Yeah shopping in hell is fun.

You follow his directions and make it to the store without getting lost. On the way you see the city is just full of people and humanoid creatures of so many different kinds, you can’t even believe it. Your desire to avoid standing on the grating over the wailing mass of what you now are sure are tortured souls several times causes you delays as you have to let someone huge pass. Also several times you are eyed hungrily by some you are sure want to fuck you, others seem to want to kill and eat you.

Finally you walk in and see the shopkeeper you were sort of warned about. He is blue, his head is basically a 4 tentacled squid sitting on some man’s body. He is wearing a button up brown canvas shirt, very tight, with what seems to be a soft silk white undershirt with ruffles sticking out of every opening. Below this he wears tight leather pants and leather ankle boots. He speaks with a sort of cavernous sound in his voice, almost like an echo, “Well now that’s a refreshing sight, a little sissy embracing her inner girl. So sexy. I’m jealous you little bitch. Do a turn let me see that ass.” You sort of feel his mind pushing you to comply with his request, you give him a spin as you walk through the room. “Oh you resisted, but did it anyway I think I might be in love. What’s your name girl?”

“Riley.” You answer and step up to a counter where it appears you pay for things, “I’m here for a magic sword and I heard this was the place to go.”

He walks to the front door and flips the sign to closed and locks the door. “Let’s try something shall we.” He smiles, you don’t know how you know the look on his face is a smile as you can’t see a mouth, but his eyes are clearly smiling. “Get on your knees and suck my cock.” He opens his pants and unleashes a shockingly thick meaty cock at least a foot long with a thick mushroom head that seems almost too mushroom like, the tip is sort of flat and the shelf behind it seems like it would catch on someone’s insides.

“No.” You say flatly as you walk up to him. He stands a foot and a half taller than you.

“Get naked.” He commands and you are sure there is almost like mental gymnastics going on in your head as your mind dodges the attack.

“Why don’t you?” You suggest. “ I’m not feeling it.”

He strips naked in seconds, his thick rubbery cock seemingly not quite able to fully harden. He reaches out a tentacle from his face, then all four, his mouth is revealed, a cylindrical row of razor sharp beak like spikes that you are certain could pierce your skull with ease. “I must touch you. Your mind dodges my every attack. But if I can touch you you can’t resist.” You know what he is saying is true, you can feel it. If his tentacles touch your head he will surely bite down and suck the brain from your skull. That knowledge is somehow both terrifying and euphoric at the same time. A piece of you for whatever reason seems to be yelling, ‘Do It!’ The sane rational part simply requests, ‘Oh just shoot him already.’