You’re both in hell, of course.

Vox was your boss, the tv demon - he had a tv head - he was your boss of a tech company. You two had conceived of a few one-night stands, but Vox seemed to be asking for these more regularly. Weekly. Being stuck-up, he wouldn’t even ask. It was forced.

You sat alone in a test room. You were on a stool, savouring silence, until you felt two clawed hands go beneath your arms and grab your breasts firmly, claws digging into you.

Not bothering for consent.