I do it for Blaney, coz Blaney does it for me.

The bad news is that Kit and the Miz aren’t back to normal.

Danhausen had managed to halt whatever misfiring of neurons that had them twitching, mumbling old catchphrases in the corner. But rather than returning to their usual selves, they were instead wiped completely clean. 

All further applications of science failed Danhausen, and he spent a whole week exhausting every trick he had. Regional acupuncture. Stereotactic procedure. Even external physical stimulation. Nothing changed. Kit and the Miz remained empty, mindless husks, gazing up at Danhausen with their blank eyes - all but begging for the space in their heads to be filled with something.

The good news is that this made them spectacularly easy to train. And Danhausen is more than pleased to have a pair of eager assistants.

It’s late at night. He blinks twice at the searing screen of his computer, then lifts his goggles to rub his eyes. All day he’d spent working on his new beast, sitting in the corner covered by a sheet, and now his spreadsheet stretched for hundreds of scrolling cells - heart rate differences, blood acidity, height, weight, and one sudden detour to write a new list of demands for Aldis to follow (“personal locker room with large throne bigger than locker room, mini fridge of infinite iced coffee” being chief among them). All in all, a productive day at work.

“Kithausen,” Danhausen says, turning to the man standing attentively to his right, “how many hours has Danhausen been working?”

“Nine hours,” Kit responds immediately, as conditioned. Danhausen hums triumphantly, placing the goggles down on the tray Kit offers up. 

“Wow! Lots of good work. Very productive! Very evil, yes. A little more and Danhausen might just figure out what the hell he’s making under there.” He gestures vaguely toward the behemoth thing still stretched out on the gurney beneath its shroud. “Oh, well. Break time.”

A snap of his fingers, and both men are already in action like dogs performing tricks. Kit strips Danhausen free of his white coat, leading him back to the lounge chair (one of the few backstage perks Danhausen was successful in twisting Aldis’ arm for); by the time Danhausen has the front of his shirt unbuttoned, the Miz is already back by his side, kneeling down and offering him an ice cold drink in a dripping glass. Danhausen takes it up in hand as if this were all normal, as if the Miz has been serving him like this for years.

“Very good, Mizhausen.” He tucks a hand beneath Miz’s chin, stroking the pulse point hidden there. Miz doesn’t make a sound, but his eyelids flutter shut as he allows Danhausen to touch him; briefly, Danhausen wonders if he can still feel pleasure in his fried, empty brain. He shrugs the thought away as he takes a sip.

“Ooh! Coca Cola Zero. Powerful stuff.” He chuckles, which fades off into a hum as he feels Kit’s hands upon his back. After more than a few bouts in the ring, Danhausen is well-acquainted with the prowess of Kit’s hands. Despite their well-manicured appearance, they’re strong and precise, which makes him perfect for his new purpose: coaxing the knots out of Danhausen’s back after hours spent hunched over a desk.

“Very nice, Kithausen…” Danhausen’s voice collapses in a shuddering breath as Kit kneads into sore, sensitive muscle. “So very talented…”

Like Miz, Kit remains silent, but at the sound of Danhausen’s praise something in his manner changes. The light touch of his fingertips grows even more careful, targeting the muscles that he knows always cause Danhausen pain. He works as efficiently as if he has a map of his master’s back committed to memory. And, considering how vacant his mind has become, perhaps he does.

Danhausen takes another sip of his drink and sighs, placing it back on the tray. The Miz is still there, waiting to take it away when called upon. Of course he is; he hasn’t been commanded to leave, and besides, Danhausen seems to like him where he can see him, where he can lightly thread his hand into his hair as a reward for his committed obedience. The Miz’s breath lightly hitches as he presses into Danhausen’s touch, his eyes dazed and glossy under the lights of the makeshift laboratory.

Now a soft moan is torn from Danhausen’s throat. Of course, he can’t forget Kit, whose steady hands are now working at his shoulders. The tension slides out of Danhausen’s muscles with every touch - and moves southward instead. Before he might have hurried to conceal his stiffening cock, but now that he’s alone with two men who follow his every whim unquestioningly…well, Danhausen is a bit less apprehensive of letting that long-buried side of himself shine through.

Then again, when he’d settled on the “assistant” uniforms for the two - white lab coats matching his own, a pair of tight black briefs each, and literally nothing else - it was probably already too late for Danhausen to hide his true nature any longer.

Danhausen can’t help but smirk. As much fun as Kit and Miz were to toy with before, he must admit: they’re a hell of a lot easier to deal with when they’re so pliant, so willing to do everything he commands.

Kit’s perfect fingers work out a particularly tough knot where Danhausen’s neck meets his shoulder, leaving him hissing through his teeth. One hand grips the arm of the chair, the other tightening in Miz’s soft hair. By now the bulge in his pants is impossible to ignore, and the resulting ache is drawing all those neglected needs back out to the surface.

Danhausen is hungry, and he needs to feed.

“Boys.”

Kit and the Miz halt, two dogs that have just heard the whistle. For a moment Danhausen just sits, situated between them; the center of control, of all their undivided attention. He allows his hands to idly wander, one caressing Miz’s jaw, the other tracing over the exposed ridges of Kit’s abs. He hesitates for just a breath, wondering if, even for him, this may be too far. But the hunger wins out easily; Danhausen’s hand falls down, dancing lightly over the front of Kit’s briefs. A few gentle strokes are enough, and soon Kit’s cock is swollen and straining through the fabric. Danhausen licks his lips, feeling the warmth of both of their bodies, hearing the growing roughness of their breath. No matter how vacant they’ve become, the physical reaction always carries through.

Danhausen snaps his fingers again. “Play.”

In an instant, they’re both in front of him, lab coats discarded onto the floor and briefs just about to join them. Kit has the Miz’s pair caught beneath the curve of his ass, which he palms relentlessly as their mouths crash together. It’s too rough, too animal and stupid to really be kissing; more of a performance of lips and teeth intended to make their master shiver. It’s already working, and they eagerly slide their tongues into each other’s mouths until they must pull apart to breathe. 

A thin string of saliva connects their lips as Miz moves back to jerk Kit’s briefs down, allowing his cock to bounce free. The head is already moist, shimmering with precome. Danhausen watches as the Miz spreads his thighs just enough for Kit to cant forward, trapping his tip between them. The sight makes him bite down on his knuckle until he nearly tastes blood.

Two of the most edible men in WWE, gone from hating his guts to obeying his every word. How could an incubus be so lucky?

Danhausen allows them to grind into each other for a little while longer. It’s amusing watching them, pulling each other to the edge before they forcibly shove it back down. Of course there’s no risk that they’ll climax with each other like this - not without Danhausen’s explicit permission. So he waits until he can see the slick coating the inside of the Miz’s legs.

With a gleam in his eye, Danhausen snaps again. “Couch.”

Another amenity Danhausen has managed to wrangle up for the space, this time by bribing a production assistant. It’s long and sleek, fitted with deep red leather cushions that are more than wide enough for the purpose they’re about to serve. Kit and the Miz collapse onto the couch, spreading their legs wide so that they can be inspected. Danhausen lifts himself up from his armchair, stalking in front of them. He tries to keep his hands from trembling as he undoes the front of his slacks, revealing the fullness of his cock. Both Kit and Miz train their eyes upon his swaying member, and no matter how blank their expressions, Danhausen swears that their pupils dilate. Dogs staring at a treat.

His gaze switches between the two of them. Kit’s dick is stiff, wet and reddened at the tip, clearly begging for friction. The Miz is in an even worse state - the folds of his cunt are flushed and swollen, slick dripping down the cushions and onto the floor. Danhausen approaches him first, laying a hand against his cheek.

“Mizhausen is more than ready to be touched, isn’t he?” He asks, uncharacteristically sweet. Miz’s expression remains still as he nods, as if he’s only dimly aware of his own body. He only understands the question he has been asked, and of the implicit command to answer.

“Yes-ss, master…”

Danhausen gives a huff of satisfaction. “So ready, soaking wet for Danhausen…but…” his eyes trace slowly to Kit, who sits listening attentively to every word. “I think Kithausen will need more work, first. Kithausen?”

Kit’s throat bobs as he swallows. His prick visibly twitches when he is addressed.

“Y-yes, master…”

Danhausen retreats to his work desk, where he slides open a drawer and begins rummaging around inside. “Get in position. On top. Mizhausen, under him.”

No sooner does the command leave Danhausen’s lips than their bodies acquiesce to it. Miz reclines into the couch, legs spread wide apart to accommodate Kit as he slots himself between them. He begins at his neck, kissing down from Miz’s collarbone to his navel, then licking a trail down the rest of the way until he finally reaches his pussy. A moan echoes through the makeshift lab as the Miz claws at the leather beneath him, Kit’s tongue tracing through his slick, sweet folds. Danhausen watches the way the Miz’s spine arches up from the cushion, and wonders if Kit’s tongue feels as wonderful as his hands.

After a minute of fumbling, Danhausen finally finds the hidden bottle of lube stashed in the drawer. With it in hand, Danhausen returns to the couch, eyes still trained on his assistants. Miz’s head is thrown back, glassy tears dribbling down his cheeks as he sobs. The springs creak beneath them as Kit hooks his arms around the Miz’s thighs, spreading them even further apart to bury his tongue deeper into his dripping pussy. A whimper, soft and high, escapes Miz as he bites down hard on his lip, forcing himself not to plunge over the edge. He hasn’t been commanded, he isn’t allowed.

Danhausen slips in behind Kit, whose perfect round ass is already held in the proper position. Lazily, Danhausen unscrews the cap of the bottle to douse his length, barely coating it with gel before slicking up his fingers. With aching slowness he traces around Kit’s twitching entrance, listening to the resulting gasp that’s smothered in the Miz’s folds. Again Danhausen licks his lips. Desire, finally unrestrained, claws through every nerve in his body.

“Very good…such good assistants for Danhausen, performing like this for him…let’s reward your loyalty…”

He plunges two fingers into Kit’s heat, purring as he feels the velvet-soft walls clinging to him. There’s no need for him to start off slowly - not when they’re alone, and not when Kit has been trained just for this exact use. He and the Miz both now exist just for this: to fuck and get fucked the way Danhausen sees fit.

Kit’s nails sink harshly into the Miz’s thighs as Danhausen’s fingers pump and curl deep into his trembling hole. It isn’t long before Kit begins following the rhythm as it’s set, hips rocking back and forth to match the pulse of his master thrusting inside him. Danhausen has to fight not to moan. No matter how many times he’s done this, Kit remains impossibly tight. 

“F-fff…focus,” Danhausen stammers out, “on Mizhausen…pleasure him while Danhausen gets you ready…”

“Mm, mm-hhmm…” Kit’s voice is muffled, reduced to a buzzing hum that makes the Miz squirm. He renews his energy, tongue pushing into Miz’s pussy with a speed and force that equals that of Danhausen behind them. His thumb slips upward, searching until finally finding the bud of the Miz’s clit, which he presses and rolls gently beneath his fingertip. It leaves him thrashing back against the couch, gasping for air but never getting enough to breathe. His hands fall blindly to the back of Kit’s head, lightly fisting in his hair. Danhausen feels a sick twist of cruelty pulse through him, and utters another command as he spreads his fingers apart in Kit’s entrance.

“Pull it.”

Miz obeys without hesitation, yanking on the dark tresses until Kit sobs against his pussy. The pull forces his back to bow into an even deeper curve, so sleek and sensual that Danhausen feels his cock throb. With one sharp motion of his wrist, Danhausen plucks his fingers free from Kit’s heat with a wet sound. He takes a moment to gaze at the whole picture. Kit on his knees, twitching and completely open, awaiting Danhausen’s dick. Miz sprawled out beneath him, legs and arms fitfully shaking as Kit’s tongue drags over his cunt in long, slow licks. Kit’s own cock swinging between his legs, bouncing with every motion and dribbling steadily into the same pool forming between the Miz’s thighs. 

Both bodies flushed, both bodies slick and shining with sweat. Both bodies just for Danhausen.

Fingers snap. “Up, Kithausen. You will breed Mizhausen while Danhausen uses you.”

Kit’s chin trembles (in the light Danhausen sees it shimmering with wet), mind already too fucked out and frayed to form full words. “Y-yessmmm…”

He rights himself onto his shaking knees, guiding his tip along Miz’s soaked cunt and pressing gently upon his entrance. He chokes on a whine, feeling the softness, the heat teasing against his slit; the whine becomes a full, helpless whimper when he feels Danhausen pulling his slender hips back to meet the head of his own cock.

“Now.”

Danhausen’s signal is all Kit needs. He drives forward, guiding his full, aching length deep into the Miz’s hot pussy. In almost the exact same moment he finds himself filled, Danhausen’s hips slamming against his ass with cruel force. The overwhelming sensations cause Kit to briefly freeze; one end stretched open, full of Danhausen’s throbbing cock, the other swallowed whole by the Miz’s soft, quivering cunt. 

As soon as Danhausen pulls his hips back, though, Kit immediately does the same, freeing himself from the sweet heat of the Miz surrounding him. Once again, Danhausen sets the rhythm that Kit unquestioningly follows, chasing every deep thrust into his hole by pounding Miz into the cushions below. 

In minutes the room echoes with the sound of sex, hips crashing together until Kit’s ass is warm, cherry red, until Miz’s sensitive cunt is flushed deep pink. Slick and lube mix between their legs, seeping through the cushions, dripping onto the floor. 

A loud crack comes from behind as Danhausen suddenly brings his palm down hard across Kit’s rear. Danhausen gleefully watches the ensuing chain reaction: Kit gasping, jerking sharply forward and burying himself even deeper inside the Miz; Miz brokenly shrieking and cinching his legs around Kit’s waist.

“Yes…very good…” Danhausen smiles despite the raggedness of his breath. “Fill him up, Kithausen…feel him so tight around you, the way I feel you clenching around me…”

Kit’s legs feel weak, barely enough to hold him upright. He still relentlessly, mindlessly plows forward, listening to the wet sound of skin on skin and flesh inside flesh. His hips grow numb, his ass sore as Danhausen keeps using his hole, punctuating every clash of their hips with strong smacks to either cheek. The Miz, too, is trembling beneath. Wet streaks of tears and saliva drip down his face as his body is helplessly used, rocked savagely with the combined force of the two men above him. 

And neither of them, Kit nor the Miz, will stop. The thought never even crosses their minds because it simply isn’t allowed to. They’re taught only to obey, and they will. They’ll lie here, wrecking each other and being wrecked until Danhausen finally decides they’ve had enough. 

Now, Danhausen feels it building at the base of his dick, and realizes that the time is coming fast. He tangles a hand into Kit’s hair and jerks his head back, growling low into his ear. 

“Go ahead. Fill his pussy up. Breed him like the slut he is.”

Kit’s eyes roll back to the whites as he, at last, has permission to give in. He thrusts one final time, so hard his knees buckle, and pumps the Miz’s cunt full of his hot come. Miz lets out a tremulous cry, his insides clutching tight to Kit’s cock and milking every drop until it’s flowing down his thighs.

The aftershocks roll through Kit with devastating force, shivering and clenching around Danhausen still buried inside of him. He can only make it a couple more thrusts before choking, flattening his hips to Kit’s ass and flooding him with his own seed.

“F-f-ffuuu…God…”

Danhausen’s trembling arms barely hold him up from collapsing into Kit’s back. He fights to steady his breath, combing his fingers back through his sweaty hair. Slowly, carefully, he frees his cock from Kit’s warm clutch. It sways as it’s released, streaked by remnants of his come - and still achingly hard.

Danhausen squeezes his eyes shut and sighs. There are downsides to being a demon, it seems. 

He reaches down to Kit’s entrance, still quivering and mostly open, and urges a fat drop of escaped seed back in with his thumb. Kit whimpers at Danhausen’s warmth; Danhausen leans down to nuzzle at Kit’s hair, tangled in uncharacteristic disarray.

“A-alright…Kithausen…” he says between gasps for air, “pull out…move aside.”

Kit moans low in his throat, raw and spent. His limbs quake as if boneless, but he moves as quickly as he can and slips his softened cock free of the Miz. Danhausen grabs Kit’s shoulders and maneuvers him to lie back, switching so that he’s the one nestled between Miz’s legs instead. He takes a moment to press a hand to Kit’s cheek, causing him to stir. He blinks at Danhausen with his blue eyes. His beautiful, stupid, empty blue eyes.

“You did wonderfully, Kithausen,” Danhausen says affectionately. “Now relax while Danhausen takes what he wants from Mizhausen.”

Kit exhales, allowing his eyes to fall shut. “Relax…” he repeats numbly. “Take…what you want…”

Danhausen rewards Kit with a quick kiss on the lips that makes him whine. “Good! Oh, and also, don’t lose any of Danhausen’s seed from inside you. That’s special.”

Kit’s mouth flickers at the order; Danhausen can’t tell from the angle he’s sitting at, but he thinks he may be smiling. 

“Y-yes…master…” Kit’s hand trails down the inside of his thigh, crawling back until he’s circling his hole. His breath barely stutters as he slides two fingers in deep, trapping Danhausen’s come where it belongs inside of him. “Keep you inside me…keep you inside…”

Satisfied, Danhausen turns back to the Miz, who lies dazed and motionless save for the slow, up-down heaving of his chest. Danhausen pauses to look in his eyes, just as glazed and dumb and blue as Kit’s. Pretty, he thinks. He wonders if he might have a type.

His gaze falls next to the puddle between the Miz’s legs, a mess of lube and come and slick dripping from his folds. Danhausen runs his fingers through it, gathering up just enough to coat his cock as he gives it a couple of firm strokes. With a hum, he takes hold of either of the Miz’s thighs, slinging them over his shoulders and leaning in until his tip blunts against the wet, pulsing entrance.

“You look very pretty after getting bred, Mizhausen. Now keep spread so Danhausen can make you even prettier.”

The Miz doesn’t even get a chance to affirm before the air is punched out of his lungs, Danhausen’s cock slid fully inside him. Immediately his pelvis is forced down, held into the tightest position while Danhausen fucks into him with enough speed that Miz almost instantly feels another orgasm sparking in his spine. There’s no struggle - thanks to the thickness of Kit’s dick and generous load, Danhausen takes everything he wants with no resistance at all. His length is caressed deliciously by soft wet walls, pulled in deep as if the Miz’s own body is begging to serve him. 

“Fuck…” Danhausen’s voice rumbles lowly, the animalistic want completely obliterating his usual pretenses. “Such a good, pretty assistant for me, Mizhausen…you and Kithausen…so good at obeying and getting fucked…”

The Miz is barely able to keen beneath Danhausen, doing his best to rock his hips down to meet every stroke as he’s filled. 

“Y-yesss…” he murmurs brokenly. “S-sogood…”

Danhausen’s body quakes as molten heat licks up his stomach. His pace grows sloppier, his vision blurring and darkening. 

One last thought seizes him. Releasing one of the Miz’s thighs, Danhausen continues thrusting as he reaches back and latches a hand tight around Kit’s cock, finding it once again thickened and throbbing. Kit lets out a strangled, high sound as Danhausen starts stroking his length. He quickly meets his intention, twisting and curling his fingers still inside of himself. In seconds his tip is wet and dribbling with precome. 

With a voice that’s little more than an animalistic snarl, Danhausen asks a question. 

“Who do you love?”

Even nearly dead from ecstasy, Kit and the Miz answer together. 

“Danhausen-!”

That’s enough. Danhausen drives his hips one final time against Miz’s cunt, brutal and deep, and floods him with his second load for the night. The Miz shudders, back snapping into a curve as he struggles to contain Danhausen’s come; feels it rushing through his completely spent and overstuffed pussy.  Behind them Kit lets free a wail, pelvis jerking up feverishly into Danhausen’s fist until finally stilling, emptying himself all over his master’s hand. 

Danhausen goes limp against the cushions, fully depleted. His prick has finally softened, resting inert against his inner thigh. For a minute he sits motionless, allowing the post-coital haze to wash over him in successive waves. Blindly, he reaches out for his two assistants, eventually finding their heads and guiding both to rest in his lap.

“Good…” Danhausen pants, the spinning of the room around him finally slowing. “V-very nice, very…”

He trails off into silence at the sight of them below. Kit and the Miz look utterly devastated, bodies glazed with sweat and come, every limb trembling and useless. And still, their beautiful brainless eyes remain trained up at him, like he’s the one thing around which the entire universe spirals. 

Danhausen exhales and smirks. He really has no idea how he got this lucky. 

“Alright, assistanthausens!” He cards his fingers through their hair and soothingly strokes, as though he’s lavishing attention on two beloved pets. “A good rest before more research. You’ve done very well, today.”

Kit and the Miz don’t have enough voice left to answer. But the way they both sigh and ease up into Danhausen’s touch is enough of an affirmation for him. 

/

A month later, and Kit and the Miz are back to their usual, Danhausen-averse selves. That much is obvious when he passes by them during a selfie-taking session in the locker room, and they both look at him like they’ve just tasted something foul. 

“Ew,” Kit says, “what do you want, you creepy ghoul?”

Danhausen gives them both a wide smile, drumming his fingers together - performing the full act as though nothing ever happened. “Hello, friendhausens! What are Kip and Mike Miz doing? Content for the social medias?”

The Miz snorts, waving a hand at Danhausen dismissively. “Like we’re gonna tell you. Get outta here, Danhausen. You’re blocking our light.”

Danhausen tries to hold his smile despite his disappointment. When he finally figured out how to restore Kit and The Miz’s normal brain function, he knew that he was doing the only moral thing. A demon is occasionally beheld to what’s “right”, even if it deprives him of a reliable meal. And of two very handsome lab assistants. 

Still, it probably wouldn’t sting so much if they hadn’t seemingly forgotten everything that occurred between them. No, they had returned just as they had been before: arrogant, sneering, and utterly cold toward Danhausen.

But Danhausen knows when he’s been beaten. So he turns his back with a little flourish of his cape and heads for the exit. 

“Okay then! Danhausen will see you after the show. Good luckhausens.”

He hears the two of them grumble derisively behind him. Freak, idiot, loser. Just as Danhausen reaches the door, he pauses.

“Oh, and by the way…” his fingers snap. “Play.”

He doesn’t turn around, but he can hear the sounds they make: Miz’s back crashing against the locker as Kit shoves him back; their hungry moans buzzing into each other’s throats as their lips crash together; clothes rustling as their hands searched instinctively for each other’s belts.

Then, almost as soon as it starts, they jerk apart with a gasp. Danhausen grins as he turns around to observe their horrified gaze, leveled first at each other, then, slowly, at the creature still standing in the doorway.