In the smoky, neon-lit corridors of Hell, the tension between high-status demons often simmered beneath the surface. One such tension boiled over one fateful evening when Velvette of the Vee's, a demon known for her sharp wit and even sharper claws, arrived unannounced at the opulent residence of Carmilla Carmine. The residence, adorned with dark velvet drapes and twisted chandeliers, seemed almost to shiver with the apprehension that Velvette brought with her.
Carmilla, the elegant yet ruthless demoness, greeted Velvette with forced civility. She masked her surprise with a veil of composure, though her eyes flickered with unease. "Velvette," she said, her tone carefully neutral. "What brings you to my doorstep?"
Velvette smirked, her crimson eyes glinting with a dangerous amusement. "Oh, just a little visit to remind you of unfinished business," she said, stepping into the grand foyer with a casual grace. Her arrival was like a storm cloud—ominous and disruptive. "You remember our little chat at the meeting, don't you?"
Carmilla's posture stiffened. "I do. But I wasn't aware it was an invitation for a personal confrontation."
Velvette's smile widened, her eyes narrowing with an almost predatory satisfaction. "It wasn't. But I thought we could discuss the matter of what happened on Extermination Day. You know, the angel you took out?" Her tone was light, but the underlying threat was unmistakable.
Carmilla's eyes widened briefly. The memory of killing the exorcist angel was still fresh. It had been a desperate act, one born out of a need to protect her own from the relentless onslaught of the Exterminations. Yet now, the consequences of her action loomed larger than ever, threatening her reputation and the safety of those she cared for.
"I see. And what is it you want from me?" Carmilla asked, forcing herself to remain calm despite the cold sweat on her brow.
Velvette leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Oh, it's quite simple. You do one thing for me, or I make sure everyone knows about what you did." Her lips curled into a cruel smile. "Imagine the chaos if it got out that someone of your stature not only defied the rules but made the Extermination Day even bloodier. The whispers, the plots, the retribution—it would be a nightmare."
Carmilla's face paled. The notion of exposing her actions was terrifying. Not only would it invite retaliation from other factions, but it could also spark a broader conflict that could engulf Hell in further bloodshed. She had hoped to keep her secret buried, to shield her family and friends from the fallout.
Velvette's eyes sparkled with malicious intent. "You know how the last thing I said before leaving that meeting was to tell everyone to 'kiss my ass'? Well, I want you to do just that—kiss mine. So, what's it going to be, windbag?"
Carmilla's gaze hardened as she weighed her options. The power dynamics were clear; Velvette held the upper hand, and the threat was real. She could feel the walls of her carefully constructed world beginning to crumble. With a deep breath, she nodded reluctantly. "Very well. I'll do it."
Velvette's grin broadened. "Good choice. And remember, the consequences of defiance are far worse than the price of submission." With that, Velvette pivoted sharply, her movements fluid and deliberate as she removed her sleeveless coat, the fabric gliding off her shoulders and pooling at her feet. The air in the room shifted, thickening with tension as she grasped the waistband of her pants, bending at the waist with an elegance that belied the gravity of the moment. As the fabric slipped down, revealing her backside, Carmilla's eyes widened in a mix of shock and humiliation, her heart racing in her chest.
The atmosphere in the room felt disorienting, a whirlwind of emotions swirling around her as her thoughts raced. She grappled with the weight of Velvette's demand, the implications of the moment pressing down on her like a heavy shroud. The dignity she had carefully built over the years began to slip away, like grains of sand through her fingers, each moment stretching out in agonizing clarity. For a brief moment, she hesitated, caught in a tumultuous clash between her pride and her fear. The internal struggle was palpable, a battle waged in silence as she weighed her options.
Yet, the sight of Velvette's threatening smile, a predatory glint in her eyes, and the gravity of her ultimatum loomed large, forcing Carmilla's hand. The realization that resistance would only lead to further humiliation settled heavily in her stomach. With a resigned sigh, she knelt behind Velvette, her cheeks burning with shame, the heat radiating through her entire being. The position felt foreign, a stark departure from her usual role of authority and dominance, and the vulnerability was suffocating.
As she leaned forward, pressing her lips against Velvette's exposed rear, a wave of humiliation washed over her, engulfing her in a tide of conflicting emotions. It was a deeply degrading and intimate gesture, one that stripped away the layers of her carefully constructed facade. The taste of defeat lingered on her lips, mingling with the bitter realization that she was now at the mercy of another. Each second felt like an eternity, the intimacy of the act contrasting sharply with the power dynamics that had once defined their relationship. In that moment, Carmilla was no longer the one in control; she was a pawn in a game she had never intended to play, and the weight of her submission pressed down on her like a heavy cloak, suffocating and inescapable.
Velvette let out a soft, triumphant laugh, clearly savoring the moment. "That's more like it," she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. She turned slightly to glance at Carmilla, who was still kneeling with a pained expression.
Unbeknownst to Carmilla, Velvette had taken additional precautions. Earlier, she had discreetly arranged for a small, hidden camera to be placed in the corner of the room. A shadowy figure, hidden in the folds of the room's dark curtains, silently snapped a series of photos of the humiliating ass kissing scene. Each click of the camera was a click closer to a powerful piece of leverage that Velvette intended to use to her advantage.
With a final, derisive chuckle, Velvette pulled up her pants, put her coat back on and started to leave, her demeanor now radiating a blend of triumph and satisfaction. She shot a final glance at Carmilla, who remained on her knees, and said, "Remember, Carmilla, I'm not just a threat—I'm a promise. Don't forget who holds the cards."
As Velvette strutted out of the residence, her steps echoing through the opulent halls, she felt a sense of vindication. She had successfully bent Carmilla to her will, and she now possessed a potent tool for future negotiations—or manipulations.
Carmilla, still reeling from the indignity, slowly got to her feet. Her mind was a whirlwind of anger, shame, and fear. The image of her compromised position was now indelibly etched into her memory, but she was also haunted by the knowledge that Velvette held something that could utterly destroy her. The weight of the blackmail loomed over her, an ever-present reminder of the power dynamic that had shifted so dramatically in the course of one evening.
As the door closed behind Velvette, Carmilla resolved to find a way to regain control, to restore her lost dignity, and to protect her reputation from further erosion. But for now, she was left alone in the dimly lit room, her pride in tatters and her future uncertain.