To say Ollie had a penchant for bad ideas was a vast understatement. He loved bad ideas. The worse, the better. If said idea could be described as "Stupid, moronic, and half-baked", he was all in. Hell, he'd double down on it.

Because what else was there to do when you're in your 20s than be an idiot?

Such a drive for mischief often lead to Ollie pulling small pranks, here and there. Hide all of Zdrada's smokes? Foolish, but amusing. Move Justice's shoes over a foot or two, knowing she couldn't see them? He felt a little bad about that one, but come on, even she thought it was funny!

But this idea he was working on? It might be the most lackluster thing he's ever done, or it might go down in history as the most braindead act a mortal could ever set out to accomplish.

He was going to give Pandemonica some preworkout.

"Pan, I assure you, this stuff's way better than coffee." Ollie asserts, mixing the caffeine powder into the water. He's diligent in his task, making sure to break up the clumps of powder at the bottom of the glass with a butter knife.

"I find that hard to believe." The fluffy-haired demon yawns, eyeing the dubious bright blue drink.

"It tastes like shit, but it's like drinkin' 8 cups of coffee. Gets you wired. Try it, you'll see." He insists, offering the measuring cup to her.

She tugs at her sleeves and her gloves, trying to decide whether or not to accept the glass. Unfortunately, with Taker out of the house for the morning, this will likely be her only chance for caffeine before noon. That harrowing thought pushes her over the edge, and she take the glass from him.

"Make sure-" Ollie begins to warn her to drink it as fast as possible, but such warning is pointless as Pandemonica slugs the entire glass before he can finish his sentence.

He stands there in stunned silence, as Pandemonica stands over the sink, face wrinkled in disgust. Immediately, the buzz sets in. Like a child on a sugar rush, she begins to shake gently. Her eyes reopen, revealing her slitted pupils. Slowly, the horns atop her head grow to monstrous size as she slowly turns her head to gaze at him.

The terrifying grin on her lips tells Ollie that maybe giving Pandemonica a solid 400 milligrams of caffeine might have been a bit too far. "So, uh... feel better, Pan?" He nervously asks, fidgeting uncomfortably as he realizes he's in fact cornered by the demoness.

It is only once she furrows her brows, and her smile radiated pure malice, that the feeling of fight or flight begins to set it.

"How many times have I told you not to call me that, boy?" The threat closes in, pinning him against the counter as she grabs him by his tie.

"I... uh... I-I'm sorry?"

"Sorry isn't good enough, mister. You've been a naughty boy... and I'm far too hyper to get any work done. So you're going to make it up to me." Pandemonica grins, the glint in her eye betraying the cruelty she was geared to dish out.

Ollie can only muster a gulp as she drags him by the tie to her... "office."

"HELP!" Ollie begs, fingers digging into the wall as he does his best to resist. His grip strength proves a pittance to that of a scorned demon. "STRANGER DANGER! I NEED AN ADULT!"

"I am an adult, now quiet down." Pandemonica orders, pulling him through the doorway. His mouth clamps shut, fearful of pissing off the woman likely to inflict the finest torture he'd ever seen. As he's slowly hauled toward the spider's web, not exactly of his own accord mind you, he spots Zdrada a few feet down the hall. The resident bitch demon looks rather jealous at the fact that it wasn't her being whisked away.

If there was a silver lining, it would be the fact that he was properly pissing off Zdrada. Ollie could take comfort in that, he supposed.

With deft hands, Pandemonica throws him upon a rack of some sort, binding his wrists with leather straps built-in to the implement. As she disappears behind him to lock the door, he notices just how dark it is in the room. The only source of illumination being a litany of candles set up carefully about the perimeter of the room, some on stands and candelabras. "So... d'you just keep this place lit like this 24/7, or..." He trails off in a casual tone. Maybe if he keeps his cool, he hopes, maybe he can get out of this.

"Quiet." He hears from behind him, the tone not far off from that of some strict instructor. Before him steps Pandemonica in all her glory, clad in thigh-high, high-heeled boots. To match, she's donned some dark (rather tasteful, he might add) lingerie. The cherry on top, of course, is her black leather cap bearing a pentagram stitched in silver thread. She raises her hand, showing off a bullwhip of the same black leather which Pan had seemed so fond of. "First things first, boy. You'll refer to me only as Mistress. Anything else and I'll have to... punish you."

This of course elicits a gulp out of Ollie. Part of him was already getting sick of the candlelight and black leather. The other part of course had started to think that maybe, just maybe, there was something about this he could enjoy. "Uhh..." He shudders. "Yes, Mistress?" He tests the word out, letting it roll around his tongue as though he were trying a strange new food.

Which, depending on how one looked at it, wasn't too far off from the truth.

"Good boy." She praises him, amused at his abashed expression. "Second, you will speak only when spoken to." She tightens her grip on the whip, as though to punctuate that point in particular. "Last, but not least, we will agree to a safe word and you will tell me to what limits you are willing to go."

This strikes Ollie. Hanging here in the spider's web, strapped up to a rack in a dimly-lit room with a leather-wearing demon in front of him? He had expected her to just... go in swinging. "A... safeword? To be honest I don't know how any of this works. I was afraid you'd be jumping right into it..." He admits.

Breaking the act for a moment, Pandemonica sighs. "Look, this is about us both enjoying it. If things go too far, there needs to be a safe word so I know to stop. It is just as important as getting to know your limits, so I don't go beyond them." She explains.

"Ah, I get it... thank you, M-Mistress." Ollie stumbles over his words a bit, but the smile on Pan's face brings him a hint of warmth.

Call him a people-pleaser, but he rather liked the smile on her lips. Even if it did scare him just a bit.

"Now we're back on track. Does the safeword 'Brimstone' work?" She offers. He nods, but that fails to satisfy. "Use your words!"

"Yes, Mistress!" He shouts, eyes widening in delicious fear, which she drinks in happily.

"Good boy." His mistress praises once more. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly. This could prove... dangerous. "Now... tell me what you aren't willing to do, and we can begin."

He hesitates once more, thinking on the question before him. "I uh, I haven't done this kind of thing before, so I'm not sure what kind of stuff you'd be doing. As long as it doesn't involve breaking the skin, or making me bleed, I think I'll be okay." He finishes.

"I can work with that." She purrs. Stepping closer, her face mere inches from his, she lifts his chin with a finger so his eyes meet her surprisingly soft smile. "One more thing, Pet. I need you to tell me if you want this to continue. If you do not, I will let you go."

Faced with the prospect of freedom, Ollie's heart soars. He didn't exactly enter this situation willingly, but he had to admit that the care with which she had handled him thus far was... pleasant.

Did he want this? He wasn't sure. What was the harm in finding out?

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

"I want this, Mistress." A small, nervous smile dances across his face for but a fleeting moment. It is enough for Pandemonica. She runs a hand under his shirt, grazing it up and down his chest and abdomen gently.

"Good boy."

Yep, that settles it. He definitely wanted this.

She rubs his chest, leather gloves beginning to chafe his skin. Luckily the discomfort is relieved when she grabs hold of his shirt, and tears it from him, leaving it discarded on the floor. "Oh, damnit. I liked that one" He mutters disappointed. His blood runs cold, realizing that he's already fucked up.

Without warning, Pan produces a whip comprised of leather tassels, known as a flogger. She strikes him in the chest. The sensation raking across his skin elicits a grunt, and he clenches his teeth. Her lips curl upward in response.

"Silence." The word cut through the air, bringing him back to reality. "Rule number two. Off to a bad start, pet." She mocks, bringing her hands toward his beltline. With the grace only brought about by centuries of practice, she undoes his belt. In one fluid motion, she slides it from its loops, cracking it like a whip in the air.

Second verse same as the first, his pants shred as she rips them from his body. Ollie remains silent this time, begrudgingly. Sure, he was looking forward to seeing how this played out, but he didn't expect it'd start with Pan ruining his clothes.

Such complaints aren't voiced of course, and are quickly forgotten as Pan lays a hand on his crotch. Ever so gently, she massages his bulge which is barely held inside the confines of his boxer-briefs. "Look at that." She hums. "This hard already? I'm starting to think you've been enjoying this too much."

The only response Ollie can muster is a soft groan, as he averts his eyes. He had been enjoying this experience so far, that much was true. The prospect of (possible) danger mingled with pleasure was a strange juxtaposition.

But an interesting one.

Without further fanfare, she rips his undergarments from him, exposing him in all his glory. Eyeing it with what he hopes is surprise, she cocks an eyebrow. "Well endowed, too. I'll have fun with you." She compliments, stroking it slowly as he bites back a moan. "Let it out, pet. I want to hear how much you're enjoying this."

"Mm- yes, Mistress..." He lets out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding, groaning as she runs her hand up and down the length of his cock. Rather quickly does he reach full mast, member standing at attention. Pleased, her tail begins to swish back and forth.

"Hmm, where to start..." The leather-clad demon ponders, glancing about the room as she tightens her grip on him resulting in a grimace from Ollie. Her eyes settle on one of the many candles set about the room. Mind made up, her pupils narrow as she takes the closest candle from its stand, holding it aloft before his eyes. "I think you'll enjoy a little waxplay..."

An uneasy feeling causes his muscles to tense upon watching her slowly tilt the candle. The sight of melted wax beginning to brim over the edge of the candle plays out in front of him as though in slow-motion. The first few drops land across his chest, slowly running down to his abdomen. He grunts in pain as small white rivulets of sharp pain decorate him, each one slowly landing closer to his groin. Mercifully, Pan redirects them, beginning to drip onto his thighs.

"N-nuh!" He shudders, throwing his head back and clenching his fists.

Of course, Ollie wasn't a stranger to... abuse. He was made of sterner stuff than some. But with the feeling of Pan's ungloved hand beginning to caress his cock providing a sensation beyond that of the simple pain he was beginning to get used to, he couldn't help but make some noise. This vocalization only proves to spur her on, as she spits into her hand and swirls her finger around the tip of his cock. Ever so slowly, he gently lunges his hips, thrusting into her hand. Such action is brought to cessation when she swipes the candle across him, spreading a white line across his neck and shoulders. "F-ffuck!"

The whip makes a brief return, singing as it impacts his skin. In its wake, angry red lines draw themselves across his pale skin and marking him. He refrains from vocalizing, sucking in a sharp breath.

"Hmph. I tire of this already..." Pan hums, unimpressed. Strangely, Ollie is disappointed by that fact. Wandering a few feet away and weighing her options, her cat-eyed gaze lingers on a set of smooth red rope. "Time for the main event."

She glides across the floor, releasing his binds with a mere wave of her hand. He drops to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut, landing on his hands and knees. Wordlessly, she seizes his wrists, binding them together with the length of vermillion rope. With the crisp 'snap!' of her fingers, the rope is miraculously cut by some infernal means.

'Fuckin' bondage magic.' He thinks in amazement. She grabs him by the wrists, dragging him over to the bed tucked away on the other side of the room. With a soft creak, he falls on his back onto the bed. She kneels beside him, pinning him to the bed with her hand which gently strokes his chest once more. The only thought in his mind besides how powerless he is, is something along the lines of 'I don't even want to know how many bodily fluids are staining this bed.'

Such concerns are quashed quickly though as he feels himself sink into the velvety covers. She climbs atop him, back facing towards him as she scooches back towards his face. "You're going to make me cum, pet. Do a good job, and I'll give you a reward..."

"Yes, Mi-!" He begins before Pandemonica silences him, shoving her panties to the side exposing her already dripping-wet cunt.

As if urging him to dig in, she shakes her ass to and fro, bringing it closer to him. Not needing any further prompt, he cranes his head upward to go to work. Though he finds some difficulty in accomplishing the task with his arms bound beneath him he manages, and begins to greedily lap away at her folds. At the feeling of his lips brushing against hers, she grabs him by the hair, shoving his face closer yet.

As his tongue dances along her pussy, he hears her shudder. He knows he's found the sweet spot once her grip tightens to a painful degree, only spurring him to earn that reward she'd promised. Knowing what may lie ahead, and knowing where to attack, he goes all in with reckless abandon. In no time flat, he brings her closer and closer to climax, culminating in a groan as she grinds against his face.

After a quiet moment of pride on Ollie's part, and satisfaction on Pan's she climbs off of his face. He looks her in the eyes as he licks his lips, as though the pleasure was all his. Her eyes drift to his package, still standing straight in the air, throbbing furiously.

Smirking, she turns around to face him as she unclips her bra. It flutters to the floor as she throws it, and proceeds with grinding her ass against his cock. "You've done well, pet. You know that 'reward' I promised?" She pants.

Excited to finally get his rocks off, Ollie arches his back. "Uhn~ Y-yes..."

Suddenly displeased, she pulls away from him. "Ah-ah-ah. Yes, what?"

"Yes Mistress!" He shouts, brought to desperation from the concept of displeasing Pandemonica.

"That's better." She hums. "Beg me to fuck you."

"Please, mistress!" He pleads. "Please fuck me, mistress!"

Pleased, she lowers herself down, teasing his cock with the entrance to her pussy. Ever so slightly does she impale herself upon him, only allowing a few inches to enter her.

"Good boy."

With a fury seldom survived by mortal men, she slams herself down, fully sheathing every thick inch inside of her. The act prompts a ragged groan from Ollie, but he's left with little time to take in the feeling of her tight walls clenching his rod before she begins to bounce. Punctuating every descent with some sort of grunt or moan, she stops only momentarily to grab Ollie's shoulders and sit him up, using him for stability as she milks him for all he's worth.

She takes note of his accelerated breathing, his sack tightening. "Close already, boy?" She questions amusedly, voice raised to speak over the sounds of their bodies colliding.

"Yes Mistress!"

"Good. I'm going to count down from 10, and you're going to drain those balls inside me!" The demoness commands of him.

"Y-yyes, mistress-" Ollie's voice catches in his throat.

"Good boy! 10!"

She rolls her hips just to tease him.

"9!" She ascends just a bit too high, and the entirety of Ollie is exposed to open air, before she comes back down on it with gusto.

"8!" He bucks his hips.

"7!" She wraps an arm around his shoulders, as she runs a hand through his hair, gazing into his glossy green eyes, which are glazed over in pleasure.

"6!" The distance between them closes.

"5!" She passes his face, bringing her mouth down on his neck.

"4!" She bites and sucks, making sure to leave a good mark. All would know what they got up to in here.

"3!" She lets up, bringing her forehead to his. His warm breath tickles her face.

"2!..." She draws it out, torturously. She pauses a few more seconds, just to keep him on edge.

"1!" She announces, violently seizing his lips with her own. Her tongue enters his mouth, battling for control. Ollie fights back valiantly, but it's a losing battle. He moans into her mouth as he thrusts, emptying every drop of cum he has into Pandemonica.

She continues to assail his mouth, catching the faintest taste of herself on his tastebuds. Breaking contact, she reaches behind him, undoing the knot she had bound him with. Pushing him down onto his back, she lowers herself gently down to lay on top of him.

Enjoying the feeling of his chest rising with ever shaky breath, she nuzzles her head into him. While Pan enjoys the moment, Ollie stares up at the ceiling with wide eyes and harrowed gaze. "You did better than I had expected, boy. Would you... like to have another go sometime?" She offers, running her hands up and down his body, still crusted in dried wax.

"Huh?..." The young man grunts, coming back to Earth. He shuffles back to lean against the wall. "I- uh- yeah. I'd... I'd love to." He admits.

"It's a date, then." The horned woman hums, crawling to lay atop him once more. Wrapping his arms around her and resting his head atop hers, Ollie comes to a realization. He's learned two things today.

The first was that he quite enjoyed... whatever this was.

The second was that he should never give Pan any of his preworkout. Unless he was down to repeat this experience, that is.

On second thought, maybe he should stock up on more preworkout...