#naughty devil

The Archduchess stepped towards Raphael, naked as his name day, bound and tied at the wrists while he sat on the bed, knees and pert little backside up. Just the way he should be. Presented for breeding. Haarlep was dressed in a pair of black heels and a pair of fishnet stockings that stopped at their thighs.

Between their legs stood a thick leather rod, strapped around her hips, erect and eager to enter the devil's tight little entrance. But first, a she-devil must get their little toy all worked up and ready for such a thick, mighty rod.

"Positively eager," Haarlep chimed, all confidence and dominance as they slapped Raphael's exposed rump with a flogger, the leather strips leaving red welts in their wake. She did it again before she put a knee to the bed, turning Raphael's face by pressing the flogger to a cheek. Yellow eyes looked at brown, the Archduchess' lips curling to a wicked smirk.

"Are you hungry, my dear puppet?" Her eyes fell to the fake phallus that stood at attention before his eyes. "You're about to have a feast, my dear. But first, we wouldn't want that lovely little backside of yours to feel like an aching virgin, would we? Open your mouth, darling, make it nice and wet so when it slips inside you, it won't be so agonising."

Haarlep didn't give Raphael any time to protest, as the incubus pressed the hard phallus into his lips and shoved it down his throat, holding him there by his hair, now clutched into her fist.

Haarlep's eyes locked on Raphael's, golden embers bright with the lust that engulfed the room, so thick that it could have shattered from a hard breath. The anger was just as potent, Raphael's eyes pinned on Haarlep's watching him from where he was seated. Not just seated, but bound, a prisoner of Mephistopheles as he was strapped down to the chair, arms tied behind his back and ankles bound to the wooden furniture.

Haarlep had to wonder what exactly it was that Raphael had done to piss Daddy dearest off this time (and why it was his punishment to suffer along the way). The visits to Cania were always such a dramatic ordeal. Most times, it had the master of the House returning in one of his signature moods. Hellfire would threaten to engulf the inhabitants, lest they move out of his way. Those that knew Raphael well enough would plan their exit quickly, but those that did not... Well, Haarlep enjoyed feasting on their charred remains, and doting on his precious brat as he'd offer a burnt limb in some kind of peace offering. Either that or his lips wrapped around a certain needy devil cock.

An unfortunate turn of events it had been this evening, when no other than Mephistopheles himself had returned alongside his son. The entire House had turned cold. So cold that the infernal engines threatened to stop and the House of Hope could have plummeted into the wasteland of Avernus' surface.

Haarlep may have preferred that... maybe, if it weren't for those angry eyes that were glued to his. Raphael detested the idea of his little play thing, his perfect copy, getting touched by his father. It killed him to see it, to know it, to know that Mephistopheles was claiming his personal incubus--and Haarlep (though he held no love for Mephistopheles) felt his cock thicken at the sight of his little pissed off brat.

The bed creaked and groaned as Mephistopheles fucked him hard and raw from behind, that large Archdevil cock filling his belly. Haarlep's claws scratched at the bed, tearing soft, red silks that matched his skin, the scent of his fiendish blood mixing with the detest, sweat and intoxicating scent of Raphael's anger and arousal. He may have hated it, but he loved it also. The sight of himself being punished by his father. Oh, he'd never admit it. The devil was far too proud for that, but he reeked of it. The shame. The excitement, and the seed that dribbled from his own clothed erection.

"Yes, master," Haarlep crooned in a hot whisper, his voice shaken and trembling in a way that Raphael could never make it. "Punish your naughty son."

Mephistopheles grabbed his hair and pulled his throat back, biting it and causing him to gasp in pleasure and pain. The blood dribbled down his chest, falling to the bed to mix with his own pre-ejaculate.

"Make me yours, master. Make me scream your name." All the time, his eyes remained on Raphael's, watching him, wishing it were him inside him, his little brat that never could.