Paying Respects

The parlor was a harmonious blend of modern Gothic and Victorian elegance. Deep slate walls met black wainscoting, and rich purple velvet curtains framed tall windows that let in the dying light of late afternoon. Chandeliers hung like iron webs from the high ceiling, casting shadows across black marble floors polished to a mirror sheen. Candles flickered in wrought-iron sconces, giving everything a warm, moody glow.

At the center of it all, raised on a few wide steps of black stone, sat your throne—a towering piece of craftsmanship in blackened wood and dark velvet, adorned with intricate carvings and gold thread accents in the shape of devil sigils.

You sat in it stiffly, legs spread slightly in an attempt to feel less like a statue. Nyx stood on the step beside you, her small hand gripping your arm tightly as she scanned the room with wary eyes. She’d more or less stayed the same, but her ability to pick up more vocabulary in just a couple weeks had been impressive. She could be quite sharp-tongued, though not to you. You kind of blamed Cerena for her influence, who had become one of her favorites out of your partners.

“This is excessive,” you thought.

“It’s appropriate,” Morgana replied smoothly from nearby, seated like royalty herself on a more understated lounge. “Lexi and I had it commissioned. It sends a message to those who wish to meet with you.”

“It screams midlife crisis meets middle school vampire romance novel.”

“And yet, here you sit, brooding handsomely atop your throne.”

You rolled your eyes.

“It’s just a chair, darling. It’s only when you deign to sit on it that it truly becomes a throne. I dare anyone to say you don’t look delicious.”

You fought the urge to sigh. Your daughter wasn’t making this easier. Nyx had been wary since the first witch arrived at your home. Her posture said it all: this was her dad, and anyone approaching you did so under suspicion.

Selena entered first, regal in a sleek suit that hugged her curves and was open enough to invite the eye. Her heels clicked across the dark floor with commanding precision. Her eyes sparkled as she bowed low—deeply and reverently.

The moment she crossed the threshold, your senses spiked. Her desire was complex—layered and perfumed like expensive wine. Beneath the mask of confidence and control was raw adoration, simmering like molten silk. You felt her want for you not just in lust, but in sacred devotion. She wanted to be owned, seen, used, and still lifted up in your eyes. She wanted to kneel, yes—but to matter while doing it.

“Lord Asmodeus,” she purred, voice silky with pleasure. “Your throne suits you. So handsome and appropriately placed above everyone else.” She straightened and tilted her head toward Nyx, who stood near your feet on the platform, arms crossed.

“Is this the little princess?” Selena asked warmly.

Nyx looked her up and down suspiciously. “Who are you?” she asked, not hostile—just guarded.

“I’m Selena. Your Daddy’s most loyal servant.”

Nyx raised an eyebrow. “You don’t look like a servant.”

Selena laughed. “Don’t worry, little one. You’ll learn that power and obedience aren’t always opposites.” She offered Nyx a wrapped package. “For you. A bracelet that nullifies poison and hexes. Very rare.”

Nyx took it, eyes narrowing a little before she said, “Thanks,” and then scooted closer to your leg, clinging to it.

Selena gave a knowing smile. “She takes after you. I can feel her magic.” The comment seemed to make Nyx swell with pride.

Before you could speak further, Rose strutted in, clad in tight black leather pants and a cropped tank that exposed her tattooed torso. Her dark hair was tousled in artful disarray, and her smirk was as sharp as the piercings on her face.

Her aura hit you like heat on bare skin. Immediate. Bold. Her desire was unfiltered, wild, spiced with amusement and challenge. She fantasized often, and vividly—you could sense flashes of rough hands, tangled sheets, her pinned beneath your weight or straddling you like a throne of her own. She craved sensation, contact, being marked—sex, yes, but more than that: claiming. Even here, even now, she was half-soaked from imagining it.

“Damn, Elara wasn’t exaggerating. You really are sitting on a throne.” Her tone was amused. “Looks good on you, papi.”

“Looks like it needs a cupholder,” you quipped.

She offered a playful wink. “Speaking of chairs, you should stop by my shop sometime. I’ve got some designs that’d look amazing on you. I could give you a private session.” Her tone suggested that-that might include more than ink.

“I know I’ve neglected my duties to you, Rose. I will meet with you soon. Before you leave today, speak with Lexi. She’ll get us set up with a time.”

“Gracias.” She responded in her playful voice.

Her eyes flicked to Nyx and softened slightly. “You must be Princess Nyx.” She studied her further. “De tal palo, tal astilla. She looks like her parents.”

Nyx eyed her. “Do you always wear that much metal on your face?”

“Almost always,” Rose said with a grin.

“That’s kinda cool.”

Rose chuckled, then held out a small rune-etched charm on a leather cord. “I brought you a gift. This will allow your papi to know where his precious daughter is at all times, something I'm sure every father can appreciate.”

“Thanks, I do appreciate that.” you said sincerely.

Nyx gave a grudging nod. “I guess she’s okay.”

Rose laughed, then sauntered off to the side, giving you an extra subtle wiggle of her ass before finding a seat.

Then came Ivy Delacroix, her long chestnut hair cascading over one shoulder. She wore a flowing skirt and a peasant blouse that clung to her generous curves. Her bracelets jingled softly as she approached, smiling warmly.

“Congratulations, Lord Asmodeus,” she said softly. “She’s beautiful.”

Nyx tilted her head. “You smell like flowers.”

Ivy laughed. “That’s because I work with herbs and potions.” She set down a small basket. “These are for her. Gentle tonics, immune boosters, and a salve for growing pains. All natural. I also brought some more interesting potions for you and your wives. Read the labels, though. Too much of some of these and you may break them.”

Her eyes shone a hint of sadism. It was well hidden against the eyes of most, but you could sense it from the moment you saw her. Her aura, once soft and maternal on the surface, now revealed itself like honey laced with razors. Beneath the sweetness was a deep, simmering hunger—one that ached to dominate, to tease, to push limits and watch you squirm in pleasure under her control. She fantasized about restraining you, challenging your authority with whispered commands and slow, aching torment. The idea of taming someone as powerful as you wasn’t intimidating—it aroused her beyond reason. Her magic was laced with intent, her potions carefully crafted not just for healing, but for obedience, sensitivity, and submission.

You stood to take the basket. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” she said with a lingering look. “You’ve given all of us something very special. I’d like to talk more… privately, when you’re free. A few pleasant requests to run by you. I’d also like to show you my craft firsthand.”

Before you could respond, Nyx tugged your pant leg. “She’s looking at you weird, Daddy.”

You placed a hand gently on her head. “Nyx.”

She pouted and muttered, “Sorry, Daddy.”

Then came Vivi, the youngest member. She wore an oversized sweater that hung off one shoulder and a knit beanie that flattened her midnight-blue hair. Her black eyes gleamed like polished onyx, and she carried herself with practiced indifference.

Her desire was murkier—unripe, cautious, but not absent. Her aura quivered with confusion, neediness, and curiosity. Beneath the detachment was hunger, not purely sexual, but emotional. She wanted belonging. Security. You could sense her wrestling with shame for her own urges, trying to mask them behind apathy. But there was heat inside her, unfocused but intense, directed at you like moths to flame.

She didn’t bow, but nodded casually. “Sup.”

“Vivi,” you greeted. “Glad you made it.”

She walked past the others and crouched in front of Nyx, holding out a worn deck of cards. “Wanna know your future, princess?”

Nyx perked up. “Yeah! Tell me!”

Vivi pulled one card—The Sun. “Big destiny. You’re gonna shine bright.”

Nyx smiled widely.

Vivi rose and turned to you. “Hey, Asmodeus. You got a minute later today? I wanted to ask about… you know.” You could sense from her aura that she was having some trouble. Elara had mentioned Vivi looking to exchange her clairvoyant powers in exchange for being a sort of sugar baby. You get to use her and she gets to live comfortably.

You gave her a nod. “We’ll talk in a minute. I will take care of you as promised.”

Then you looked around.

“Where’s Lilith?”

The room tensed.

Selena folded her arms, suddenly focused on the wall. Ivy busied herself adjusting her skirt. Rose scratched her neck awkwardly.

“…She didn’t come?” you asked.

Rose sighed. “She’s… probably sulking.”

“What exactly is she upset about?”

“She thinks you’ve been ignoring her,” Vivi said plainly. “You prioritized Elara and Selena’s contracts before hers. She’s kind of a prideful bitch, honestly.”

You frowned, making a mental note. “I’ll handle it.”

Morgana appeared at your side, her eyes calm. “A little attention, and she’ll fall back in line.”

You rested your hand on Nyx’s head again as she leaned against your side. She yawned, then whispered, “Can I sit with you daddy? I’m getting hungry.”

You chuckled, lifting her into your lap as you reclined on the ridiculous chair.