Last Minion Standing

Chapter Two

I stalked into my apartment in a high dudgeon. “Stupid, too hot for his own good asshole.”

“Ooh, sounds like I missed out. What happened?” asked Jezzie coming out of the kitchen munching on some chips. I snatched the bag from her hands and flounced over to the couch where I collapsed. It took several handfuls of sour cream and onion crunchiness before I could tell her the events of the evening.

The bitch laughed. “Damn. I wish I’d been there. You kicking his balls up into his stomach would have made an awesome video for your fan page.” I just ate another mouthful of chips. Some women turned to chocolate in times of stress, I preferred salty goodness and if I couldn’t indulge in the bedroom variety then the crunchy out of a bag kind would do.

“Speaking of fan pages, did you know we already have over five thousand followers? You’re a hit.”

I perked up. “Really?”

Jezzie bobbed her head. “We’ve also got tons of names for you to check out and even a few applications for the sidekick position. Now, I was thinking. Interviews seem like a piss poor way to test your new sidekick’s mettle. It occurred to me, what we really should do instead is make them accomplish some tasks.”

“Like fetching my coffee and making sure it’s the right temperature with just the right amount of cream?” I added helpfully.

“No. Harder stuff. Television worthy shit. My buddy over at HBC says this would make a perfect reality miniseries and we’ve already hashed out the contracts.” HBC, Hell’s Broadcasting Corporation, talk about the big times. “Me? On television?” Hot damn. I’d need to go shopping again.

Jezzie went over the details of the contract with me and gave me the knife to prick my finger. Hell’s bureaucracy didn’t rely on unreadable signatures to sign contracts, nothing but one of a kind blood would do. As to the show itself, basically, I needed to do nothing. No lines to memorize or scripts to follow. Without me even being aware of it, cameras would be trailing me and the contestants selected to compete for the position of minion. I’d have to make sure I looked my best at all times. I also really hoped they hadn’t taped this evening’s fiasco.

I went to bed excited about becoming a television star, but I tossed and turned as a certain muscular somebody kept interrupting my thoughts of fame and fortune.

Attraction to a male wasn’t a new feeling for me, thinking about him though after I’d left his presence, I couldn’t remember that happening before. Love ‘em and leave them—

I’d grown up faithfully following our family motto. My longest relationship with an incubus—my blood protected me from their soul sucking, that or I had no soul—lasted less than a month, a record for me.

I tried thinking about anyone else, even the superhot Damon character from the television show The Vampire Diaries, but over and over, the rugged face and body of Drake superimposed itself over my usual fantasy figures. Maybe it was because he’d left me horny. I needed some kind of explanation for why for I couldn’t help remembering Drake’s muscular body as he’d slugged it out with the escaped soul. His smooth tanned skin which I still, even after his obnoxious behavior, wanted to lick. Mmmm.

Shuddering in arousal, I gave in to my libido and pulled open the drawer to my nightstand. I pulled out “Bob,” the boyfriend who never disappointed me. Long and hard, his black rubber length was just the thing I needed to sate my pussy tonight. I dripped some oil on his rubbery length then rubbed the bulbous head across my clit, but while it felt good, I needed more.

Closing my eyes, I pictured Drake, his chest slick with sweat, his dark hair rumpled and his blue eyes smoky with desire. My pussy flooded with wetness. I wondered how his cock looked. Long and lean or thick and juicy? Would he fuck me fast or torture me with long, deep strokes? I worked my rubber phallus into my sex, sliding it in and out, my thoughts of Drake exciting me, but my orgasm hung just out of reach. A rubber substitute just couldn’t take the place of the real thing.

Frustrated and fucking horny, I pushed faster, my breath coming in pants. But when my cell phone rang, satiation slipped away.

Cursing technology but wondering who could be calling at this hour, I let go of Bob—it’s not like I was getting anywhere—and grabbed my cell. A glance at the display showed a number I didn’t recognize. Maybe if I was lucky it would be an obscene caller who’d have suggestions on how I could get off.

I answered in my sexy voice. “Hello.”

“Are you touching yourself?”

I almost dropped the phone in shock. I hadn’t actually expected a naughty caller.

Things were looking up. “Who is this?” I asked.

“I can’t stop thinking of you,” my anonymous caller replied instead. “I wanted you to know that even though you did your best to turn me into a eunuch, I have recovered and I’m stroking my big cock right now.”

My eyes widened and even in my shock over him calling, my pussy began to throb.

“Drake? Is that you? How did you get my number?”

“I have my ways. But you never answered my question? Are you touching yourself?”

I thought for maybe a nanosecond about hanging up, but as usual my hormones did my thinking, and instead I put him on speakerphone and placed my cell on the pillow beside me.

“I’m naked,” I told him huskily. “And very, very wet.”

Drake groaned. “Oh baby. You are so fucking hot. Squeeze your tits for me and pinch your nipples.”

I admit having him give me orders of a sexual kind excited me. I grabbed my breasts and eagerly obeyed. Already aroused, this touching on his command just heightened my pleasure and I moaned.

“Just so you know babe, I’ve got my hand around my cock. It’s so fucking thick and hard right now. I’m imagining it between your tits, the tip of my shaft touching your lips.”

My hand found Bob and I slid him between my breasts which I pushed together. I licked the tip imagining it was a real pulsing rod, Drake’s rod.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a gravelly voice.

“I’ve got my dildo between my tits and I’m sucking it,” I answered honestly.

“Fuck.” The expletive was followed by some heavy breathing. “You’re going to make me lose control, babe. Put your dildo between your legs. I want you to rub it against your clit. It’s what I intended to do to you tonight. I was going to rub your little nubbin with my cock ‘til you squirmed and juiced yourself.”

His words painted a vivid picture and I almost came, especially when I rubbed my rubber toy against my clit. I closed my eyes and pictured Drake above me, his thick prick poking at me as I arched my hips, begging for him to fuck me. Faster, I frictioned my swollen nub, my breathe coming fast.

“Tell me what you want,” he growled.

“I want you to fuck me,” I panted. “Slide your cock into my pussy and fuck me hard.”

“Yes,” he hissed. “I’m inside your sweet pussy now. Can you feel me, pounding you?”

I slammed my dildo in and pumped myself hard. “Yes,” I cried. “Harder.” He didn’t speak, just grunted and I mewled, as I slammed my phallus in and out.

“Come for me,” he said in a strained voice.

And I did, keening as my channel, with a mighty quiver, finally crossed the edge into pleasure. Blissful waves made my sex contract hard and I cried out with each pulse. I heard Drake shout, as he found his own release.

Finally sated, I slid my dildo out of my happily throbbing pussy and grabbed the phone. “Thank you for calling Sally’s phone sex service,” I said in a sultry tone. “Expect a bill for thirty nine ninety five. Bye.”

Then I hung up. Great phone sex didn’t mean I forgave him his laughter. He’d have to work harder to gain my forgiveness. On his knees, sucking my pussy for starters.

With a smile, I went to sleep.

Drake grinned as he hung up the phone. Talking to Sally—and masturbating together—was well worth the favor he’d cashed in with his buddy over at HOE. He’d also used another IOU to dig up all the information available about the woman he’d soon take as mate.

Their eventual joining was just a matter of time. Fighting it would just delay the inevitable, and besides, it looked like his beast had chosen well. She embodied everything he loved in a woman from her long dark hair, perfect for pulling on, to her luscious, curvy frame made to cushion a man’s body. Correction, his body. He got the impression life would never be boring with Sally around—and the sex? Cataclysmic. Drake’s cock stirred.

As a shifter, part of his heritage included the fact that when he least expected, he’d encounter his mate, the one who would complement him and his beast. Drake never imagined he’d find his so soon, but having met the sexy Sally, he couldn’t wait to make her his, a sentiment his beast growlingly echoed.

He’d found the background info on her very interesting, especially the parts blacked out with ”Classified” stamped over them. From the sounds of the sections he could read, she was one tough bitch capable of dishing it out. She also harbored a naughty streak judging by some of her escapades which hadn’t been censored. He—and his beast—

really liked her naughty side and he looked forward to tasting it firsthand.

Flipping on the television to distract him before he called her again for another round of phone sex, he first checked out the human channels, but other than infomercials and the weather network, there wasn’t much to watch. He hit the special button on his remote and tuned to HBC. To his disbelieving eyes, the object of his lust appeared. Muttering to his beast to shut up, he turned up the volume.

“…Do you have what it takes to become this stunning lady’s sidekick? Imagine working daily in close proximity to this goddess of latex, her every wish your desire.

Only the strongest, brightest and slyest need apply. First round in the elimination is…” Drake listened to the rest of the broadcast before he turned off the television. He got up and paced. When he’d heard about the Hellbook posting of Sally looking for a superhero name and sidekick, he’d easily laughed it off; after all, new groups popped up daily on HB and never went anywhere. But someone had latched onto Sally and her quest, pushing her into the spotlight where males of all kinds could drool and compete to work closely with her. Not to mention, whoever wanted her hurt or out of the soul retrieval game would not be happy at her newfound fame, probably painfully so. Drake growled even before his beast had a chance too.

She’s mine. I must protect her, even from herself. What to do though? She’d probably signed contracts to abide by the terms of the contest, and knowing Hell’s lawyers, the consequences of breaking them would be severe. Which left only one alternative.

He’d have to compete. And win.