Last Minion Standing

Chapter Three

When I finally dragged my ass out of bed at the indecent hour of two pm, it was to discover Jezzie had turned our living room into a war zone. I rubbed bleary eyes and looked again. Nope still a fucking war zone.

“What’s with all this?” I asked Jezzie as she bustled from the laptop to the large whiteboards all over the place covered in scrawls.

“This board,” she said pointing,” is name suggestions. And this one sidekick applications.”

The scrolling amount of names applying for the job of my minion was staggering. “I can’t screen all those guys. They are guys right? I don’t want any girls trying to steal my limelight.”

Jezzie snapped her fingers and a quarter of the names on the board disappeared.

“Done. I’ll adjust the online application. As for the rest, I’ve got the first round of eliminations scheduled for this afternoon.”

“So soon?” I squeaked. My innocent statement of needing a minion had taken a life of its own and was now barreling like a giant snowball down a steep hill. I felt like holding up a Wile E. Coyote sign which read “Help!”

“Don’t worry all you need to do is show up. I’ve got everything else under control.”

“Exactly what I’m afraid of,” I muttered as I went in search of caffeine. After having slept on it, I wasn’t so sure I wanted a minion anymore. Actually, I found myself in the mood for one shirtless and shoeless man instead. He had a pair of low hipped pants just begging for a pair scissors so I could see if he wore boxers, briefs, or even better, nothing at all.

While a happy Jezzie went completely overboard in her quest to help me, I showered and dressed for a visit to Hell. First stop, the HOE’s offices and Medusa—my fist really wanted to chat with her mouth.

I strutted into the HOE office building like I owned it, my indecently high heels clacking loudly on the polished floor. I knew I looked hot, having dressed in a red leather mini with a jet colored blouse tied off just underneath my boobs while an elastic held my hair up in a high ponytail which tickled my waist. I called that hairstyle the Tomb Raider for it was just like the one Angelina Jolie wore in the movie. I just wished I had her cock sucking lips—and Brad Pitt.

Sigh

.

Back to business. I made my way up to the dispatch office to have a few friendly words with my nemesis, Medusa. I wouldn’t tolerate the crap she’d pulled on me the day before. I intended to make very clear the future consequences should she decide to repeat her unprofessional behavior.

What I hadn’t expected to find was Drake already perched on Medusa’s desk, his head bent low as he whispered something to her which made her blush and laugh. I scowled, not because I was jealous, or because he wore a shirt over his magnificent bod, but because I could see my threats about to fall on deaf ears. I’d take bodily harm over pleasing the hot guy any day and I figured Muddie, who didn’t get many chances at a hottie of his caliber, wouldn’t even bat an eye. I restrained myself from kicking things in frustration.

Medusa chose that moment to notice me and she did so with a smirk. “If it isn’t the Big Hoe herself.”

“Jealous?” I smiled and added an extra wiggle to my walk when I noticed Drake’s eyes regarding me smokily. “Oh, and Big Hoe is copyrighted to the president of the succubus union. Do your homework.”

The cap of snakes on Muddie’s head danced and hissed in agitation. “You here to bitch about the mishap with last night’s take down?”

I threw a sultry look at Drake. “Bitch about getting the chance to meet this great big hunk of man? Definitely not. Actually I wanted to thank you for making my evening so pleasurable. ” Medusa’s lips tightened so much they almost welded completely shut. With a wink at Drake, I sashayed back to the elevators. I should have known he’d follow me.

Actually, I’d hoped he would.

Ignoring him wasn’t easy in the close confines of the elevator. Especially when he hit the stop button and I found myself pressed up against the mirrored wall. Scorching lips found mine in a kiss that made me swoon. I clutched his broad shoulders for a moment, allowing the pleasure his touch ignited to sweep through me.

But I had no intention of making this too easy for him, good phone sex or not. My sharp teeth nipped at his lip and drew blood. He pulled his head back and regarded me with glowing eyes. Why his eyes kept glowing around me was a mystery, but the fact his did almost made me grab his head to drag him back in for another smooch. However, I had places to be, minions to judge, and millions of viewers waiting to watch my awesome self.

“Sorry, sweet cheeks,” I said patting him on the side of his smooth shaven jaw.

“While you are a hot piece of ass, my schedule is quite busy for the next little bit.” He moved back and leaned against the opposite wall and his lips tilted in a half smile. “Ah yes, the contest for sidekick.”

“I’m glad you understand. Maybe in a few weeks, when things calm down, you can give me a call.” The brushoff, here’s where I’d find out just how interested he was in me.

I loved being chased—and getting fucked, um, caught. I pressed the button to resume the elevators descent.

He said not a word in reply, but his eyes watched me and I retrained an urge to squirm under his intent scrutiny. Good thing I’d worn panties today because they caught the seeping moisture his presence created in my sex. He, on the other hand, couldn’t hide the bulging erection in his jeans. My mouth watered and I swallowed with disappointment—saliva just wasn’t the same as fresh cream.

“See you around,” I waved with false cheer as I exited the elevator, a little miffed when he didn’t reply or follow.

No matter, I had more important things to attend to and I definitely didn’t feel bummed when he didn’t try to trail me or convince me to get better acquainted. The jerk.

I made my way to Hell’s coliseum, still unable to believe everything Jezzie had accomplished in such a short time. A stream of demons and damned went through the various entrances and I wondered if I’d gotten the time wrong for my own appearance.

Surely they couldn’t all be here for my first minion elimination round?

But as it turned out, they were, at least according to the snippets of conversation I heard.

“There she is. Wow, she’s even hotter in person.”

“I wouldn’t mind being her sidekick if you know what I mean.”

“Think if I’m bad, she’ll come punish me?”

I preened under the comments. I also smiled and waved as more and more heads began to turn and hands pointed. I could have done without the ass slaps and pinches though. I’d have bruises tonight for sure.

I spotted Jezzie’s familiar pig tails bobbing at the main entrance and headed towards her.

“What’s up with the crowd?” I said.

“I told you this thing was taking off,” Jezzie beamed. “Now come on, we’ve got to get you ready for your first official appearance.”

A group of vultures who claimed positions like hair and makeup attacked me when we reached the bowels of the coliseum. The clothes I’d chosen were torn from my body and I found myself clad in a red latex suit which left little to the imagination—kind of like most of my wardrobe actually.

Jezzie wisely stayed out of reach, smart demon for had she gotten close enough I would have wrung her neck. I’d gone past snowball, this had turned into a hurricane and its gale force now flung me around like a rag doll. Before I could say “Boo”—although I managed to exclaim “Fuck” a few times—I found myself behind a blood red curtain on stage.

I looked to the wings on my left and mouthed at Jezzie. “What the fuck do I do now?”

“Just follow the emcee’s lead.”

Emcee? Sure enough I heard a booming voice on the other side of the silken barricade.

“Good afternoon denizens of Hell. Are you ready for the first round in Last Sidekick Standing? ”

A roar met his words and if my feet hadn’t frozen as if stuck in heavy cement shoes, I would have run, really, really far.

Instead, my mouth got dry, my hands clammy and when the curtain suddenly pulled away, the bright lights blinded me. I made a mental note to place an ad looking for a new roommate because the one I had was going to die shortly. Cowardice thankfully didn’t run in my family though. I sucked in my stomach and smiled. The crowd cheered.

I regained a bit of my equilibrium. “My friends of Hell, thank you for coming. As you’ve probably heard, I need a minion.”

“Sidekick!” someone hissed out of sight.

“Today we’re going to test some of the applicants and see if they have what it takes.” Unsure of what they had planned, no one had deigned to inform me, I raised an arm and lowered it shouting. “Let the games begin.”

Stamping, clapping and whistling made the stage shiver. What a rush. Without my noticing, a throne appeared behind me. I sat in the monstrous chair and waited with bated breath like everyone else to see what would happen next.

Like the Roman coliseum of old, the stadium seating and stage surrounded an inner open area with massive, iron bound doors ringing it. Mere mortals would have cringed to hear about some the famous bloody events which had played out here over the centuries.

It also featured great acoustics for concerts.

The doors of the arena opened and an eye popping amount of half-clad men and demons came rushing out. My jaw dropped. Surely not all of these males wanted the position of minion. Talk about flattering. And hot. Indecent amounts of bare flesh ran around hacking and slashing in a free for all cheered on by a blood thirsty crowd.

Some of the contenders sported weapons like swords and knives, a few flailed whips, some resorted to their bare fists and others just used themselves, which in the case of demons and shapeshifters could be deadlier than any weapon forged.

Riveted, I watched as sweaty, muscled bodies slugged and kicked. Talk about an early birthday present way better than any strip club. Before long, I found my eyes caught by one particular figure—a familiar one. Surely it couldn’t be. I leaned forward and didn’t know whether I should curse or cheer, for flattening a goodly amount of applicants was Drake. Once again, shoeless and shirtless, his body gleamed with perspiration and his muscles rippled as he competed. I found myself silently cheering him.

I couldn’t have said how long the all-out brawl lasted, but when it came down to five males still standing, a bell rang and the fighting stopped.

A flurry of minor demons flew into the ring and cleared the groaning, bleeding and in some cases, unconscious bodies out of the way. The five remaining contestants formed a line in front of me and I got a chance to see who had prevailed in this first vicious round.

The tallest by at least a half foot was a demon with grey/green skin. His short horns and clear skin indicated his youth. Beside him, stood a wolfman who, as I watched, shifted back in to his human form, a very naked male body with an impressive package that made the females in the crowd titter. Then there was some kind of lizard dude whose yellow slitted eyes and forked tongue totally freaked me out. The fourth player was a guy with a thick squat body and a ton of facial hair who made me think he was of dwarvish origin. Interesting, for their kind rarely ventured forth. Finally, looking tastier than a caramel covered cheesecake, Drake.

The emcee’s voice boomed. “And out of the hundred we are left with five tough enough to continue on in the battle for the title of Last Sidekick Standing. Tomorrow, we shall test their cunning. My lady with no name, would you like to give us some parting words.”

Taken by surprise, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I think I need a drink.”

Apparently, I said the right thing for my words were met with a roar of approval, and, to my relief, the curtain came crashing down. I stalked off the stage looking for Jezzie, but she’d disappeared, the sneaky bitch.

Tired, hungry and needing a stiff drink—not to mention aroused—I opened a portal back to my apartment. I vaguely wondered what the test of cunning on the morrow would entail, but couldn’t think further than my hunger. One food didn’t satisfy. Turned out my appetite craved something more carnal, say a Drake sausage smothered in my bun.

I can’t believe he’s competing. Is this his way of getting closer to me? Surprise didn’t come close to explaining my emotions when I saw him competing to be mine. Okay, mind you, this wasn’t The Bachelorette, but given his earlier chuckle over the contest, I found it flattering he’d decided to participate. Could his actions be considered courting?

And was it wrong for me to mentally root for him? After all, I hadn’t actually met the other contestants.

Fuck all the thinking. What I needed was to blow off some steam and since I refused to call Drake for some horizontal tango action, the next best thing was dancing.

But first I needed a shower with my detachable sprayer. In my opinion, every girl should have one for her cleansing pleasure.