Page 68 of The Dark Lord Awakens (Dark Service #1)

“That’s… convenient,” I murmured, cautiously holding the base.

It felt warm in my hand, almost alive, and as I concentrated on a more reasonable dimension, it obligingly shrank to a less terrifying size.

“Okay, that’s actually pretty impressive.

Like a Goldilocks dildo—not too big, not too small, just right. ”

Mr. Snuggles made a huffing sound, and I swear his eye roll was practically audible.

“You know what? Fine,” I said, giving up on modesty or propriety. “If you’re determined to stay, at least turn around or something. This is weird enough without you staring.”

Mr. Snuggles did not turn around. If anything, he seemed to settle in more comfortably, his eye fixed on me with what looked like anticipation.

I rummaged through the rest of the box, discovering an assortment of mysterious items. There were some silver ribbonlike things labeled “Celestial Restraints,” glowing crystals, various bottles and vials, and some strange black spheres that seemed to absorb light.

There was also a book with the promising title The Submissive’s Handbook: A Beginner’s Guide to Pleasure , which I quickly shoved under my pillow before I could dwell too much on why that particular title caught my interest. The cover featured an illustration that made me question whether spines were actually supposed to bend that way.

“This is ridiculous,” I told myself, even as I reached for the oil. “I’m the Dark Lord of Iferona, not some horny teenager experimenting in his bedroom. I should be planning infrastructure improvements or practicing my evil laugh, not testing magical sex toys.”

Except that’s exactly what you are, a traitorous voice in my head pointed out. A horny, inexperienced mess who’s about to use a magical sex toy while fantasizing about his butler. Your résumé might say ‘Dark Lord,’ but your browser history would definitely say ‘desperate virgin.’

I unscrewed the cap on the oil, noting that it was meant to “enhance sensation tenfold” and required only a small amount.

Given my current state, that seemed like overkill, like using a flamethrower to light a birthday candle, but curiosity won out.

I dabbed a tiny drop on my finger and cautiously applied it to my neck, a relatively innocent place to test its effects.

The sensation was immediate and intense—a bloom of warmth that spread outward from the point of contact, making my skin hypersensitive. Even the slight brush of air as I moved sent shivers of pleasure across the treated area, like being tickled by invisible feathers made of pure sensation.

“Okay,” I breathed, “that’s… wow. That’s not enhancement, that’s a complete nervous system upgrade.”

Mr. Snuggles was watching me with obvious interest, his head tilted as if studying my reaction for future reference. Which was… disturbing on multiple levels.

“Do you mind?” I asked him pointedly. “This is getting creepy. Don’t you have dragon things to do? A treasure hoard to organize? Maidens to terrorize? Anything?”

He responded by settling more comfortably at the foot of the bed, curling his tail around himself like a cat preparing for a long nap. His purple eye remained fixed on me with unnerving attention.

Emboldened by the success of the first experiment, I applied a small amount of oil to more strategic areas—my inner thighs, my nipples, and with only slight hesitation, my already hard cock.

The effect was electric, turning every slight touch into an almost overwhelming sensation, like someone had replaced my nerve endings with live wires connected directly to my pleasure centers.

I leaned back against the pillows, one hand wrapped around myself, the other exploring the newly sensitized landscape of my body.

The enhancement oil amplified every sensation, making even the lightest touch feel like a direct line to my nervous system.

But I knew from my earlier attempts that this alone wouldn’t be enough.

It was like upgrading the sound system in a car that had no engine—better quality but still not going anywhere.

With a mixture of anticipation and nervousness, I reached for the resized toy and the small vial of lubricant that had come with it.

I’d never done this before, but theory and fantasy had given me a general idea of the mechanics.

I was like someone who’d read a thousand restaurant reviews without ever actually tasting the food.

“Just remember what you learned from those ‘educational videos’ in college,” I muttered to myself, squeezing probably way too much lubricant onto the toy. “You know, the ones you had to watch with headphones and the door locked and your finger hovering over the escape key.”

I suddenly remembered I wasn’t alone and glanced down at Mr. Snuggles, who was watching the proceedings with what appeared to be scientific curiosity.

“Seriously? You’re still here? This is beyond inappropriate,” I said weakly, but I was too far gone in need to really care anymore. The oil had made every nerve ending hyperaware, and the emptiness inside me had become an ache that demanded to be filled.

The lubricant warmed on contact, giving off a faint scent of something exotic I couldn’t quite place—like cinnamon and thunderstorms had a baby.

I positioned myself on my back, knees bent, feeling both ridiculous and desperately turned on.

The cool air against my overheated skin sent shivers down my spine as I reached between my legs, tentatively circling my entrance with slick fingers.

To my surprise, my body responded eagerly, accepting the intrusion with a readiness that startled me. It was like this form had been waiting for this moment while my brain was still catching up to the program.

“Okay,” I whispered, positioning the toy at my entrance. “Here goes nothing. Or possibly everything. Let’s find out.”

Mr. Snuggles made a soft rumbling sound that seemed almost like encouragement, nodding his tiny head as if giving approval.

“This is so weird,” I muttered, momentarily distracted by the absurdity of having a dragon cheerleader for my sexual experimentation. “I’m getting performance anxiety with an audience here.”

The initial stretch burned slightly, a strange pressure that walked the line between discomfort and pleasure. I bit my lip, breathing through it, until suddenly?—

“Holy FUCK!” I gasped as the toy slid deeper, hitting something inside me that sent electric shocks of pleasure racing up my spine. My back arched off the bed involuntarily, every nerve ending suddenly firing at once. “What the—how did I not know about this?”

Mr. Snuggles made a smug little huffing sound that seemed to say “I told you so,” his purple eye gleaming with what looked suspiciously like satisfaction.

In my mind, it wasn’t silicone inside me but Azrael—his cool hardness stretching me open, his weight pressing me into the mattress. I could almost see him above me, those crimson eyes darkened with lust, watching my every reaction with predatory intensity.

“Azrael,” I moaned, the name escaping before I could stop it.

Mr. Snuggles immediately made a disgruntled sound, almost like a growl, his eye narrowing in what appeared to be disapproval. I barely registered his reaction, already too far gone in my fantasy to care about a dragon’s judgment of my choice in fantasy partners.

The fantasy unfolded in vivid detail as I began to move the toy.

Azrael would pin my wrists above my head with one hand, the other gripping my hip hard enough to bruise.

His lips would claim mine in a kiss that was more possession than affection, his tongue invading my mouth the way his body invaded mine.

I’d be helpless beneath him, completely at his mercy, and loving every second of it.

“Please,” I gasped to my empty room, lost in the fantasy as I worked the toy deeper. “More, I need?—”

In my mind, Azrael’s cool mouth trailed down my neck, leaving marks that would show everyone who I belonged to. His teeth would scrape against my pulse point before biting down, the pain only enhancing the pleasure. I imagined his voice, that velvet darkness whispering filthy promises in my ear.

“You’re mine,” fantasy-Azrael growled. “Say it. Tell me who you belong to.”

“Yours,” I panted, increasing the pace, my free hand working frantically over my length. “I’m yours, Azrael, please?—”

The dual stimulation was incredible, better than anything I’d experienced before, but somehow it still wasn’t enough.

The pleasure built and built, a coiling tension that promised release but somehow kept it just out of reach.

It was like climbing a mountain only to discover the peak kept moving higher.

“Why isn’t this working?” I groaned in frustration, sweat beading on my forehead as I chased a climax that remained stubbornly elusive.

My arm was starting to cramp from the awkward angle, and my wrist protested the continued movement, but stopping now seemed impossible.

I was trapped in a delicious torture of my own making.

The toy suddenly began to vibrate, startling a cry from my lips. I hadn’t activated any settings, but it seemed to be responding to my desperation, intensifying in a way that finally, finally pushed me toward the edge I’d been desperately seeking.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUCK—” The words dissolved into incoherent moans as the first orgasm crashed through me like a tidal wave.

My back arched off the bed, toes curling, vision whiting out as pleasure more intense than anything I’d ever experienced ripped through me.

I came harder than I thought possible, Azrael’s name torn from my throat as my body convulsed around the toy.