Monday, April 16, 2012

Reallocation of Resources


Kivra made direct eye contact with me for the first time.  I swallowed nervously.  She glanced back at Gus.  

“Damn it, Gus, I was hoping you were lying,” she said, sounding annoyed.

Her demeanor was changing from one of anger to one of mere frustration, and I liked how that looked as far as the odds of her destroying me was concerned.

“Sorry, Kivra,” Gus said with a shrug.

She folded her arms across her chest, shook her head and began pacing.  “So the little bastard flew the coop, huh?” she asked.  “It figures he threw one last dig at me before he ran off.  What a fuckin’ coward.” 
She turned and gave me an appraising look.  “So…you’re the new Devil?  That means you’re in a position to help me.”

I blinked.  I swallowed.  I breathed.  I swallowed again.  “What do you mean?”

She stood in front of the desk and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the surface and propping her head in her hands.  It was a bizarre, girlish gesture for someone who’d come blazing in a few moments ago, blasting doors to pieces.  It also had the distracting quality of putting her hanging breasts in my direct line of sight.

“The last guy in your spot decided to downsize my department before he left,” she explained.  “He gave one last order to have three hundred demons transferred out of my division just so he could dick me over and get the last word in.  All I need you to do is give the order to have those three hundred demons transferred back so I can resume my work uninhibited.”

I looked over at Gus.  He shrugged.  “Look, bro, you own my soul.  That means you tell me what to do, not the other way around.”

I turned back to Kivra and timidly asked, “What work is it that you do?”

She stood, smiled charmingly, and slipped into a seated position on the desk, so that now I could observe her body in profile and admire her buttcheek, thigh, and calf, which she’d stretched out along the edge.  “I’m the head of your most important department, the focal point of existence down here,” she said proudly, licking her lips.

“What is that?” I prompted, squirming in my seat.  She was making me more and more uncomfortable by the second.  Gus, I noticed, was observing her with great interest from a safe distance.

“The Torture Division,” she replied.

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