#top mc

"Please, please, please, please_" Julian throws his hips back to meet every thrust, with little regard to how much it'll bruise by next morning. He's insatiable, his fingers gripping the sheets as he sweats. "I'm close, Боже мой, я близко!!” He whimpers, his hole tightening around you. Just a little more, just a little- "No- nnngh!!" He winces, pressing his thighs together. The cockring clenched around him flashes green, and suddenly he's reeling. He tries to keep thrusting. He grabs his cock and pumps desperately, but it only makes it hurt. He's just on the edge of orgasm, but the enchanted ring won't let him. You pull out and he wails in despair, flopping onto the bed like he's dying. Dying from no nut. His beautiful eyes are wet with tears. They cling to his eyelashes. He looks at you, the one who currently holds his pleasure in their hands. You could grant him sweet mercy, or torture him further. Who is he kidding? You both know what you'll do. You gently rub his back. "My poor, poor little pirate. Do you want to cum?" He nods feverishly, "yes, oh yes, my love I ache so terribly!" "But, Ilya do you deserve to cum?" He whimpers, his eyes casting back down. "No master…” "Have you earned it?" He shakes his head. "Not yet. Please- let me earn it? I can be good, so good! Give me a chance, master…” "Oh, you'll earn it soon enough. Roll over, let me see your dirty cock." "Yes master!" He immediately obeys. Such a good boy. "I'm going to bring you to the edge a few more times, ok? You have to suffer a bit before you get your reward." "Ah… I… I can't!!" "Oh, you can't?" You ask, voice heavy with disappointment. "I-I'll try master! I'll try! I'll do my best for you!!" "Oh, what a good boy. So good. You'll earn your cumming in no time!"

MC gets Lucifer to cockwarm them. He has to stay put and sit patiently in their lap while trying not to be too distracted by how good he feels having their cock inside him.

Whenever Lucifer gets an answer correct, MC rewards him with a nice little thrust or two, maybe a stroke of his cock as well.

And at first Lucifer gets everything correct, of course. One promptly given, confident, correct answer after another; almost entirely keeping his composure, other than when MC thrusts up into him and he quietly moans. But that composure can't last forever.

Eventually, Lucifer starts taking too long to answer, too distracted by thinking about how much he wishes MC would let him ride them properly, and oh dear, oh no, now MC has to punish him. >:3 A sharp spank will suffice, hard enough to make him jolt in their lap, to make him gasp, to distract him even more with pain layered over pleasure.

He'll try to focus again, but no matter how hard he tries, he'll start not only answering too slowly, but actually getting answers wrong. No, he can do better, he is better, he ---

Your world is dark and red and plague coats the streets as thickly as molasses. It seems the city has crumbled a little more with each person that falls. With a life so bitter, you clung to the ounce of hope you had and applied for apprenticeship under a doctor at the palace. Asra left, desperate for distance from the city but you couldn’t join him—you wouldn’t, this was your home and you’re determined to piece it back together no matter what it takes.

The pungent smell of rubbing alcohol and the distant tang of coppery blood assault your nose even through your mask. The skittering of beetles from the pit buzz in your ears like terrible white noise, fueling your unease—but you persist, this is your job now. You chose this.

“I trust you to go on your own this time. It’ll be no different, it’s just like we’ve done together.” Doctor Devorak speaks monotonously and his eyes are bruised with sleep deprivation. Constantly, he hunches over books and furiously scribbles notes in an attempt to find a cure. Would it be in vain? You’re unsure, but if this takes a little stress off his shoulders, you’ll do it. “Be careful.” He says after a moment's hesitation.

In your bag, you carry all the equipment you need for your patient. Count Lucio.

You’ve gotten as used to his cocky persona as much as one possibly could. Even riddled with the plague, he still acts as though he’s the same man as before. He knows he isn’t—though denial is the greatest placebo. You’ve gotten used to your mask by now and your lenses barely fog up anymore. It scares Lucio, though he doesn’t show it willingly. You rap three times on his chamber doors before entering.

His room smells of disinfectant and night air that seeps through his cracked window. “Good evening, Count.” You greet coolly, approaching his bedside and placing your bag on top of an oak wood dresser. Lucio scans his eyes over you, red and puffy. “Which one are you?” His voice is rough and scratchy, you assume he’s been having coughing fits. You answer him with your name and he seems to perk up. “Your voice is too muffled with that thing.” Lucio gestures vaguely at your beaked mask. “Where’s Doctor Jules?” He watches as you unpack your bag and pull out various tools. 

“Working.”

“He’s no fun. You know what they say, three's a party.” 

Lucio is a terrible flirt and he doesn’t notice or he doesn’t care about boundaries between doctor and patient. If it were up to him, he’d have both his favorite doctors in his room with him after hours. But that isn’t what this is, he’s reminded. He’s a dying man and it’s a procedural matter.

You don’t answer his cocky remark and gather your stethoscope. You plug it in your ears and press the metal disk to his chest. “Hey! A little warning might be nice!” Lucio groans, nearly jolting at the cold metal. “Quiet, I need to hear.”

Luckily, he shuts up and you listen to the rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat. You move it over his lungs and his breath rattles. “I need to put it under your shirt.” You lean back up and Lucio grins. “Oh? If you wanted me shirtless you just had to ask.” He grins and you roll your eyes. “You don’t need to take off your shirt, I’ll put it under.”

You lift the hem of his linen shirt and press the metal to his naked chest. It draws a gasp from him that you ignore. You move it across his chest where you need to listen and reach around to press it against his back. His lungs sound like a baby’s rattle, scratchy and clogged. His skin is warm to the touch though you can barely feel it through your thick gloves.

You move the metal disk higher and lower as you need it and Lucio’s heart rate accelerates as you move back to his chest. 

“Remember to stay calm, we needn’t any heart palpitations.” Your voice is smooth and methodical. Setting the stethoscope aside for a moment, you fetch a band from your bag. “Would it be wrong for me to say you make my heart skip a beat?” Lucio croaks, completely ignorant of your lingo.

“Yes, that’s what a heart palpitation is, milord.” 

“Right, I knew that.”

You grab Lucio’s right arm with gentle hands, turning it to expose the crook of the reddened flesh and tying the band tight around his bicep. He winces at the pinch of skin and watches you like a hawk as you place the stethoscope under the band and plug it back into your ears. You watch the clock across from his bed, counting each beat of his heart with practiced ease. Lucio barely holds in the painful cough once the full minute is over, turning his head and covering his mouth with the palm of his hand. 

You take a moment to write down his vitals and rub his back while he swallows thickly and clears his throat. “Why are you doing that.” Lucio’s voice comes off more nasally than usual, craning his neck to peer over his shoulder where your hand lays. “I’m offering you comfort. Do you want me to stop?” You feel you may have crossed a line despite the count's provocative nature. 

“No! No. By all means, keep touching me.” Lucio attempts to keep the familiar swagger in his tone yet you don’t miss how desperate he’d sounded for that split second. 

You don’t reply to him, just moving your gloved palm to his forehead and the heat seeps through the leather. You sigh softly. “Fever still high. May I try something, milord?” You question and Lucio scoffs—well, the best he can without sending himself into a hacking fit. You take that as a ‘whatever’ and loosen the fingers of your glove, pulling it off. Lucio watches with interest as you place your bare hand to his clammy forehead and summon a simple cooling spell. He groans softly and leans into your hand. 

“How’d you do that?” 

“I’m well acquainted with magic.”

“Magic, huh? Must’ve lucked out with you, eh?” 

Again, you pass over his comment and press your fingers over his temples and behind his ears, alleviating him of possible migraines. Your patient sighs a deep breath, the tension in his body slowly relaxing. “Keep that up and I’ll have to order you a raise.” Lucio hums and you remove your hand, slipping your glove back on. “I’m not getting paid, milord. I volunteered to help.” You clarify and the count gawks at you. 

“You willingly chose to do this? Man..” he clicks his tongue and makes a sound of disbelief. 

You continue the routine you’ve practiced with him before, taking notes on his behavior and advancements with his sickness.

“Have the assistants been helping you with your physical therapy?” You question, setting the quill down in its holder as you address Lucio. “Hmph, they haven’t even tried.” He huffs, staring ahead at the painting across from his bed—a commissioned portrait of a man defeating death, how ironic. 

“That’s no good..” you mumble. “I’m assuming no one has taken you walking?”

“No. None of them want to touch me—I mean, I’m the COUNT, who wouldn’t want to fawn over me??” 

You let him ramble as you take note of the lack of aid from his assistants. “I’ll help you with simple stretches today. I’ll give word about the slacking.” You announce, taking a moment to pop the joints in your arms and back. If you weren’t mistaken, the count would be like dead weight at this point, and stiff joints wouldn’t help you in this endeavor. “Are you ready, milord?” You prepare yourself to haul him upright at the edge of the bed, only waiting on his consent.

“If you hurt me, I’ll kill you.” 

“This won’t hurt, I’m only going to relieve your body aches.” 

Lucio gives you a skeptical look before nodding his head, pushing his arms out to allow you to grip under his arms, fingers pressing into his ribs as you help to position him. “First we’ll start with your arm; we can tackle your prosthetic later, though I’m sure you might need to take a break from wearing it to keep your skin from chafing…” you ramble on, more so to yourself than Lucio. He winces at the notion of removing his prosthetic, lips curling into a snarl. “No, the arm stays on.” 

You only nod. “Yes, milord, I’ll make sure to inform the others of your decision.” 

Lucio sits as straight as he can, back still aching as you take his right arm and start with overhead stretches. Sweat stains litter his shirt, and you make a mental note to have someone help him change after your checkup. Your thumbs glide down the inside of his arm, down over the red veins and to his wrist, pushing his hand down, holding, up, holding. Lucio watches like a predator watches its prey, yet sitting there with his hand in yours, back hunched, he seems more of a sad child; one who wears a pout on his face and kicks his feet where they dangle from his chair. 

A strand of dull blonde hair falls into his face, and you push it back without really thinking about it, briefly raking your fingers through in a swift moment to instill its place among his hairline. Lucio closes his eyes, a rattling sigh and a sniffle of his nose. Something tells you to stay just a moment longer, and so you do, only under the guise of massaging his temples to relieve his headaches. 

“We’ll do bed stretches for your legs, we needn’t overdo it.” Your voice, muffled by the leather beak of your mask, breaks him from his stupor. Lucio nods and clears his throat, which only leads to another coughing fit that you rub his back through. “Lay back when you’re ready.”

He raises his brow, then chuckles raggedly. “I knew you’d come around,” Lucio heckles, half falling back onto his elbows. You tut and guide him back yourself. “You have to lay back so I can stretch your legs.” 

He rolls his eyes, rubbing the cool metal of his hand over his forehead. “Let me have a little fun, won’t you?”

You don’t answer, unwilling to fuel his fantasies. Your gloved fingers wrap around his ankle, one hand holding by the heel of his foot and the other in the crook under his knee. Slow and steady, you push his leg forward, knee bending near his chest. You don’t push it, just holding for a few seconds before pulling back and repeating. 

Lucio doesn’t know if it’s just the fever talking, or the warm solid body maneuvering his, but he can feel the already present flush on his face getting hotter, his heart beating faster within his rib cage. He takes a deep breath, then out. This isn’t too bad, just stretching. Just his doctor's apprentice stretching his legs for him, with that hideous mask that for some reason has butterflies fluttering in his stomach. 

“Good job, keep breathing just like that.”

Shit. He really wishes you wouldn’t talk like that right now. 

Now you’ve set his foot on your shoulder, using it as leverage to push it back, focusing on the hinge of his hips, and by god does that send his blood right between his legs. You don’t notice the stirring in his trousers, nor do you stop and look—then again why would you look. 

You release his leg and move to the other, repeating the same cycle from before with intense concentration in those hollow eyes of your mask. 

Lucio’s breathing is getting heavier, you notice, so you stop. “Milord, are you o… oh.” The air in the room freezes, everything still and your heartbeat rises in your ears. “I apologize, I’ll leave you to tend to yourself,” you flounder, immediately turning to pack up your bag. Nothing prepared you for this, none of your training ever taught you how to approach this kind of situation. 

“Wait!” Lucio struggles to push himself up, but he gets there, braving his arms behind him. “You’re not just gonna leave are you?” 

That scene is still replaying in your head, the Count flat on his back with his legs fallen spread on the bed, eyes trailing down in between his legs—somewhere you never should have looked. “I, I mean, this is unprofessional,” your hands clenched at your chest, soft leather creaking at your joints. “That would be taking advantage of you.” 

Lucio scoffs. “Taking advantage of me? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten my role, I could have you executed if you so much as pissed me off.” He swallows, pressing his hand down on the bed in between his legs, his wrist and forearm blocking the soft tenting in his pants. “So believe me when I’m asking you to do this,” there’s a new softness on his face, like he was just moments away from getting onto his knees—well if he could get on his knees. 

You straighten your back, hands falling to your sides. “Ok, then. Ask me properly.” You demand, heart beating wildly in your chest nonetheless. For a moment Lucio looks almost surprised. Then, a catlike grin spreads across his pale face. 

“Please Doctor, would you touch me?” He damn near purrs the word, the persistent flush on his face darkening for other reasons. “You wouldn’t leave your patient crying, now would you?”

You gather your bearings, heart hammering in your chest. A tad too stiffly, you begin searching through your bag. “Hey, I did what you wanted. What’re you doing now?” Lucio bobs his head around in an attempt to peer into your bag. You snap it shut after finding what you needed. “I won’t do it dry. Lay back, this won’t hurt a bit.” You unscrew the jar of vaseline, setting it down with a little clack onto his nightstand. Lucio’s already laid flat on his back by the time you turn around, struggling to shimmy out of his pants. 

You grant him some reprieve, replacing his hands with yours and tugging down the waistband. “Finally,” he groans, cool air wafting over his hot skin. His half-hard dick lays on his belly.

“Now, stay still.” 

With a gloved hand coated in lubricant, you grab his cock, slowly pumping him into full hardness. Lucio grips at the bedsheets, expensive linens wrinkling under his hands. The leather of your gloves glides across his heated flesh softer than he imagined it’d feel- the worn-in material like pure heaven. 

“Doctor,” he gasps again, pants still snug around his thighs while he gives a pathetic buck of his hips. You press your free hand against his lower stomach, thumb rubbing right under the head of his cock. “Stay still, we needn’t cause any distress. Your palm acts as a stabilizer against his stomach, keeping him from the rowdy attempts at what his previous, healthy, body would have reacted with. 

“I hope this relieves some stress, milord,” you twist your wrist and Lucio shudders. “Your health and well-being are my greatest priority.” Your thumb strokes along his jutted hipbone, mask-clad head tilting the tiniest bit to the side as you watch him writhe and pant. 

“That’s-“ a heaving cough wracks through his body, making his stomach clench and cock twitch in your hand. “Th-that’s not sexy talk at all.” He groans, eyebrows furrowing and sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh?” You rub your thumb over his slit and a shuddering moan falls from his lips. “You seem to be gaining gratification right now, is this not sufficient? Would you like me to be a little more…intimate?” You press down lightly on his lower stomach, feeling his dick jump again in your hand as you start pumping faster.

“I-it would be, hg- fuck, helpful,” Lucio chokes, hastily trying to kick his pants off his thighs, the need for more mobility clawing up his spine until he's wiggling like a worm trying to get free. 

You sigh, letting go of his dick and letting it fall against his stomach in favor of grabbing the hem of his waistband and sliding them down his legs. They fall to the floor with a soft thump. Lucio lifts his legs up to his chest, trying to make purchase on the edge of the bed rather than dangle off. “Don’t squirm, you’ll only hurt yourself.” You take his dick in your hand again and give another pump, something that makes his legs tremble. “Don’t tell me what to- ohhh,” his eyes roll back, lashes fluttering when you start stroking again, fast and methodical. He shouldn’t be much longer now, not with how he's starting to leak on your gloves. 

His toes curl in his socks, his cool metal hand fumbling to brush up his shirt and thumb over a peachy nipple. You roll your eyes under your mask. You might as well.

You reach up and let your fingers rub over his second nipple, and the rumbly groan of delight that leaves his ragged throat is clue enough that you’ve made the right move. “You’re- you’re fucking creepy-” Lucio keens, weakly rutting his hips up. 

“This mask is for my protec-”

“I know,” he heaves a great big breath with you carefully stroke his dripping slit. “The mask- it-it’s creepy but it's hot and, and-fuck!” 

One well-timed grind of your finger under the head and tug on his nipples has him cumming abruptly, his thin hips giving aborted thrusts as weak loads of cum splatter against his stomach and taper off to drip down your gloved knuckles. Slowly, you taper off your stroking until he's gone soft in your hand. “I hope you feel satisfied. Now,” you give a disguised grimace under your mask at your gloved hand. “I should be taking my leave-!”

Lucio locks his legs around your hips, nudging you up against his as your knees knock against the edge of the bed. He leans upon his golden arm. “S’ not enough,” his heels dig into your tailbone. “Fuck me, fuck me like you mean it.” Your shock limits you enough for him to grab your soiled hand and bring it to his face. “You love your Count, don’t you?” He holds your wrist as he drags his tongue over your palm, licking up his own mess. “I’ll reward you, you can use me like a toy-”

The moment he tries to kiss your palm you yank your hand away with a sucked in breath, your heart hammering in your ears. You should leave, you should put a stop to this and forget that this ever happened.

…But you don’t. You don’t step away. You harden your gaze behind your mask and brace your hands on either side of his ribcage, looming over him. 

“You really think you’re still in charge, don’t you?” Your voice comes steady, and you can almost see the shiver that runs through Lucio’s body. “Do you think this would be a reward for me? As if I didn’t do this because I pitied you?”

“Pity-!“ he guffaws, though quickly shut up the lower you lean into his space. You’re like a predator above him, the soulless beaked mask covering any sense of humanity. And honestly, wasn’t this what he wanted? 

“Hold your tongue, milord, unless you’re using it to confess the truth.” The beak of your mask pokes against his blushed nose, and he scrunches up in reflex. His lips press into a thin line, barely hiding the tremble. “You begged me to touch you like a common whore- you will respect me. And if you truly want me to fuck you, you will beg again.” 

There’s silence for a moment throughout the room. It’s still aside from the labored breaths, the baby rattle of his chest. Then, slowly, you can see his tongue poke into his cheek and confusion gathers in your mind until-

Lucio snorts and spits onto the beak of your mask. “Fuck you.” 

Slowly, his viscous saliva slides down the bridge of your mask's nose, tinted with red specks and blood. You lean up, lips tugging into a scowl. With a quick movement, you swipe the spit off your mask and grab the Count by the face. Lucio winces, red eyes narrowing on you. “You insufferable little brat. You should be lucky I even touched you, not with your wife ignoring you up in this wing. Does she know you flirt with me? Does she know that you’re begging for scraps of attention like a dog? Does she care?” 

Meeting your steely gaze, tinted by the red lenses of your mask, something in Lucio changes. You’re his only hope in any affection, you’re his only chance to be loved again–no matter how cruel it starts. Something in Lucio breaks. 

“Give it to me.” He croaks, his nose hot and eyes wet. “I-I’ll take whatever- just love me, please.” …is what he doesn’t say. Instead, he swallows that pride of his and mutters a bitter ‘please’.

“Louder. I can’t hear you.” You demand, fingers pressing into his cheeks and squishing his face. His lips pucker embarrassingly. “Please.” Lucio repeats, louder and rough. Seemingly satisfied, you let go of his face and pat his cheek like rewarding a dog. “Now was that so hard? Someone should have taught you manners.” You knock his legs off your hips and return to your bag, rummaging for the vaseline you put back too soon. “I ought to put that mouth of yours to work, keep you quiet, but I don’t trust you not to bite.”

Lucio scowls, yet his heart quickens again as you unscrew the jar and scoop out a glob of viscous goop. “Wanna try your luck?” He slurs instead, tapping his teeth together as punctuation.

With your cleaner hand, you knock his legs back together and grab under the knees, pushing them up to his chest. He makes a gurgled sound of surprise, semi hard dick still hanging between the gap of his thighs. “I’d rather pull the stick out of your ass.” You grin a sarcastic grin, not that he can see it anyway. Lucio rolls his eyes, although short lived as they shoot open with the first prod of your fingers. 

“Shit!” He yelps. “Couldn’t have made it warmer?” His toes curl in his socks, clenching up at the feeling of cold lubricant against his skin.

“You’re awfully spoiled, do you know that?” You rub circles over his rim, slowly warming up until he’s stopped clenching up so tightly. He grumbles, though goes quiet when you push the first finger in. You look up quizzically and find his eyes have clenched tightly shut. 

“What is it now?” You ponder, finger sliding in and out, in and out, repetitively until he’s relaxed more and more. “Milord.” You call, crooking your finger up and-

“FUCK!”

The shout takes you off guard, and you almost pull your finger out until you see the tip of his dick wet and sticky with pre. “Oh?” You hum, bringing your finger in position again to rub at the gland inside. Lucio nearly chokes, dick twitching again in front of you. “Oh what a shame, it must have been so long since someone has touched you here, hasn’t it? If you’re giving me a reaction like that.”

“Shu-uuuoh-“ pre is steadily dripping from his slit, much more liquid than before as it pools on his balls and taint. “Ughn- j-just fu-huuuh-“ his eyes roll, heat pooling in every part of his body with each forceful press against his prostate, milking yet another glob of pre from his cock. “Fuck me alreadyyy,” 

You tut, pulling your finger out and slathering more vaseline on. “Just a finger in and you’re already whoring yourself out- oh, my mistake, you already did that already.” You slide two fingers in, watching as Lucio’s rim widens and sucks in your digits. He can’t find himself to come up with a witty reply, too caught up in his own pleasure to comprehend half of what you’re saying.

More and more he loosens, weakly fluttering around your fingers with each pump. Three fingers in, and his pre- or at this point just cum- has dripped down onto your knuckles and coated his back end. “Filthy old man, you’re leaking all over my hand.” 

Lucio guffaws. “Old?!” He babbles out his disdain for the adjective quite nasally.

You push three fingers up firmly against his abused prostate, grab his balls in your other fist, and squeeze.

“FU-HUUH-“ 

It’s almost as if the cum has been squeezed out of him, forceful sprays of the liquid splattering across your beaked mask. You flinch at the splatter, yet give his balls one more firm squish and twist before letting the flesh go, watching his dick fall limp between his thighs. 

“Do you still want me to fuck you, Milord? Are you still craving my touch?” You slide your fingers out of his ass with a wet squelch, wiping your gloved hand in his thigh. 

Lucio stares at the ceiling for a moment, vision spinning and chest heaving. He’s sore already in the groin, yet he wants more. You’ve given him a taste and now he’s starving; you’ve shown him your cruelty tonight, and he can only imagine how else you’ll beat him down. “Yes-“ he swallows, leaning up on his elbows to get a good look at you. 

He nearly falls back again at the sight. That horrific mask that he hates so much, splattered with his own semen. It fills him with an odd feeling, one of both arousal and discomfort. That mask plagued him- literally, and now seeing it tainted, seeing it in a new light, it makes his chest tighten and privates throb. He…likes this mask, when it’s on you. And that thought both scares and excites him at the same time. 

“You’ve gotten me messy,” you rise, meeting him face to mask and caging him in. “And you’re going to clean it. Go on, lick it clean like the mutt you are.” 

Lucio grimaces, staring at his own reflection in the big red glass eyes of your mask. And then, somewhat to your own surprise, he sticks his tongue out and timidly laps at the end of your beak. You lean down a little further, the tip of the leather beak pressing against his lips. 

The sickly blonde turns his head to the side of your mask, licking a stripe against the cool leather, cleaning his own semen from the material. He groans, sloppily licking the rest of the sticky mess off your mask with enthusiasm unfit for his previous behavior. You can only suppose it’s his not so secret desire to be humiliated.

His eyes have glazed over a bit, his licking leading back to the beak of your mask, his lips parting further like he wants to try and take it in his mouth. You chuckle and give his cheek a rough pat. “You’re that eager to have your mouth filled, huh?” 

Lucio straightens up in a sense, embarrassment crossing his face. “I- Shut up!” 

A type of wolfish grin stretches your lips and you stand straight, re-spreading his legs and unbuckling your belt. The count licks his lips. “Fucking finally,” 

“Don’t get so cocky, milord, with how desperate you’re acting it might be too much.” You unbutton the front of your trousers and pull your cock through the hole, heavy and aching in your gloved hand. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t handle.” He seethes, yet angels his hips for you as you press the head of your cock against his stretched rim. You push into him without any further warning, easing into his lube-soaked hole with a low groan. 

Lucio’s jaw falls slack, a strangled and aborted sound coming from the back of his throat. 

“Is this what you wanted? Is this what you needed, milord?” You punctuate with a quick snap of your hips, forcing the rest of your dick into him. He gurgles, hands coming up to his mouth as a heavy coughing fit tears through his chest.

“Yes,” he croaks when the coughing subsides, the convulsion making him clench tightly around you. “Fuck, I needed it, so bad,” 

You brace your hand against his skinny stomach, slowly pulling out and pushing back in at your own pace. Lucio groans in protest, complaining about the speed and making half-thought jabs. “All, all that talk,” he laughs breathlessly, though his eyelids flutter and he chokes on a whine when you bottom back out. “Can’t e-even fu-“

You roll your eyes, pull out, and snap your hips back in.

“Fuck!” His own cry punctuates your thrust, his head knocking back against the bed. 

You build a quicker pace, fucking into him roughly and without care. Right now, he’s your plaything. 

The rhythmic slapping grows louder and louder, blended with pitiful moans and cries, vulgar and desperate. Lucio’s face screws into one of brutal pleasure, his teeth grit and eyes screwed shut; all framed with the brightest cherry blush, only partly from his sickly hue. 

You tear your gaze from his face, trailing down his frail chest and stomach and-

“…you’re not hard.” 

You slow and grab his limp cock in your hand, roughly pumping it. “You’re all limp, Milord.” 

His eyes shoot open, something like fear and humiliation flashing in his red eyes. “D-don’t,”

“Don’t what?” You dig your thumb into his slit. His dick gives a twitch but ultimately remains soft and useless. “It’s not my fault your dick is broken.” 

Lucio snarls, though it holds no true malice. You slide your hands under his knees and push them up by his chest, picking up the pace again. His head rolls, hand reaching out to paw at your chest, fingers hooking on your light colored uniform. His flaccid dick slaps against his belly with each push of your hips, and the forceful press jolts him up against the bed almost violently.

“You truly are useless,” you spit, hips slapping against his, heart hammering in your chest. Lucio gasps and heaves, his sickly pale skin flushed red and sweaty. His sunken eyes are tear-filled, dampening his lashes and sliding over his cheekbones. “All you’re good for is warming my cock.” 

To your surprise, Lucio hiccups and nods, weakly holding onto the bunched fabric of your shirt. In that moment, you realize just how weak Lucio is; how frail his body is, and how easy it would be to break him. 

“You stopped,” he croaks, weakly punching your chest. “Duh-don’t be such a pussy,”

Ah. Maybe he doesn’t need too much tenderness after all. 

You forgo your hold under his knees to grab his thin hips instead, squeezing tight enough to leave a violet bruise in your wake. “I thought maybe I should have granted you a little softness—but it seems that was wrong of me.” Your hips snap forward almost brutally, and the leverage that your grip on his hips gives you is similar to fucking him as if he was but a toy. You watch his eyes roll, jaw falling slack as a moan not unlike a strangled bird tears from his raw throat. “What, hah, would everyone think,” you begin, curling your fingers into the skin of his hips and belly, thumbs hooking into his hip bones. Lucio hisses at the ache. 

“Knowing if you were fucked by a common person, a nobody, according to you.” He clenches at the thought, forming a vice around your throbbing cock. Hot pleasure seethes through your veins, and it seems if anything, The Count truly is just good for a fuck. 

With each taunt, each rough thrust, your fingers press deeper into his skin, until you can feel a faint and lingering heartbeat under your fingertips. Your hands slide over his stomach, and a high-pitched cry tears from his throat, the look of pure shock laid across his face. Confusion gathers in you until you look down and see that limp, useless cock of his leaking hot piss over his taut stomach. It only hits you then that you had dug your fingers right into his bladder, practically squeezing it out of him–but he doesn't need to know that. 

You guffaw instead, watching the last spurts of his yellow steam taper off and drip down the side of his stomach, pooling under him. 

“Oh my gods- I had never taken you for a bedwetter, milord.” Lucio flinches at the humiliation…and yet his legs curl around your hips, limp dick still slapping against his now wet belly. 

“Should I inform the other doctors and tell them that their count is incontinent? That their count is no better than a bedwetting child?” 

“M’not a- uhng, hn!”

You strike his prostate and a small glob of fluid leaks from his piss wet dick. “Oh?” You cock your head to the side in thought. “Was that supposed to be you trying to cum?” Lucio’s face is a steady red, his teeth grit and brows furrowed. Your balls slap against his ass, the coiling knot in your stomach gathering tighter. Lucio babbles something about how you shouldn't talk about him like that, that he could make you pay–all the while moaning like a cheap whore. 

And at some point, the tightness in your gut grows too tight, too intense. You knock his legs off your hips, pulling out to Lucio’s disgruntlement–and finishing on his stomach. Your cum splatters against the sticky urine already coating his stomach, almost mixing together in a disgusting concoction of a night of bad decisions. 

“Asshole,” Lucio gasps, head falling back against the bed. “Shoulda’ came inside,” he bemoans. You roll your eyes, dragging your gloved fingers through the puddle of cum and piss on his stomach. “Oh, shut up.” You shove your messy fingers in his mouth unceremoniously. Lucio looks at you almost pitifully, but slurps up the fluids off your fingers almost too eagerly. You pull your fingers out of his mouth, and to your surprise, he keeps his mouth open in wait. With a shrug of your shoulders, you keep feeding him until the mess on his stomach is almost completely gone and his eyes are starting to droop with exhaustion. 

You pull away, stepping into your own space to tuck yourself back in your pants before grabbing a spare cloth from your bag and wiping the rest of the sticky mess from his stomach. Lucio leans up on his elbows, watching you almost cautiously, like he hadn't expected this. “I…I hope this satisfied you like you had wanted.” You find yourself murmuring, wiping the lube and sweat from his thighs and ass before putting his underwear and pants back on him. “It did.” He grins lopsidedly, breathing out a comforting sigh as you help him sit up.

“We should do it again next time, how bout’ that?”

You pull the damp sheets off his bed, taking care to slide them out easily from under him. “I don’t quite know about that.”

Lucio pouts, crossing his arms. “I’ll see you again at least, right?” He grumpily lifts his arms as you pull his shirt back over his head. 

“Of course, this is my job.” You pack your bag again and pause, reaching out to push Lucio’s hair back. He leans into it near desperately, choking down a whimper when you pull your hand away. “I’ll send someone to get you fresh linens and garments.” 

“Do you…” he trails off as you approach the large door. “Do you like me?”

The question takes you off guard, and the look on his face is heartwrenching. You open your mouth and then stop. This is the man who sentenced those down on their luck to the bloody arena. This is the man who partied while his people died of the plague. Do you like him?

“...Goodnight, milord.”

Beel♡

You and Beel have a wonderful relationship.

While Beel may seem stoic and uncaring, he isn't like that in reality.

Truly, he was one of the sweetest people, or demons, that you had ever met. That's what made you fall in love with him.

Now here you are. You're married to Beel and in a very happy relationship. Sure, you have your differences, but that's what helps you two get along and learn about each other.

One of his favorite parts about your relationship, is how much you take care of him as your sweet house wife<3

As your cute wife, Beel stays home, cleaning and cooking, making sure that the house will be to your liking

Though when Beel cooks, he'll have to order food for himself multiple times so that he doesn't eat the food that he's making for you

Beel would definitely be an obedient wife that would always listen to what you say but he gets too excited once in a while and starts to disobey you

Especially when you lock his clit in a cage

He can't stand it! He'll try to be a good girl and not touch himself, but it gets so hard that he almost always caves in

And when you two fuck while he's in his cage, he gets much more needier, leading to him disobeying you without even realizing it

Luckily though, you'll always be a good spouse and punish Beel properly like your he deserves!!!

"Bye Beel," you call out from the doorway, making sure your shoes were completely on before leaving. Right when you were about to make your exit, you could feel Beel's arms wrap around you in a tight hug. "Sorry Beel, how could I forget?" you turn around and give him a kiss. It seemed like a little thing, but Beel could never enjoy his day without you when you didn't give him a goodbye kiss. Breaking away from the kiss, you leaned into his ear. "And make sure to keep your hands away from your clit. I know it's caged, but we don't want you getting distracted during your work now, do we?" Beel nodded his head quickly, trying to kiss you again. "Ah ah," you gently pushed him away. "I need to go to work. Now be a good girl and wait for me, okay?"

Beel whined, but understood, watching you leave the house. He locked the door and turned away to do his chores. Usually, he would go about doing his chores, first fixing your beds and washing the sheets, cleaning and sweeping the floors, etc. This time though, it was harder for him to stay focused. Beel could feel his dick, his clit throbbing in its cage. I need to stay focused, Beel thought. If I touch myself now, Y/n would punish me...

Taking a deep breath, Beel continued with his chores, but with some difficulty. He was able to finish fixing your rooms and sweeping the floors, but the feeling of his poor clit locked up in his cage was causing him trouble. Sometimes, Beel would have to slow down his movements or stop completely because of how sensitive his clit was

Despite his problems, he finally finished cleaning and started cooking. He had sent a text earlier, asking you what you wanted him to make for dinner. You said that some steak would be good. Now of course Beel wasn't going to just make you steak! What kind of wife would he be if he didn't add in a dessert? He put on his apron, grabbed his ingredients, and got to work.

While he started making the sauce for the steak, Beel ordered some food to make sure that he wouldn't eat any of your dinner too early. While he waited for the food to arrive, he continued making the sauce and moved on to preparing the sauce. You would be so proud of him! Beel felt especially happy, thinking about how you would praise him for making such a great dinner for you.

Beel moved around the kitchen with a little smile on his face while thinking about you. He was so deep in his thoughts that he accidentally ran into the counter corner...crotch first. Usually, he would yelp in pain because that would hurt like a bitch, and try to numb the pain. Not this time though. This time, he let out a long, suppressed moan. His clit throbbed intensely in its cage, begging for its release. Beel shivered, trying to gain his composure, but it was too hard. All he could think of was feeling that pleasure that went through his clit. Slowly but surely, he started humping the corner, wanting to pleasure himself.

Completely lost in the feeling, Beel humps the kitchen counter, despite the fact that he wouldn't be able to get any release from it. He let out choked out whimpers, his tongue starting to loll out of his mouth. He kept thinking of you, letting him hump you with his useless clit like he was humping the counter. All Beel could think of was how you'd give him so much pleasure, degrading and praising him to the point his mind breaks.

Right when Beel was about to completely forget what he was doing, his phone went off. A bit dazed, Beel stopped humping the table and slowly turned to his phone to see who was calling him. It was Y/n! Beel hurried over to his phone, trying to recompose himself to be able to talk to you. Despite trying to calm himself down, he couldn't help feeling excited to hear your voice.

"Y/n..."

"Hey Beel," you greeted him cheerily. "What are you doing right now? Are you making dinner?"

"Yeah...I'm making steak, like you wanted me to."

You let out a giggle. "Really? All I said was that I was craving some steak. I didn't expect you to take it so seriously!

"Anyway, keep up the good work. And," you continued with a mischievous tone. "Be a good girl and don't touch yourself. You haven't, right?"

Beel's eyes widened. "Uh...n-no, I didn't touch myself...Like a good girl." He ended the sentence with his voice trembling. Beel already felt like a mess just from you calling him "good girl", and affirming that he was a good girl- your good girl- made him absolutely weak in the knees.

"Good job Beel. Bye~"

After you hung up the phone, Beel immediately got back to work. During the whole time he was in the kitchen, he couldn't stop thinking about your phone call. How you called him a "good girl", and told him "good job"; it was just replaying in his head. Still though, the fact that he lied to you about not touching himself was gnawing at the back of his mind. He could just not tell you that he was trying to get himself off. You would punish him for sure. Instead, he just let those thoughts sit in the back of his mind, trying not to let them bother him.

***

Beel had finished with everything, the steak and the strawberry cake he baked. It took time and a lot of ordered food to keep him away from the dinner he was making, but it was finally finished. He set the table very nicely, arranging all the food, plates, and silverware to look appetizing. Beel looked at the clock and realized that it was much later than he expected. Thankfully, you would be back soon.

As Beel waited for you, he started feeling really needy again. He could feel his sensitive clit twitch in his cage, begging to be let out. Not yet, he thought to himself. I have to wait for Y/n to come back.

Despite waiting a while longer, Beel couldn't help it anymore. HE was getting too horny. Luckily, you were merciful in these situations. You knew that Beel could get very needy when home alone, so you gave him a toy to play with. Beel got up and made his way to your shared room. He got out some keys from the closet and opened a drawer at the very bottom.

When Beel opened up the drawer, his mouth watered a bit at the sight. Multiple dildos, all of long lengths and different textures and colors came into his view. Vibrators of different shapes, a few cock cages---Beel had to stop himself from grabbing anything in sight right then and there. Instead, he took a deep breath, and chose one specific dildo.

It was an average looking dildo, if you ignored how big it was. The dildo was smooth and purple. Despite it looking pretty average, it was one of the dildos Beel was attached to because it somehow reminded him of you.

Beel removed the dildo from the drawer, closing and locking it up again. He moved toward the bed, holding the dildo close to his chest. Sitting on the bed, he began to insert the toy into his mouth, taking it in nearly to the hilt. Beel closed his eyes, drooling over the toy a little. You would always let Beel deepthroat one of your collection of dildos when he was feeling too needy, considering how much of an oral fixation you knew he had. He was grateful that you'd pity him enough to let him at least pleasure himself this way.

Beel kept taking the large toy all the way to the back of his throat, small moans causing the dildo to vibrate a bit. When the dildo hit the back of his throat, Beel let out a long groan, his eyes closing.

…Y/n...please come home soon...

Beel kept on thinking about you, how your cock would fill him up nicely. He would just love for you to shove your dick in his mouth, no hesitation. He loves it when you treat him like an object. Besides, shouldn't a good housewife serve their husband?

"M-mhhnn~" Beel kept shoving the toy down his throat, basically thrusting it in like an actual dick would. He could feel his poor clit aching in his cage, wanting some sort of pleasuring feeling. Beel squeezed his thighs together, attempting to create some friction on his clit. Beads of sweat started forming on his face, and tears started pricking at his eyes. It wasn't because of the dildo that was hitting the back of his throat constantly. It was because he missed you!

Every time you would leave and Beel became too horny, he would always think of you, just you. He thought of how you would fuck his throat, maybe praise him for taking it so well, or degrading him for being so eager to suck cock. Either way, he would love what you'd tell him no matter what. If Beel could, he would probably just suck your dick for hours on end just---

*Click click*

Beel immediately stopped what he was doing, directing his attention towards the door. There it was.

"Hey, Beel? I'm home! What did you cook for me?"

Beel hurriedly put the dildo back in the drawer and quickly left the room. Your eyes scanned the house a bit for your wife when all of a sudden you found him barreling towards you. Beel's strong arms wrapped you up in a tight hold, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

"Woah! Be careful Beel, you could have knocked me over," you said with a smile. "How have you been?" Beel just nuzzled his head further into your shoulder. "Y/n, I missed you...It feels like you've been gone for so long."

"I've missed you too, Beel," You said, wrapping your arms around him. "But first, let's go sit down and eat. I've been waiting to taste your food." You let go of Beel and head over to the dining room, Beel following right behind you.

You took a seat at the dinner table, Beel squirming a bit in the seat aside from you. "Damn, Beel, you really outdid yourself today," you said, approval filling your eyes as you scanned the food on the dinner table. "And a cake too! I'm grateful to have you in my life."

Despite Beel nodding his head along with what you were saying, his mind was elsewhere. He still couldn't stop thinking about how horny he was. Beel wanted something to fill him up completely, make him feel full, all giddy on the feeling.

As you were eating your food, you could see out of the corner of your eyes how Beel was looking at you with a lustful look in his eyes. "Um, Y/n..." Beel's sudden words cut through the short silence. "I have something to tell you."

"Go ahead," you said with your mouth still a bit full. Beel squeezed his thighs together, looking down at his lap. "While you were gone...I ended up pleasuring myself." You continued to focus on your food. "Go on," you said without looking up.

Beel shifted even more as his face began to redden. "While I was cooking, right before you called me. I bumped into the counter and it really stimulated me...I ended up rubbing myself on the counter."

"But," Beel said suddenly. "It really wasn't on purpose! I just ran into it and it felt really good...please don't punish me," Beel finished with a whine. You continued to act unbothered as Beel begged for your forgiveness.

"So," you started, taking a sip of your drink. "You were touching yourself without my permission. No wonder your voice sounded so breathy on the phone." Suddenly, you looked up at Beel straight in the eyes. "What you mean to say is, that you were pleasuring yourself without my permission. Just rubbing your dirty clit wherever you please? Isn't this exactly why I put that cage on you?"

Beel squirmed even more in his seat, starting to pant as he felt his body start to heat up. "And to think I even praised you for not touching yourself. I think that you deserve a punishment...don't you agree?" you said, swirling your drink around in its cup.

"I'm sorr---"

"I asked you something, Beel."

"I...I deserve my punishment. I haven't been a good wife today," Beel muttered with a shaky voice. "Good job," you cooed with a smile. "Also, you've been staring at me with an awful hungry look on your face," you said to Beel. "Do you have something you want to tell me?"

Beel froze. There were so many things he wanted to tell you! Like how he missed you, how you thought of his cooking, how you were going to treat him in bed...but he knew what answer you were looking for.

"I-I want you to..." Beel started off with a shaky voice, his panting becoming more obvious. "I want you to touch me! Please, I want to cum so badly," he begged, reaching down to his groin. "Now why should I let you cum," you inquired. "You already attempted to pleasure yourself without my permission, and now you're still trying to get release from your pathetic clit?" Beel nodded quickly, his body becoming hotter, the cage on his clit feeling smaller than ever.

"Okay then. I'll fuck you." Beel's face lit up. "But," you continued with one finger up. "I'll only let you out of your cage if you can satisfy me well enough. Now be a good wife and get the lube in our room, 'kay? I'll be in the living room. And make sure all of your clothes are off when you come back" Beel quickly got up from the table and headed for your room, tripping a bit on the way there.

Finally! You were finally going to fuck him! Beel found the lube and quickly undressed himself before going back to the living room. "There you are Beel," you called out enthusiastically. You were now lounged on the couch. "And here I was thinking you were never going to come. Are you just going to stand there?"

Beel made his way over to you, his movements stiff. You eyed him up and down. You absolutely loved Beel's body. His tanned skin, muscular thighs and biceps, his huge tits, grabbable waist, you can go on forever. You loved admiring Beel's body and Beel loved it when you did that too. He adored the attention you gave him. It made him feel like he had all your attention.

"Beel," you said in a relaxed tone. "Kneel down in front of me real quick." Beel complied, shifting himself into a more comfortable position. "Oh Beel," you whispered, holding Beel by the face. "Why did you have to go and disobey me? I really wanted to reward you today."

Beel nuzzled into your hand, holding it with his own. "I'm sorry," he said, giving you a pitiful look. "Well what's done is done. Now Beel, I want you to watch me very closely." Beel nodded and pulled himself away from you, looking up at you with an expectant look in his eyes.

You took off your clothing, revealing your hard dick, the one that Beel was so head over heels for. You grabbed the lube that Beel had given you and squirted it all over your cock. Beel watched as you spread the lube all over your length, his mouth watering. As you continued jerking yourself off, Beel kept leaning in closer, his mouth opening as if he were waiting for you to fill it up with your cum.

As you felt yourself nearing your climax, Beel opened his mouth wider, as if he knew already. Suddenly, you stopped right before you came. "Haa...just so you know Beel, you won't be able to swallow my cum. This is just one part of your punishment~" Beel whined, grabbing onto your leg. "W-wait, please! Please...I want your cum inside me!" You pushed Beel off gently. "We already went over this, Beel. This is a part of your punishment."

Instead of giving up, Beel grabbed your hand and started sucking your fingers. Beel made quite the display, swirling his tongue around your digits, taking them deep into his throat, making all those erotic sounds that were so mesmerizing. Beel looked up at you with watery, half-lidded eyes. Eyes that were just begging you to wreck him right then and there.

It took you all of your self control to not flip him over right there. Before you knew it, you cock was semi-hard just from Beel's lewd act. "Beel," you said with a cold voice, removing your fingers from his mouth, a small popping sound being heard when Beel's lips left your hand. Beel had a foggy look on his face, as if he didn't completely comprehend what you were telling him.

"Beel," you repeated, pulling him into your lap, having him face you. "I thought you would have at least some control. What are you doing, acting like some eager whore? I thought I trained you better than that." Beel pressed his body against you as he let out such pathetic noises from his mouth. "I'm sorry Y/n...I just can't take this cage anymore," Beel whined. "I wanna cum, please," he pleaded. grinding himself onto you.

"No." Your voice was firm as you grabbed Beel by the hair. "I don't know what's gotten into you today Beel. You've always been such a good girl, a good wife for me." He avoided your gaze. Honestly, even Beel didn't understand himself. Usually, he would rarely get punished. Even when he did get that once in a while punishment, he never acted out during it up until now.

"But if you want to be treated like some kind of common whore, so be it," you said, pulling Beel by his hair and pressing your lips against his. Beel happily moaned into the kiss, opening his mouth as your tongue slipped in. As your tongue explored Beel's mouth, you grabbed the lube and spread it all over your fingers. You held Beel by the chin and gently pushed him away, breaking the kiss. He whined when he felt you pull away but was cut short when you harshly bit his nipple, causing him to squeal.

As you sucked on Beel's nipples, your fingers worked their way to his twitching rim. Beel let out a small gasp at the feeling, then began to grind down on you, holding your head closer to his chest. Your fingers began to enter Beel's hole, spreading him open for you.

"Hahh, ahh! Mhnn, Y/n! More...ngh!" You knew what Beel meant when he asked for more. He wanted you to press on that sensitive spot inside of him, abuse it to the point where he cums so hard he needs a few moments to get himself together. But that wasn't the plan today.

Instead of pushing on Beel's prostate, you continued to finger him, only focused on opening him up and not pleasuring him. "A-ahh! Y-y/n, your tongue...your fingers-MMhhngh! I wanna cum! O-oh-angh!" Oh right. You had forgotten that you had him in his cage somehow. Even though you knew you weren't going to allow Beel to cum, you had forgotten that his nipples were so sensitive that he could even climax just from you playing with them. And here you were, sucking on them like there was no tomorrow.

"Even better," you said while tugging on Beel's nipple even harder. "Now you can't cum no matter what." Beel kept on moaning, tears starting to well up in his eyes as he begged for release. "HaahNGHH! Y/n! Please-Ungh, nnhh," Beel couldn't take it anymore, and you hadn't even started fucking him. "Stop begging, Beel. Let's just get this punishment over with and maybe I'll let you cum."

You swiftly took your fingers out of Beel and stopped suckingg on his chest. "On the floor, Beel. All fours." Beel was quick to follow your orders, getting down on the floor on his hands and knees, his body trembling from previous pleasure. You positioned yourself behind Beel, grabbing his ass. He whimpered softly as continued to massage his rear, feeling up his thighs and spreading his rim.

Once you finally got bored of groping him, you gave him a little smack before pulling his hips up and getting yourself into position. Finally, you thought. I already edged myself once for the sake of this punishment. Lining yourself up to Beel's entrance, your hand kept a firm grip on his hips. They're going to do it! Y/n's finally going t- any thoughts that occupied Beel's head were gone the moment you thrusted into him.

"U-UNGhh--ghkk..." Beel choked on his own spit as he finally felt your cock enter him. You hadn't been merciful when thrusting into him. Instead of slowly easing into him like you usually did, you harshly thrusted your entire length inside of him, knocking the breath out of him.

"Unghh...So...big.." Beel could hardly make a proper sentence. He could feel your dick pressing on his sweet spot and stretching his stomach out. He felt so full! Every single spot inside of him felt so full of your cock that he could hardly take it! Just as Beel was still making an attempt to pull himself together, you began to thrust into him.

Your pace was rough and unforgiving, nothing kind about it. You kept such a tight grip on Beel's hips that you knew there would be a bruise soon enough. Beel, on the other hand, could barely even think. All he could focus on was how your cock kept on pistoning in and out of him. His eyes were rolled back into his head and mouth was stuck in an "o" shape as he tried to find something to hold onto. He was going to break!

It hadn't even been five minutes yet and Beel felt an upcoming orgasm. "Haahnngh, Y/N! ANnnhH! I-I'm gonna...Ohh, UMNNGGGHH♡" Beel knew for sure that he was going to cum soon, and your unrelenting pace would only aid his upcoming orgasm.

Right when he felt himself about to cum, you stopped fucking into him. "Just so you know, Beel, I still haven't unlocked your cage. You're not going to be getting any orgasms tonight," you said with a devilish grin. "N-no~Pleashe, I'll do anything! I jush wanna cum~" Beel slurred, not able to get his sentence out of his mouth properly. "Well that's too bad Beel~," you mocked him, picking up your pace again. "You're not going to cum, and it's final."

Beel's sobs and choked moans filled the room as the two of you continued to go at it. Beel knew that should have already cum sometime ago, but the cage on his clit wouldn't let him! His clit desperately throbbed from within its cage, begging to be released. "Y/n...GhhKKH! I-I- Hannghh♡ Please- let me-" Beel attempted to plead with you, but his voice kept on being interrupted by his pathetic moans.

"What is it, Beel? Speak up, I couldn't hear you very well," you say in a condenscending tone. You lean down and get close to Beel's ear. "You shouldn't even worry your pretty little head about cumming. I locked your dumb clit up so that you could just give up on the idea of ever cumming." Without warning, you harshly pulled Beel's hair as he let out an involuntary moan. "If you hadn't been a stupid slut that only cares about getting his upcoming orgasm, this wouldn't have happened. Yet here you are, moaning like a cheap whore. I'm sure you love this, don't you, Beel?"

Today seemed like a normal day, you got up and went through your morning routine like clockwork. Solomon was always at work before you but the two of you liked to make it a game even if you always ‘lost’, but your coworker knew not to push you too far out of his respect for your dedication to helping the Demons that inhabit your shared workplace. An old castle used to be where the large spread of buildings sit, though some argued that letting the crumbling mass be torn down instead of being preserved for historical value plagued the area around your work space despite the more than prepared guards who were suited up to handle any type of attack. Human or Demon. 

Passing by the guards with quick greetings you entered into the lobby where the hall split into two directions, to the left for visitors and to the right for staff. You waved to the barely awake Amanda before scanning your keycard and ID and standing back as the heavy steel doors whirred to life and their inner mechanisms unlocked with heavy clunking sounds. Once the light turned on you pushed your way past the parting doors and didn’t flinch as they quickly slammed shut behind you, creating a puff of air against your back. You turned to the break room and saw Solomon already sipping a cup of coffee, pointing to another one on the counter next to him. 

“You didn’t let it cool down did you?” You ask, face scrunching up at the idea as you put your belongings on the table nearby and grabbed the cup. Good, it was still warm. 

“You know I would never do something that cruel to you, my star pupil.” He smiled over the rim of his cup while you sat down in one of the chairs tucked into the table.

“Yeah yeah you old fart~” You tease back, rolling your eyes in fake annoyance. It had been so long since you joined Devildom and was tucked under the Demonologist Solomon King’s wing, it’s hard to even remember what it was like back then when you didn’t know any better about the cute and creepy hidden behind those heavy doors. 

At first you found him arrogant and unnecessarily cryptic but over time you realized that wasn’t all who was, he deserved to be confident since he was one of if not the most knowledgeable Demonologist in the country, even back in Jerusalem he was renowned for his abilities so his reputation was nothing but pure gold to work with. At least now you could appreciate your mentor’s personality, though his ability to cook would have you rather eating the bricks your joint workspace was built with. You sipped your coffee and idly played on your phone until a timer went off to alert you that it was almost time to clock in and officially start the work day. 

You stood up and walked over to your locker and kneeled, quickly unlocked it via inputting your personal keycode. Solomon chugged the last of his coffee and offered you a hand to help you up, which you took with a silly expression as you tossed your now empty coffee cup into the trashcan by the door. The two of you walked together down the hall and turned into a section of rooms where the Little Ds were kept. You handed Solomon a clipboard and free pen before you pulled on some protective gloves and shoe covers as per policy when interacting with any class of Demon. The Imps kept in their little containment units weren’t a huge risk but it was better to be safe than sorry, since it was so early for the typically nocturnal creatures you were coming in to inspect them a bit before they needed to go to bed. Solomon read over the previous inspection papers from the earlier shift as you unlocked the first door into the Yellow Unit and stepped in only to be greeted by the loud chirps and growls of the bouncy demons at your feet. 

The round shadowy demons scattered around your boots, claws yanking at the protective sleeve despite not being able to tear the industrial material. You counted all the little heads and relayed to Solomon. 

“I count 21 Yellow Imps. Can you confirm?” You ask, eyes not leaving the crowd below as Solomon counted them in record time, nodding and writing down the number. 

“I confirm 21 Yellow Imps. Do you see Number 2?” He asked as you knelt down slowly into the swarm of small creatures, hands parting the crowd in order to find the one you needed.

Number 2 let out a cackling noise as he skittered up into your hands, mouth stretched into a huge grin. You nod, “I have found Number 2, do I proceed?” 

Solomon rereads the entry from the previous sheet of paper and gives you a thumbs up without looking up from the clipboard. So you let the demon crawl up your shoulder so you can hear him better as you inspect the rest of the Greed Imps, fingers pressing into their mostly solid bodies and watching how their ombre eyes move under your practiced gaze. Number 2 happily chattered away in your ear as he updated you on what happened during the night time shift. Of course you had to double check with Solomon to make sure everything on paper was accurate to the recordings of earlier. 

You noted out loud, “Number 16 and Number 9 apparently fought over a piece of food that ended in them clawing at each other so hard that the head covers that looked similar to comically small top hats that were knocked off which resulted in a small bout of confusion in figuring out which ‘hat’ belonged to who.” 

After you felt Number 21’s fangs to make sure that they were in safe condition you let them down and let the smaller demon float away back into a small separate group amongst the room of Imps. Number 2 gripped your ear but you cooed at him and ran the pad of your thumb over his horns. 

“I know, little guy but Dr. King and I have to go inspect the other Imps okay? We’ll see you again in the middle of our shifts for your afternoon vitals check and once more for your breakfast once it’s night time. I pinky promise~” You giggle as you feel your finger get hugged and rubbed against by a chubby cheek before Number 2 let you put him back down on the ground to rejoin the rest of his friends.

You looked around before standing up fully and stepping carefully to avoid squashing any shadow demons before Solomon followed suit, shutting the door behind him and locking it and checking off the status of the Yellow Unit. The rest of inspections went as smooth as possible for having to handle 126 other Imps, especially with the more volatile natures of Envy in the Orange Unit and Wrath in the Green Unit, who always fought for your attention and each other during this time of day. 

The Sloth Imps always gave you nerves at how limp they would look when laying on the ground as if dead and deflated but with enough practice you were able to tell that all of them were simply asleep or playing dead to avoid having to do much during your inspection. Sometimes their sleep schedules would mess with the typical nocturnal activities of demons but Sloth Imps simply operated a little differently than their 6 Alternates.

Right after locking the Sloth’s Purple Unit, Solomon’s radio came to life and a voice from another employee shouted out. “ALL S RANK STAFF MEMBERS TO LOADING DOCK. I REPEAT: ALL S RANK STAFF TO LOADING DOCK! WE HAVE A CODE A-R. CODE A-R. OVER AND OUT!” 

Solomon’s calm smile broke into a near manic grin as he slipped the clipboard into the bin by the Purple Unit’s door and grabbed you by the wrist. Your memory shook as you went through all the codes in your workbook and what A-R could mean while Solomon whipped through lower ranked staff members like a bat out of Hell (heh). 

I-S meant Imps, and if they were a single color class then the first letter of their color would be listed. I-S-Y, for Yellow. For example.

L-D meant Lower Demons. Your typical run of the mill average creature without any color class, though L-D-S and L-D-I was for Succubi and Incubi and needed more specific security features in order to make sure only specialized staff members would work with the charming demons. 

H-D was for the less common Higher Demon, which was honestly just there just in case Devildom actually did somehow get a stronger demon in their facility. 

CODE KING was the reddest of red flags. There was a King Demon a very, very, very long time ago but he eventually went to Sleep and his son took over along with a servant/guardian demon but those were practically mythical demons, similar to the rusty CODE G which was reserved for High Ranking Angels. But you didn’t work with Angels so you barely knew anything about what their codes would be. 

A-R… CODE A-R… 

“Oh shit-” You mumbled out loud as Solomon slapped his clearance pass against the key reader and brought you into the giant loading dock, which could be compared to a large warehouse in regards to size and space.

A-R meant Avatar Class Demons. Not quite as powerful as those that would warrant a Code King, but those that were so beyond the strength of Higher Demons that they had to get their own category. Avatars hadn’t been sighted since The Great Depression, where the country basically became an upper level of Hell until things got back to normal. Not that you would consider nowadays to be Heavenly but it was better than back then. 

Devildom’s personal militia came into the loading dock with seven large reinforced cubes, slight dents and scratches just barely showing under the dock’s bright lights. That was definitely a concern. Those cubes weren’t cheap because they were special made for the strongest demons you had on record. That is, ever since the last sighting of any of the seven Avatars. Wait- there were seven cubes. If you didn’t count that two were connected on their own separate bed that pulled the ungodly weight inside of course. 

You looked to Solomon and he looked back to you, the expression on his face was a mixture of sheer horror and absolutely nerding out. And the noises from inside some of the cubes didn’t help with your instinctive urge to hide away… But you didn’t get this job because you were a weak willed coward, you passed all the tests and waivers with flying colors, even able to resist the charm abilities of the Succubi/Incubi in containment and back at the testing range. 

You gripped Solomon’s hand for a brief moment before letting out a sigh and stepping forward to meet up with another S Rank Scientist who was also star struck at the trembling metallic cubes.

“Dr. Smith what do you know so far, we heard you over the radio.” Solomon spoke up as you looked over your shoulder to the cubes being carted away to a different part of the dock in order to figure out the rest of the processing order. 

“We got a call from a small group of hikers who noticed that a mansion nearby that was previously in pristine condition last week was now engulfed in flame, with giant holes and what looked like bite or claw marks in the wall and surrounding vehicles. Then of course the noises of people screaming and intense violence as one demon flew out of the flames to pluck a running man up and tossed him into the air like a toy before being let to crash into the ground. No casualties from the reporting group but they just narrowly were able to escape.” Smith sighed, her lip tightening as one cube bucked on its bed as whatever was inside was beginning to wake up from the countless shots of paralytics and tranquilizers, potentially sedatives if the previous ones weren’t enough.

“Looks like someone’s waking up, we need to get these demons under control so we can safely process them. Get Rogers and Ubah and the S-Medics and we’ll meet you at the lab okay?” You say before dragging Solomon with you to the lab with a group of armored guards around you. It was best that you go into the lab protected in case those cubes didn’t hold back the rowdy demon inside. Part of you couldn’t help but be impressed by the damage the metallic walls were handling before showing any signs of violence from the inhabitants. 

After a bit of anxious waiting the lab showed a green light above the doors and a loud buzzing sound was heard. Your team slowly entered the doorway as Smith jogged up to you. 

“It’s not as bad as we thought but it’s still pretty rough. One demon has had a pair of wings cut off, another is currently regrowing severed limbs while the one that woke up early is muzzled despite being able to spit acid, but the metal is still keeping the mouth mostly shut.” She said, leading you and Solomon to the slightly smaller part of the lab where the two of you gazed through secured glass to see the creatures being carefully processed by nurses operating machines and some guards near the enter and exit ways in each section of the processing tables.

Their forms were unlike you had ever seen before, much larger than even your biggest demons in the entirety of Devildom. Since the full reveal of the unconscious bodies wasn’t completely visible you had to guess the giant insectoid centaur with double the amount of nurses and guards working on it was just one example on how large and monstrous Avatars could get. 

Smith must’ve heard you thinking and commented, “The one with a separate team has a fast metabolism so they need to work twice as fast to avoid waking it up and potentially eating someone. It was found halfway through swallowing part of a pick up truck.”

Your stomach coiled at the idea of eating metal but you were human, gifted as all get out but that was still a big leap to try and take. You made sure to balance the clinical and compassion as you were walked away into another area where you were going to observe each individual demon with assistance as others like you did the same. 

It took quite a while but soon enough you watched as the demon you were assigned was deposited into a large transparent cell kept inside a larger cube made of layered metal like the cubes back in the loading dock. It laid there limply on the ground, slowly breathing in and out as the medication was still racing through the demon’s system. 

You look to your side at the table of supplies given to you and you pressed the button on your recording equipment to begin a live documentation, as customary.

“This is Dr. MC doing a first observation of one of the seven Avatars transported to Devildom Shelter and Rehabilitation Center as of 7:39 AM on May 8th 2022. Subject is currently unconscious from processing but vitals show no need for concern, administered medication has done its job and the demon should be waking up within the hour. While full visual of the creature’s body is impossible at the moment, what can be noted is that the full length from head to tail is approximately 2.3 meters. Height and weight to be added in later upon observation. It has gold and black feather that cover most of the body while some metallic scales appear underneath some, especially near the feet and underbelly that extends from the bottom jaw to the end of the tail.” 

The demon twitches slightly and you pause for a moment as it shifts slightly on the flat floor, a talon scratches into the stone ground. 

“7:46 AM, signs of waking up are already noticeable with sudden muscle movement. One primary talon appears to be up to 35 centimeters long… Two spiraling horns exit from the temples of the skull that end in a curved point with an estimated length of 59 centimeters. The right horn has a reforming sawline in it, but has been wrapped and braced to avoid any further damage.”

You take a sip of water and continue to watch as your assigned demon slowly begins to move, it’s wings flexing to reveal a fleshy underside that was previously covered by a  thick skin that peeked from some feathers near the first shoulder blade. You make sure to make note of the bronze colored claws at the ends of the black skinned wings as well as the strange white bones that you should be struggling to see through the dark skin but they appear to be highlighted in a luminous powder. Strange. 

Some time passes… This was always the tense part of processing new demons. The waiting… It was akin to climbing to the top of a rollercoaster but never quite reaching the top until your patient woke up with typically unhappy responses. It was a test of patience, that's for sure.

“8:14 AM, Avatar is unresponsive but does have occasional activity of the muscles and quicker breathing that lasts for fifteen seconds before calming down to a slow rhythm. The wings have attempted flapping but don’t do much before tiring out and folding back into the sides of the subject’s back, almost as if a type of camouflage as the dark skin blends in with the darker parts of the feathers coating its body. Will keep an eye on that aspect in further testing.”

A groan cuts through the air as your demon starts twitching again, the white feathers around its head puff up as the face scrunches up like someone was shining a bright light in the demon’s face. You looked up to the ceiling and personally didn’t find the lights that bright but if it was to be compared to the sun just barely being up outside the facility you would note how that might feel different for someone who was drugged out of their mind. 

“Mmmmnngff…” The demon slurs out with effort, visibly trying to shake itself awake from the heavy weight of the medication.

“8:26 AM, subject is now making noise and attempting to force the body to move…” You say quieter than before just in case the demon continues making any noise.

A few minutes of silence… You sigh under your breath and watch as it squirms weakly on the ground, the feathers at the end of the long tail fluttering slightly. You fidget in your seat, tilting your head slightly to see if there were any more of those white feathers surrounding the demon’s tanned humanoid face but only the front claws had some white on them, potentially white from the powder that made the bones of the wings’ underside stand out more against the skin. Your mind couldn’t help but think when those white feathers puffed up that your demon looked like a dandelion, which was very amusing despite how dangerous an Avatar Class Demon could get.

A few more slurred noises as the creature slowly tried shaking off the slumber, kicking out a hind leg and stretching it out so that the dark talons could fully flex. The tail flicked once more. Then the two wings fanned out at a marvelous length despite being shorter than a normal avian would need in order to carry their body length. Stunning. The gold of the feathers glimmered against the ceiling’s set of lights and you couldn’t help but stand up from your chair and walk a bit closer to the clear container. 

Suddenly two eyes popped open, a blur of blue and yellow almost made them look gray against the orange tinted sclera. The pupils widened upon seeing you on the other side of the glass before the demon bolted from you and puffed up, baring a set of large teeth that were oddly blunt versus the sets of canines that were a good 13 centimeters long each. It squawked at you and flapped the short wings, obviously showing off how big and dangerous this demon could be and you simply stood there and watched, putting a hand up to tell the guards by the door to stand down as you could hear the sound of their boots hitting the ground in order to protect you.

“Hello there,” You wave up at the demon who snarled at you and flared the few tail feathers up at you, which almost looked like a face if you looked at the arrangement at the right angle. “I’m Dr. MC and I’m not here to hurt you. You’re safe here. The rest of the demons you were found with are being taken care of too. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

The demon clawed at the wall behind it and to the side before giving up and then trying to headbutt the glass separating you and it. You ask again, keeping your voice calm but firm.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” 

A pause before the demon made a strange noise akin to clearing its throat before the guttural noises peeled back into a voice you found oddly human. It wasn’t a nice voice but you don’t blame it for being scared.

“Why should I trust what you say, puny human?” The demon spat out at you, finally deflating a little while still holding eye contact. 

You give it a shrug, “You don’t have to, I just know that some poachers saw you and your group and decided to get it on your claws and such. The carnage was reported and we safely transported you here so no one else would get hurt, including the seven of you.”

It rolled it’s eyes at you before squinting, “They tried to saw off my horn! They got what they deserved.” The creature growled, reaching up as if to make sure the horn was still there, only to pause at the brace and bandages holding the nearly severed horn in the right position. 

You smiled as the dots finally started connecting in the demon’s mind. You? A human. Or well, a set of humans. Gathered his brothers together to get away from those disgusting hunters who treated them like garbage? Why would you do something like that?

“That’d be a shame, they’re very nice horns. I don’t think I’ve ever seen horns that spiral so many times.” You say, looking up at them nonchalantly. 

“Don’t try to butter me up! You have me in a cage! Why I oughta…” The feathers began to puff up again as the demon slammed a hand down.

The guards tried to move but you turned to them and shouted, “I TOLD YOU TO STAND DOWN.” 

The demon’s eyes widened slightly as the strange humans holding guns backed away from you and went back to the area by the door. Such a soft thing like you caring so much but still having so much authority in your voice… He hated to admit it but that was impressive to see. So he wouldn’t! 

You turn back to it, “I apologize. These types of containment areas are temporary, once you’re all cleared for rehabilitation we can get you set up in ones much more comfortable and personable if that’s to you liking. We’ve never had an Avatar here, much less seven all at once! It will take a while so sorry for the inconvenience and discomfort. Speaking of which, since we’re speaking now. Do you have a name that humans can utter in order to address you?”

He stepped back slightly, what kind of trick was this? Some good cop bad cop schtick? This Avatar of Sin knew much better! Well, usually… It had been so long to have a human stay cautious but still so kind despite how easy it would be to reenact what happened back at that horrible mansion in the forest…

“You may call me The Great Mammon. And ‘m guessin you want to know my sin too? Well, it’s Greed so my new nest better be full of only the best things.” He smirked, puffing out his scaly chest so you could see how broad it was. 

“Of course Mammon, Avatar of Greed. We’ll see what we can do.” You turn to the recording equipment and speak more clearly, “8:38 AM, subject self identified as The Great Mammon, the Avatar of Greed. It has passed the observational period and soon it will be-” “It? Do I look like a lamp to ya human?! You can use He for me or nothin at all.” He huffed. Why were facing away from him now? He surely hadn’t bored you already.

You bowed in apology, “Correction: Mammon uses He/Him pronouns. Not Negotiable. He will soon enter the interview period where we can piece together the story on how Mammon and other six Avatars got into Devildom’s care. End of recording.” You press a finger down on the button to stop recording and then reach for your water, taking a few swigs before turning to speak to Mammon again.

“My name isn’t human by the way. You can call me MC although you will hear me addressed as Dr. MC with They/Them pronouns.  I will have to do stuff like record official conversations and whatnot between us for the people in charge but during times like this we can be a little more casual, but remember you’re not in charge or in danger while here. We’ll need you to work with us so we can make sure you and your group recover safely before even thinking of releasing you back into the wild, okay? We can’t promise perfection, but we can try.” You smile at Mammon as he looks down at you at his default height on all fours at 1.7 meters tall, you estimate while standing on his hind legs he’d be around double or so that. 

You’ll make sure to make note of that later. 

“So Mammon, those medications must have you feeling pretty woozy. I’m guessing you’ll want some food and water that isn’t human flesh sometime soon?” You ask, knowing the guards never fully got used to how casual your tone got when not doing Big Doctor Stuff. 

He shrugged slightly, “I’m kinda thirsty but not so hungry. But Beelzebub will definitely be hungry if he isn’t already, I’d watch your arms around him. Those are like french fries to him.”

You blink at him, “Which one’s Beelzebub?”

Mammon raised a brow at you before remembering you didn’t know his name until he told you. “The big fly guy, ya know? Honeycomb eyes, buzzes loud and was covered in blood.” He waved a claw in a vague gesture like how his brother would fly around.

You nod, “Oh right! Big guy that Beelz… I’ll make sure to pass that along-”

He interrupted you, “And when you mentioned not promising perfection! Don’t say that to Lucifer, the big black feathered mostly bird guy with the long neck. He DEMANDS perfection, stubborn asshole…” 

You were happy to learn more of the names of the Avatars at Devildom. Apparently they were all brothers who were traveling to a bigger area to spread out and hunt in until those poachers got each of them in sets of snares, traps and blowgun-like tools to give them stuff to make them unable to move. 

Poor Lucifer (Pride) was fully conscious when having his lower set of wings torn off… Beelzebub (Gluttony) would be regenerating his sliced off arms and one leg back soon but it was still gruesome. Satan’s (Wrath) metal muzzle would have to be removed while he was still under or else his acid would make whoever was operating on him turn into swiss cheese. Thankfully Belphegor (Sloth) and Asmodeus (Lust) were mostly unharmed as the hooved demon was just choking out whatever he could reach with his tail while Asmodeus the drama queen now had cuts on his smooth skin and scratches on his glistening carapace.