She's firing up the ol' "Sin Machine"

The High Prosecutor of Hell: it was a title that inspired both fear and awe. Demons were scary enough, but when you talk about one who accepts an occupation strapping hell's damned into a machine that chews them into tiny pieces, you're looking a whole other league of terrifying. As such, Judgement had a reputation to uphold... it was part of why she'd been so difficult for the Helltaker to talk into his harem. Even now, despite crashing at his apartment on the regular, she didn't think of it as "dating." She just thought of it as observing his parole. He was still a grievous sinner who'd committed debased crimes by leaving the mortal world to scrounge up the hotties forbidden to mere men. He'd just be fed to the Sin Machine at a later time.

Yes... Judgement's reputation was very important.

So that meant that even if she did want to, say, go on dates with the Helltaker or test out what he'd do with her as a boyfriend, that kind of romance was forbidden to her.

As such, Judgement relied on the next best thing when it came to getting her satisfaction as a woman. She'd packed light when she'd come up out of hell, but one well-used item came with her... at first glance, it looked a bit like one of her silver batons. Looking a little closer, one would realize that it wasn't designed to attach to anything. Instead, it was meant for inserting. The words "portable Sin Machine" were printed down the side in black and the simplicity of its structure cleverly concealed its several uses...

Once Judgement had checked the hallways to make sure no demons were running about, she retreated into the darkness of the laundry room she was using as her sleeping area; her huge, white eyes glowed in the darkness as she fiddled with the buttons on the device. An irritable scowl worked its way across her lips. The Helltaker's clothes... his smell... came from the mixture of dirty laundry atop the washing machine. It was muddled with the scent of everyone else's clothes, but it was still there. "I'm feeling like it's going to be a setting 9 kind of night..." Grumbling to herself, she flicked the switch on her personal massage device.

Judgement slid her booty-shorts down her dark legs, then the low-rise black panties she wore underneath, revealing a trim patch of other-worldly white hair just above her slit. Within the limited space of the laundry room, she stuck her tongue up and out one side of her mouth, then shimmied her body around until she'd managed to spread her legs and lean back into the crook of one corner, raising her left leg up on top of the dryer. Finally, she began to rub the now whirring head of the device up and down her slit. She squinted her white eyes shut and clenched her teeth, trying to keep her composure against the familiar feel of the automatic massage tool.

Despite her efforts to keep quiet, after a minute or two, she was thrashing her hips back and forth and had set the thing up to setting 14... a small plug came out the bottom side and began to rub itself against the hole revealed just below her pussy. The smell of the woman's sweat and her aroused sex began to mingle together with the laundry room smell; it was a scent highly undignified for a High Prosecutor. The demon's headlight-like eyes flickered open and shut, beating their eyelashes as she intensified the work of her pleasure device until it gave her the release she needed. "AAAAAAH! FUUUUUUCK! COMIIIIING!" Despite her discretion up to this point, she couldn't prevent herself from shouting that in her scary boss voice as she began to leak onto an old towel in the dryer room. The dryer and the frame of the wall both rocked with the motion of her elbows baring against them; her hips twitched back and forth with the feeling of release, beating against the laundry machine to her side with a dull, metallic thud.

... It was a pretty sorry state of affairs, she realized. A pattern of damp spots soiled the white towel beneath her feet, proof of her moment of need. Judgement cursed her weakness as she turned her butt towards the door and worked on hiding her personal tool where nobody would find it (at the bottom of the dirty clothes hamper). In that moment, her keen ears picked up a new sound near the doorway... She turned her fearsome scowl and burning eyes in that direction, as if threatening to incinerate whoever was intruding with just a glare...