"If I wished to be lectured on the matter of 'creative writing' you would not have been my first pick." My expression was flat, lacking affect. Not that it mattered; a horned, full-faced helmet concealed my features. Sariel pouted.
"I am your publisher, you teal-plated golem, and I will lecture you as I see fit," she hissed, her voice sharp. A demon's fuse was short and Sariel was not exception. "Your work is abysmal! Your prose is pompous and pretentious. You lack the ability to create characters that are interesting or sympathetic, and your plots are contrived. It's clear you don't even know how to write proper smut!"
We were, by all standards, an odd pairing. Sariel was a demoness, an exceptionally good-looking one at that, who used to hold some minor rank in the tawdry circles of raunchy writing. She'd something of a fall from grace. Had it not been for my most generous retainer fee and the particulars of our contract, Sariel would've be pimping out succubi pussy to foolish adventurers right about now. Instead, the pearly-horned demon was here at my request, attempting to salvage my fledgling career as a writer; she wasn't doing so well.
"My work is fine," I groaned, a poor recipient of criticism. "I'm getting better with each prompt."
Sariel snorted. "You're not 'getting' anything, you're just repeating what you've already done over and over again. There's no progress there, only repetition. You need to learn to think outside the box. You need to start thinking about your readership, and how they'll react to your stories. You need to find new ways to shock them, and excite them, and make them cum."
"That's easy for you to say," I muttered.
Sariel folded her arms beneath her bosom, perfect orbs that strained beneath her cream-colored blouse. "As your editor, I can assure you that it is not. You've written hundreds of stories the canter around bedding exotic monster-girls; when is the last time you've actually fucked one?"
"Well, let's see..." I thought back to my recent escapades. It had been decades. I placed my quill upon the desk of my study with a dull clack, and leaned back in my chair. "I guess it's been a while."
"A long while," she agreed, crossing her legs and leaning forward. "And that's why your readership is dying off. You need to get out..." Sariel hesitated, her brow crinkling in thought, "There!" she exclaimed, slapping her hands down on the table. "Why don't we take a trip? Go somewhere where you can experience things firsthand. Think of it as field research! It could be exciting!"
Exciting? For Sariel, surely; the demoness's eyes sparkled like ruby orbs.
"We?" I asked. "Are you coming?"
"Of course I am," she replied, straightening up and smoothing out her skirt. "I want to see how you do things, and what you think. If I'm going to help you, I need to know more about your process. Perhaps you could use some—tips?"
"Tips regarding?" I was no fool, and Sariel was a monster-girl herself. Demons were a high-ranking species among the myriad of lusty creatures that roamed our world. They were powerful, dangerous, and prone to seduction. I was not entirely naïve.
"Sex," she said simply. "Allow me to level with you 'wizard-boy'," Sariel's tone flattened, bluish-hued face narrowing, "you don't have much of an excuse 'not' to get out. You've done it all, but you haven't done 'them' all. I'm willing to bet that beneath coffin of armor you must have something that the ladies like."
The prospect of leaving my fortress elicited a dry sigh. Sariel was right, as much as I hated to admit it. Despite my unmatched power, wealth and sorcerous might, I was a subpar writer at best. I needed to be out in the world, experiencing life. I needed to be doing something, anything other than sitting at my desk, penning endless pages of smut.
"You are—persistent. Very well." I stood, motioning my hand in a lazy circular motion. In its wake, nascent trails of arcane energy swirled into the outer foundations of a yawning portal; loose pieces of parchment disappeared into the hungry void. "You wanted a trip? In we go."
Like a butterflies wings, Sariel's eyelids fluttered in confusion, "W-Wait, now? I h-haven't even had time to pack!" There was something endearing about a flustered demon, "My clothes—my products! I have a routine! Do you think this skin naturally—" Sariel's manicured fingertips feverously rapped upon her ivory horns.
"In." I whispered, and with that, the two of us were sucked into the portal, carried to an optimal destination for romancing lewd ladies; my stories would never be the same.
***
The arcane gate had flung us to a random location. A grassy plain dotted by trees and shrubs stretched before us, stretching as far as the eye could see. To our left lay a small river, flowing lazily past a few shabby buildings and crumbling stone walls. The air was warm, heavy with humidity, and buzzing with insects.
"This is ridiculous," Sariel complained, turning away from the sight. "Where are we?"
"I have no idea," I admitted. I'd teleported randomly, hoping to find a suitable place for our erotic encounter. I didn't expect to wind up in the middle of nowhere, though. "Let's explore."
"Explore?" Sariel repeated, folding her arms and tilting her head.
I stared at her incredulously, the verdant light of my helmets eyeports glowering my mystic energies, "Yes. Explore. Now come along; you wanted this."