. White lace. White silk. White sheer gossamere. White white white
He sees the telltale lace garters and knows where this is going.
Vox's repressed 1950's ass always did get hot and bothered for Val in a dress.
He lifts.. and lifts and lifts and lifts. The sheer skirt is floor-length, slit up the front with a train, the shimmering gossamer pooling over the bed and he has to step back and hold it up as high as he can just to be able to see the whole thing. The bodice is a plunging sweetheart cut with rose-patterned lace over silk cups, the corset below was the same see-through as the skirt. Tight lace panties and a garter set are all there is in the way of bottoms under the skirt. The whole thing was more vintage bridal lingerie than a dress.
For a moment he thinks that in life Vox must have had a magazine with something like this secretly tucked away from his uppity bitch of a wife that never let him touch her unless the lights were off and they were under the sheets. He wonders how long Vox has been sitting on this little fantasy. Wonders if he'll even let him get out of it or just tear the train away from his ass and rip the panties down the middle and fuck him just like that.
Velvette was right, they were going to ruin this.
His phone buzzes, Vox's contact flashing across the screen Do you like it?
"I do." Valentino says out loud, smiling at the camera in the corner of the room
Then put it on. Strip for me.
Val unfolds his wings slowly, letting them slide away as he peels out of his leather pants, bending deep at the waist as they fall off to either side to show his ass. Staying bent Valentino spreads his legs further to slide off his heels- far enough he knows Vox can see between his thighs. He straightens slowly with an exaggerated arch of his back that keeps his hips canted out for Vox's viewing pleasure. When he turns he can see sparks around the camera and he knows the media overlord is getting off on the tease.
He walks towards the camera like he's on a catwalk as he flicks open the buttons of his shirt, his upper hands coming up to play with his chest once they're free. "What do you think, Papi? The gold rings or the diamond barbell tonight?"
He doesn't miss the zoom of the lens as he gets another text Diamonds. The ones I bought you for last year's award show.
A flash of red and Val is in the air, wings lifting him up to level with the camera as he cups and pushes his chest up giving Vox a close-up of the cleavage he's made, rolling his nipples between his claws for show while he slips his lower arms the rest of the way out of the shirt
And drapes it over the camera
HEY
This time Valentino texts back "Commit to the bit, Voxxy. You can't see me in the dress yet, bad luck or some shit."
The typing bubbles appear and disappear a few times. Valentino just laughs and thinks "I broke him" until it finally buzzes
Eyeliner. The cheap shit so it runs when I ruin you
Vox always knew just what to say to make his heart flutter.
.o.
Vox straightens his crisp white suit as he walks briskly down the hall to Valentino's penthouse suite, his assistant skittering after him. "Tell them I want the wine already poured when we sit down, leave the bottle. Wait five minutes and bring the food, then nobody enters the balcony unless I call for them. You did get my order didn't you?"
The eel furiously types up the instructions under the overlord's complex, obnoxiously specific order. "Yessir. I'll send this to the restaurant right away."
A sharp, withering look is shot over the media demon's shoulder as he adjusts his new diamond cufflinks.
"A-and I'll call as well, of course, to make sure they thoroughly understand your instructions, Sir."
"Good man. Have the driver bring the car around."
The eel walks as fast as he can without outright running from his boss. Kitty stands dutifully off to the side of Valentino's double doors, the fat bouquet of roses and little velvet box worth more than her that he'd ordered held out to him.
He takes it, checking inside the box that it's exactly what he wanted before closing it with a satisfied snap. "Kitty, have the elevators cleared, nobody hits a button until after we've left for our reservation. We won't be stopped for a second from this door to the car, you understand?"
She dips into a dainty curtsey with the tails of her bow and stays there until after the door closes behind him.
As he strolls to Valentino's room he notes everything had been arranged exactly how he'd specified, from the scent of the candles to only the most vibrant and perfect of rose petals making a path on the floor. Now as long as everyone could manage to be just as competent for the rest of the night there wouldn't be any problems and heads wouldn't have to roll.
He sees himself in his cameras, giving himself one last check. Velvette had assured him the immaculate white of his suit was made from the same silk as Valentino's outfit and the navy of the undershirt was the perfect compliment to his partner's lilac skin. 'Perfectly paired down to the last detail' she'd said.
He'd make damn sure tonight was exactly that. Perfect.
He only knocks for show, three quick raps before letting himself in with the little box tucked behind his back.
And oh he's glad Valentino didn't let him see before now.
The lights are dimmed and the moth is in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathed in the pink glow of the tower lights as he smokes. It's art, the silhouette of his long long legs outlined by the shimmering, see-through skirt and the way it fans across the floor around his feet. Hands that weren't holding the long cigarette stick were resting on his body, touching himself through the bodice, over the lace garters around his thighs, resting on his hip with fingers dipping just under the hem of his panties.. It's like the cover of one of those erotica novels and he's sure Valentino had staged the visual on purpose- the pose too modeled for it to be candid. Even from across the room, Vox can see the eyeliner rimming his eyes and a red sheen across his lower lip. He couldn't wait to smudge the hell out of them both.
Valentino's red eyes look away from the cityscape below and land on him, a hungry grin spreading until his gold fang glitters in the pink light as he looks Vox appreciatively up and down.
"Evening, Princess." Vox crosses the room, passing the bouquet into one of Valentino's hands, taking the one off his hip as soon as his own is free. "Let me look at you."
The moth sweeps the skirt out, the slit opening up to show the skin of his thighs, "Is it what you imagined?"
"Almost. Just missing one little thing.." He holds Val's knuckles to his mouth as he goes down on one knee, bringing the velvet box out from behind his back and flipping it open with his thumb.
Valentino purrs, pleased and giddy as he looks down at the massive diamond presented to him. "Christ Vox that's a fucking rock."
"I only buy you the best." Vox hums back at him, sliding the ring on with the same reverence as the prince with Cinderella's slipper.
-"S'that what gets you off? Some sweet prince charming bullshit? Put on Cinderella's stiletto and you get to go up under the skirt on your knees? Fucking hell Vox, no wonder you don't get laid down here."
"Oh fuck you, Otis."
"Nah, I'm not on the market. And unless you start earning me some big bucks with that little camera, your ~Princess~ ain't either. He's a whore Vox. My whore. Don't you go forgetting that." -
The static overlay of the memory fills him with a spiteful kind of satisfaction knowing the fat pig was rolling in his second grave because Vox was about to do exactly that.
He catches Val's eyes and lowers his digital mouth to the ring, then the inside of his wrist where the kiss turns to a barely-there lick. Daftly he moves Valentino's newly ringed hand over his shoulder and around the back of his neck, a silent signal 'hold on to me' as he moves the slit of the skirt out of the way to press his mouth just above the lace garters cinched around his thighs. A blue-clawed hand slides up the skin-warm silk of the corset and pushes the moth to lean back against the glass window.
"Come on, Princess, I said I wanted to look. Show me all of it" Vox slips a hand behind the back of one knee and hooks it over his shoulder.
And fuck does Val show him. His upper claws hold onto the free shoulder of Vox's fine suit and arches his back against the window to spread his legs while balancing on one perfect white stiletto to show off the lacey panties. One hand touches himself, guiding Vox's eyes from the little bow in the front, slowly to the strip of silk where it disappears between his cheeks, and back down to the frilly lace of his garters. Vox follows the path back up with his tongue, nibbles hickies into his thighs, and mouths wet over the silk until it clings tight to every outline and swell. He tests the hem over one hip with his teeth, it was so thin he could just bite right through.
Not yet. Tonight. Definitely tonight.
Vox's head buzzed with an incoming call, tongue vibrating in time with the ringing "Goddammit-"
Valentino's hand pushes hard on the back of his monitor, grinding into the vibrations with a pleased chirp. Digital eyebrows tick up as Vox feels the heel thrown around his back dig in, keeping him from pulling his mouth away to answer. Vox looks up the length of the moth's body, seeing expectant red eyes peeking over the fat bouquet of roses he was holding against his chest.
Fuck it, let it ring. Vox's vibrating tongue curls beneath his cock and further back, tracing over the hidden slit of his cunt through the silk, trying to tease the tight little snatch open. There's the slightest give and the first hint of cherry-sweet pheromone laced slick when the call drops. Incoming Call
Dead. Whoever they are they're dead. Dead dead dead dead. Vox shakes his head sharply, dumping the call. Blue claws slide the wet panties to the side, sharp tips stroking oh so soft over feverish skin and spreading him open, finally gets his tongue on that sweet little cunt he's been starving for all day-
Incoming Call
"Oh goddammit- WHAT?" He shouts against Valentino's skin, the pimp's hands holding him in place as the face-time frame pings into the upper corner of Vox's screen.
It's Vox's driver, wringing his chauffeur hat in his hands, pointedly trying not to stare from his perspective of his boss's static tongue lapping - the sounds this close obscene- at the porn overlord's pink-tinged slick. "I'm- I'm sorry, Mr. Vox Sir. The restaurant.."
"Will still be standing when. I'm. Done. You, on the other hand, will be lucky if I don't gift your head as a hood ornament to your replacement." Every stressed word is punctuated by thrusting his fingers hard enough Valentino is making punched-out little noises and the hand braced on the window squeaks against the glass as he arches into the feeling.
Hard-ass looking shark that he was the driver does a pretty good impression of a beaten dog "Sir, please, the restaurant called. Everything is ready, they're worried the food would-"
"They'll make it again." His tongue slides into Val's pussy between his scissoring fingers, driving in deep and pulling back off with a loud swallow. "Call them back and remind them I fucking own them. I own them, I own the restaurant, I own the brimstone under their feet, and the sky over their worthless, empty little heads. They exist only on my goddamn dime and they'll wait for me for as long as I say."
Valentino's mean laugh hisses above them as his prehensile cock slips out of the hem of his panties, dipping into Vox's mouth, trying to tangle up with his tongue as it licks at him. "Querido, he looks like he's going to cry."
"You'd love that wouldn't you?" Vox hums and takes the wriggling cock into his mouth, tangling his tongue with it, making out with it. "You're so mean, my gorgeous princess."
"You know it makes me wet when you lay down the law like that."
"Sir?" The miserable plea from Vox's speakers is ignored and the driver is left hanging on the line, knowing better than to hang up on his boss.
"Yeah? You like it?"
"Mm-hmm. Reminds me why I love to get on my knees for you and call you 'Sir' and won't ever do it for anyone else. Who else could do this to me?" A perfectly manicured claw slides down the edge of Vox's monitor and pulls him back to the dripping mess.
"Say it for me, Princess." Deep static bass vibrates through Vox's tongue as he licks long and slow through that wetness. "Tell me who else could."
"Nobody, Vox." Valentino moans, breathy and low, rocking between thrusting fingers and lapping tongue. "Nobody- oh fuck- nobody can do to me what you do. Never been this wet for anyone else. Never had to fake it, always fuck me the way you know I need it- the way only you can give it to me. Fucking ruined me for any other dick."
"Good." Vox goes down on him rough and starving, cheeking the moth's probing cock and driving into his cunt with his tongue. Licking loud and messy until slick is filling the seams of his screen and dripping off the edge into a growing puddle on the tile floor.
He pulls open the immaculate white slacks, blindly grabbing for a handful of the dress's train and fisting his cock, fucking into the fine fabric. Static crackles around him, shocking and stinging in delicious little kisses of pain over his skin and between Valentino's soaking folds.
"Vox" The flowers fall to the ground and all of Valentino's hands are grabbing at Vox's monitor and shoulders, riding his face hard.
"Cum, baby." Vox commands against Valentino's pussy, tightening his grip around himself until the friction from the dress burns and his cock starts kicking in his fist. "Cum for me. Now."
Candy pink and cherry sweet fill his mouth. A surge of Valentino's pheromones flood through Vox's fans, an instant high that chases the crest of his own orgasm and prolongs it until he thinks maybe he's cum twice.
He lets his tongue linger with unhurried slow drags through the mess they'd made until Valentino is chirping, pulling at his monitor by his antenna. "I'm going to cum again if you don't stop."
Tempting. Very tempting. But he hears traffic through the face-time feed where their driver was doing his very best to look anywhere but the screen, still waiting to take them to their reservation. He puts their clothes back in place, kisses the thigh thrown over his shoulder before setting Valentino's foot back on the ground.
"We're on our way down," Vox says to the driver before dumping the call and standing. He strokes over the skin-warm silk of the bodice before pulling the moth away from the window by his hips. "Are you ready?"
"After you just ruined me?" The moth's long arms drape over the tv demon's shoulders and waist, not sounding angry in the slightest.
Wet panties, hickie-covered thighs, and cum on his dress, Vox takes it all in with self-satisfied pride. "Tonight's all about us, about belonging to each other. I want everyone to see."
Valentino preens " Then let's go. Carry me?"
Vox sweeps him up all long legs and longer train, their ridiculous height difference putting his screen level with the moth's chest. Valentino had a few more visible hickies by the time they got to the car.
