Summary: You’re a slave in the house of the Demon Prince. Usually, you work in the kitchens, but today, you’ve been sent to scrub the terrace. You sing as you work, enjoying the chance for solitude…or so you thought. However, when you turn around, you find you have an audience. The Infernal Prince himself has been listening in, and your song seems to have caught both his attention and his heart.

CW: mention/discussion of slavery and ownership; innuendo; power imbalance; master/slave relationship; pet names

Usage:

• OK to record & monetize, as long as you give me credit in the video/audio description as the scriptwriter! I would also love to listen to the recording when it’s done–please send me the link on Reddit! Paywalling is okay; however, if you paywall, you must make it possible for me to listen to the finished product.
• Gender-flipping and small tweaks are okay (e.g., changing pronouns, leaving out/changing curse words), but no large edits are permitted.
• Feel free to use music or insert sound effects if you’d like. Any sound effects given are suggestions–use at your discretion. *Sound effects in bold, set apart by asterisks\*
• Any dialogue or reactions given by the Listener are purely for the benefit of the VA, to help them feel like they have something to respond to while they’re acting. Listener reactions in italics.
• Please let me know if you have any questions!

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\chuckles** Bravo! Bravo, indeed.

The Listener jumps, whirling around.

Oh, no, please—don’t stop on my account. I was rather enjoying myself. Your voice is like nothing I’ve heard in centuries...as soft and as rich as the deepening twilight.

[...]

Forgive you for what, darling? Didn’t I just say I was enjoying myself? What could you possibly have done to offend me?

[...]

What fool could mistake your voice for “noise”? Clearly, they have no taste. Besides, even if the rules do say that slaves should be silent, am I not the prince, the Lord of the Abyss himself? The infernal mountains themselves would crumble, if I told them to. So if I say you may sing, then you shall. In fact, I say it would be a crime for anyone to silence you. (studies the Listener) I haven't seen you around before. Surely, I would've remembered a lovely little thing like you. When did you—ah, wait; that’s right. Asfodar told me we’d gotten a new shipment the other day. You must be one of them. Who are you, my dear? What’s your name?

[...]

\chuckle** Such a timid little thing. Look at you, trembling like a flame in the wind. Don’t be afraid, darling. I don’t intend to harm you. You’ve done nothing to warrant any kind of punishment, let alone one as harsh as my hellfire. Or do you think I go around incinerating my slaves just for the fun of it? Of course not…it would be awfully inconvenient to have to keep re-stocking my staff every other week.

[...]

While it’s good to see that you know your place, I can hardly hear you when you’re kneeling like that. Your head is bent so far, it’s practically touching the ground. Stand up. That’s right, my little songbird; on your feet. Your Infernal Prince commands it.

The Listener stands.

That’s better. Now, all that’s left is to take that chin…and tilt it up to meet my gaze.

Brief pause.

(soft) By Beelzebub’s wings…a face as exquisite as your voice. Are you a Siren, then? At least partially one, given your talents.

[...]

Human? Really? Intriguing. Where did you come from, my dear? How did you come to be here, in my palace?

[...]

I see. So, you were stolen from the mortal realm during a raid. The slavers brought you here to Silsoran, and sold you to the palace. What do you do here?

[...]

Ah. But, if you usually work in the kitchens, what are you doing out here on the terrace?

[...]

Ah, of course. Hence the scrub brush, and the bucket of soapy water. This isn’t one of your regular chores, then. In that case, I suppose I’m quite fortunate that I chose this time and place to take a break.

[...]

\chuckle** Oh, long enough. Three or four songs, perhaps?

[...]

\laughs** Look at those cheeks! Glowing like burning coals. (touches the Listener’s cheek) Mmm…they’re even warm to the touch. Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more radiant. You’re making it harder and harder for me to keep my composure.

[...]

Hmm? I heard that little gasp. What’s the matter, darling? Does my touch burn you? I've been told it's like a brush with an open flame. Or, is it perhaps the feel of my obsidian claws, as sharp as a razor? Don't be afraid, darling. True, they could easily slice through anything, be it metal, rock, or bone…but as I’ve said, you have nothing to fear from me. Or, if it's none of that, then perhaps it’s just the honor of having the Prince of the Abyss himself caress you. Is that it?

[...]

Well, I suppose that depends. What is it you wish to ask me?

[...]

Hmm? My favorite of your songs? You’d really ask me to choose between them? Well, I quite enjoyed the ballad of the dryad and her lover, the water nymph. If only he had lived. Fate is an unforgiving harlot, but at least the dryad was granted the mercy of staying beside him for all eternity, becoming a tree on the bank of his pond. If I remember correctly, it was called a “weeping willow”; is that right?

[...]

Yes…beautiful, indeed. Your mortal stories are quite different from ours. Our abyssal tales are largely about conquest…subjugating the weak; teaching mortals their place. It’s refreshing to hear a story that isn’t about a battle, or a war. However, to answer your question, I think my favorite was the one about the maiden and the owlbear. The way she took pity on the poor creature, setting her own fear aside in order to pluck the thorn from its paw. I admit, it was somewhat cliché that the creature ended up being a prince in disguise, but even a demon like myself can appreciate a happy ending. Her kindness reminds me of you.

[...]

\chuckle** You’re humble, on top of everything else. A voice more alluring than a Siren, beauty to rival Lilith herself, and a tenderness that’s withstood even the cruelest blows of fate…and yet, you slave away in the kitchens. Well, now...that won’t do, will it?

[...]

Oh, no, my little bird. Put that brush down. You won’t be scrubbing anything else today. Or ever again, in fact.

\Snaps fingers\**

You. Take my little bird to the east wing. Give them a room of their own, some new clothes, and full access to the baths. They are to have all the privileges of the harem afforded to them. And if anyone dares to argue, let them be flogged.

[...]

That’s right, my dear. You are longer a mere kitchen slave. As of now, you are part of my harem.

Never again will these beautiful hands be split and chapped from harsh soap and scrubbing. Instead, you’ll spend your days reclining on silken couches. You’ll be given fresh food, warm baths, private gardens to walk in. You can sing to your heart’s content, without fear…and your only task will be to serve me, however I deem fit.

[...]

\chuckle** Oh, yes. Rest assured, I will definitely have you sing for me. (seductive) However…your voice is hardly the only alluring thing about you, darling. Your singing is beautiful…but so is the rest of you. If you continue to please me, you may even receive the ultimate honor. Yes—that’s right. Imagine…a mere human, a former kitchen slave, getting to share the bed of Prince Bor’imaz himself.

[...]

There’s that humility once again. Please, don’t think yourself unworthy, my dear. My word is law, after all. And I say you are as worthy as even the highest nobles of Silsoran.

[...]

What? \chuckle** Oh, my darling…still with that endearing shyness. Come, now. You wouldn’t seriously think of going back to the kitchens. Not when I’ve offered you the world, all in an instant. You must simply be overwhelmed with your good fortune. Yes, that must be it…well, I assure you, it’s not some sort of cruel trick. It’s real. You truly get to be mine. Now, run along and get yourself washed up. Make sure you keep yourself presentable…I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to restrain myself. \Soft kiss\** Until we meet again, my little songbird.