Call Me Out v. NSFW

[misheard]

You probably know the drill. Reply with a thread starter and a character in the title, receive NSFW thread. Current muselist!

I'd do fancy code but tbh I am willing to put up too many of those characters to post pictures. Just don't pick the kids and we're good.

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[whitehairedprettyboy]

[ ...

..........

Him and his big mouth. ]

Why have you demons got such an obsession with making me wear dresses?! I am not putting that thing on!

[ It's even got the same sort of color scheme as Shendu's, but at least Shendu had had the decency to insist that his wasn't a dress, no matter how much it may have looked and felt like one. With this one, there really isn't room for any such doubt. It's lacy and frilly and absolutely not going on his body. ]

[satanophany]

Oh, no. You are. Now hold still.

[She tackles him in an attempt to get his clothes off - and sorry, she doesn't mind if they tear.]

[whitehairedprettyboy]

Get off!

[ If Valmont had thought Satanick would be easier to overpower as a woman, he's sadly mistaken. Satanica has him pinned and struggling uselessly in a matter of seconds. ]

Stop - stop! Do you have any idea how much this suit cost?!

[ Shendu hadn't taken particularly good care of his wardrobe either, when he'd deigned to wear it at all, so he's got precious few of these suits left. Any more of them destroyed and he's going to have to start borrowing clothes from the Enforcers, and no one wants that. ]

[satanophany]

I can either take it off you or you can take it off yourself. Those are your options ♥

[She's not unreasonable. She at least will give him that choice.]

[whitehairedprettyboy]

[ Siiiiiigghhhhhhhh. ]

You are entirely as awful in this form as you were in the other one, do you know that?

[ He begins taking his shirt off. ]

[satanophany]

I don't know why you expected anything different, I'm still me~

[Sitting back to watch.]

[whitehairedprettyboy]

Well, that's your problem right there, isn't it.

[ SIIIIIIIGGHHHH. You better be enjoying the view, Satanica. Not that Valmont's making that particularly easy, given how he's doing his best to awkwardly turn away from her as he strips. What a blushing virgin, honestly. ]

[satanophany]

V, you'd be the worst at a strip show. The absolute worst.

[Still watching though.]

[whitehairedprettyboy]

If it's a strip show you're looking for, I suggest you go harass an actual stripper. And don't call me that. We're not on a nickname basis.

[ Somehow, being made to take his clothes off for an audience feels even more utterly humiliating when that audience is female. He knows it's still Satanick in there, but that doesn't change the fact that it's a woman sitting there leering at him as he undoes his trousers. His face burns. ]

[satanophany]

But we're so intimate already, V! Or would you like me to think of something cuter, Valkins?

[Satanica, of course, will not respect any request he makes not to call him something adorable and will just come up with worse and worse nicknames.]

[whitehairedprettyboy]

[ ...Valkins?

Kill him now. ]

Shut up, shut up, shut up - !

[ Okay, his clothes are finally off, with the exception of his underwear. Being forced to wear a dress is bad enough; going commando in one is not going to happen. ]

[satanophany]

Vally-dear? I can go all day.

[She shoves the dress into his arms.] On. Don't even think of tearing it, because I have far worse.

[whitehairedprettyboy]

That is not my name.

[ He holds the dress out at arm's length, gingerly, as though the cooties might bite him. He's... not actually sure how to put it on, now that it comes down to it. How on earth do women deal with all these ties and laces and... things?

But he's not going to ask for Satanica's help. He's not, and so he takes a deep breath and spends the next several minutes trying to wrestle all its pieces into the right places. By the time he's gotten everything more or less where it should be on him, it almost feels like an accomplishment, if accomplishments were accompanied by a crushing sense of utter humiliation. Now there's only one thing left to... ]

...Er.

[ Whose bright idea was it to make this damnable garment lace up in the back? ]

[satanophany]

[Satanica sees he's having trouble, but doesn't offer to help, not until he comes to the ties in the back. She can't help but giggle then.]

Well, go on. You've done such a wonderful job with the rest, surely you don't need my help, do you?

[whitehairedprettyboy]

[ Is this funny to you, Satanica :|

To his dubious credit, Valmont's actually making an effort to struggle with the laces. Unfortunately, it's kind of impossible to lace something up behind one's back, and so this only succeeds in making him look like more of an idiot. This eventually seems to sink in, and when he finally turns to Satanica, he tries very hard not to look completely at her mercy. ]

Well - you were the one who wanted me to wear this bloody thing, weren't you? Don't just sit there!

[satanophany]

I should tell you to say please, but~ that's close enough!

[She circles around and does up the back for him, humming cheerily all the while.]

[whitehairedprettyboy]

[ Mutter. ] I wouldn't have, anyway.

[ He flinches when her hands brush against his skin. Satanick normally wears gloves, at least at first, and he hadn't realized until now that Satanica's hands were bare. It shouldn't matter, but it does, somehow. ]

Well. I hope you're quite satisfied with how ridiculous you've made me look.

[ That dress looks pretty damn good on him, actually. But don't tell him that. ]

[satanophany]

[What's that, bracket text? Don't tell him something?]

No, no, you're really cute in that~ It looks good on you! You should wear dresses more often, you have the figure for it.

[whitehairedprettyboy]

[ It... what? It looks good?

Valmont suddenly finds himself experiencing intense internal conflict. On the one hand, it's a dress, and it's Satanick. On the other hand, it goes against his every instinct to argue a compliment paid to his appearance, even in circumstances as humiliating and uncomfortable as these. On the third hand... no, don't let's start thinking about unusual numbers of hands, shall we. ]

...I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I'm a man. I haven't got the intended figure for any sort of a dress.

[ Conveniently, this isn't a denial of anything else she'd said. ]

[satanophany]

Yes, yes, I know, but some men look terrible in dresses.

Now, I believe we were going to have tea and talk about our feelings?

[She waves her hand and there's a table, with teacups and a pot of warm tea. Have a seat.]

[whitehairedprettyboy]

Oh, for god's -

[ ...Wait. That's tea. That is proper tea, not the cheap American stuff he's been forced to subsist on for months now. Actual, real tea.

Damn it. ]

I doubt we'll have much to talk about. I believe I've made my feelings on this situation quite clear.

[ But he takes a seat anyway. ]

[satanophany]

I love it when you're agreeable.

[She'll even pour them both cups of actual fancy tea before having a seat herself, humming cheerfully.]

[whitehairedprettyboy]

[ He pulls the nearer cup toward himself hastily, as though Satanica might take the opportunity to slip something into it were he to let it sit unattended for too long. This is silly, of course, because if the demon had wanted to tamper with his tea she would have already done so.

Come to think of it, he realizes he has no idea what exactly this particular tea might be made of.

...He tries not to think of it. ]

Agreeability has nothing to do with it. The sooner I comply with your ridiculous demands, the sooner this pointless charade will be over.

[ Hopefully. ]

[satanophany]

That's agreeable enough to me.

[She sips her tea almost delicately. Her manners can be impeccable when she feels like it.]

So then, feelings, hmmm~ Oh, I know! What do you think about me?

[As though there were anyone else she would ask about first.]

[whitehairedprettyboy]

[ He takes a sip of his own tea, very cautiously, just in case. It doesn't taste like eye of newt or anything, though, so he takes another. It's actually good. Who knew? ]

I think you're awful.

[ Really, does she even have to ask at this point. ]