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Chapter Text

Valentino took a long drag from his cigar, exhaling the smoke with a contented sigh. He eyed the girl, one brow arched. "Remind me, sweetheart," he said, tapping ash into the tray, "what exactly can you do for me? I've got high hopes, but I need you to spell it out." His gaze raked over her, a hint of expectation and something darker lurking in his eyes.

A girl stood before Valentino, her appearance unremarkable by Velvette's exacting standards. She was cute, with a pretty face that had a certain charm, but lacked the stunning, model-perfect features that would have kept her in her boutique. A short stature that seemed almost delicate compared to the tall, statuesque figures Velvette preferred. Her lack of presence and poise was the very reason she had been so readily discarded, passed down to Valentino

Valentino cut off the girl's attempt to discuss her past life, shaking his head with a dismissive "tut tut." He could see she was inexperienced, a novice in the ways of pleasing a demon like him. While there was a niche market for such content, the vast majority of Hell's denizens had far more mainstream tastes. They craved the mainstream: big, bountiful breasts, voluptuous, jiggling asses, Instagram faces, exaggerated moans, and OTP slutty acting. Anything less was considered amateurish and inadequate, a poor offering for a demon's desires.

Valentino's gaze raked over the girl, a look of surprise and slight disgust on his face. "Take off your clothes," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I need to see exactly what I'm working with here." He shook his head, still in disbelief at the sight of her clothed form. When she had first entered, Valentino had been shocked. Compared to the other, scantily clad workers in the vicinity, the girl looked like a nun in her modest attire. Velvette must have thought it would be amusing to send him such a prim and proper little thing, a cruel joke at his expense.

The girl's hands trembled as she pulled the sweater up and over her head, revealing a lacy bra underneath. She hesitated for a moment before hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt, the fabric swishing softly as she tugged it down over her legs. The skirt pooled around her ankles, exposing her not so modest panties.

Valentino's eyes raked over the girl's newly exposed body, his gaze as hungry and intense as a predator stalking its prey.

The demon whistled, a low, appreciative sound that echoed through the room. "You shouldn't hide this, chica," he said, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "Turn around for me, let me see what you're working with."

The girl hesitantly complied, turning away from him with a slight blush staining her cheeks. As she did, Valentino's eyes widened slightly, a hiss of approval escaping his lips. Her rear was not the most impressive he had ever seen, but it complimented her figure well. The curves were subtle, yet enticing, hinting at a hidden allure beneath her prim and proper exterior. Valentino could work with this, mold her into something far more pleasing to the eye and appetite.

He reached into the pocket of his tailored blazer and produced a sleek, black business card. He held it out to the girl, his eyes glinting with a wicked, expectant light. "Before you can even begin to work for me, my dear," he said, his voice dripping with dark promise, "you have some...preliminary work to attend to."

He flipped the card towards her, the glossy surface catching the light. "Take this," Valentino commanded, a cruel smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Have some fun at my club tonight. And when you return to me, I expect you to have sucked at least twenty cocks and taken seven in your tight little ass. Consider it a...job requirement. Understand, sweet thing?"

The girl looked at Valentino with wide, bewildered eyes, her brow furrowed in confusion at the demon's crude command. "But sir!" she protested, her voice barely above a whisper. "Surely I could start with some solo work first? I'm not sure I'm ready for..." She trailed off, unable to even voice the depraved acts Valentino had in mind.

At her suggestion, Valentino threw back his head and laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that echoed off the walls. He stood up abruptly, his tall, imposing form looming over the girl. In a flash, he had grabbed her face, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of her cheeks as he pulled them taut. His eyes raked over her face, a cruel, appraising look that made her feel stripped bare, inside and out.

"You want to fuck yourself on camera first?" Valentino purred, his voice dripping with disdain. "You think you have the fans who want to see that innocent little cunt of yours? Look at you, with the aura of a depressed little donkey, all solemn and downcast." He shook his head, releasing her cheeks with a sharp flick of his fingers. "No, mi amour , you need to lose that virginity and gain some confidence. That's what drove Velvette to toss you aside like yesterday's garbage."

Valentino waved his hand, dismissing the girl with a casual, almost bored gesture. His two attendants stepped forward, blocking his view of her with two large, ornate fans. The girl turned around, her shoulders slumped and her heart heavy with despair as she left the room. She felt even more gutted than when Velvette had so callously dismissed her.

With a heavy sigh, she resigned herself to facing the harsh realities of surviving on her own, without the income and protection that working for the Vees could have provided.

Chapter Text

Kitty placed the silver tray on the table, the glint of the metal a stark contrast to the rich, velvet fabric. In the center of the tray sat a single, crisp envelope. Valentino's brow furrowed as he eyed the envelope curiously, a red stamp emblazoned on its surface with the letter 'A' stamped in bold, crimson ink.

"What's this?" the man asked, his tone laced with mild annoyance at the unexpected interruption. Without a second thought, he plucked the envelope off the tray and carelessly tossed it aside, letting it flutter to the ashtray already brimming with cigarette ashes.

Valentino unfolded the letter, his eyes squinting as he tried to make out the handwriting. The words seemed to dance before his vision, the cramped script difficult to decipher. With a grunt of annoyance, he shoved the letter towards his robotic assistant, demanding that she read it aloud.

"Read it," Valentino ordered, his tone sharp with irritation. "I can't be bothered with this nonsense right now."

The robotic assistant beeped in acknowledgement and read aloud

“To my dear friend Valentino,

I am writing to you in discretion to make a request.

I would like you to produce a film for me, due to the nature of the film I will be offering $300,000 as payment to fund it.

These are my requirements:

1. The star must be untouched and innocent, this is vital.

2. She must be bounded, gagged and her nipples must be clamped

3. Her eyes and face must be in view, I need to see her cry, at your discretion the gag may be removed so I can hear her

4. Spank and whip her before the main act where she is impaled with an object, I don’t want a real man entering her.

5. I would like to watch the filming in privacy and I would like access to her after the film is complete

Of course the price can be negotiated, but i’m sure you’ll be able to accommodate my requests.

Yours Truly,

-A”

Valentino laughed to himself "that time of year again?" he mused, a wicked glint in his eye. Make no mistake, the man knew exactly who had written this twisted missive, just as he had received a similar request seven years prior. Valentino's mind flashed back to the previous encounter, a twisted smile playing on his lips as he recalled the depraved delights they had indulged in together.

This time, once again, he was more than happy to oblige. The director's pulse quickened with a mix of excitement and cruel anticipation.

He turned to his assistant, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Kitty!" he barked, snapping his fingers impatiently. "Bring me a paper and pen, immediately!" The robot acknowledged the command with a beep, quickly retrieving the requested writing materials.

As he waited for Kitty to return, Valentino's thoughts drifted to his long-time partner, Vox. The poor soul had no idea about the forbidden business dealings Valentino had arranged, the depraved films he had directed for the patron.But money was money, as Vox would no doubt agree. The last film had been a monumental success, gaining a massive audience and lining their pockets with a hefty sum. There was no doubt in Valentino's mind that this next one would be even more profitable, despite its sickening subject matter.

Just as Kitty returned with the paper and pen, Valentino's hand was already reaching for his phone, ready to call back the girl. "And call back that girl," he ordered, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I have a...deal for her."

Chapter Text

The girl stepped back into the lounge, a renewed sense of determination and hope coursing through her veins. Once more, she stood before him and waited for him to begin.

He lifted a single finger and beckoned the girl to come closer, his eyes never leaving her face. She hesitantly stepped forward until she stood a mere shoulder's width away from him. Suddenly, Valentino’s hand shot out, grasping her jaw firmly in his large palm. A sharp gasp escaped the girl's lips as she found herself face-to-face with the overlord.

"Listen closely," Valentino whispered, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly. "I'm going to make you a one-time offer, chiquita. And if you decline, I swear to you that you will never set foot in this building again, or anywhere on this side of the pentagram. Do I make myself clear?" His voice was low and dangerous.

She nodded, her eyes wide and fearful. This was her only shot, surely she had to comply.

Valentino began "I will give you more opportunities for fame, money..." As he spoke, his other hand moved to snake around the girl's waist, pulling her flush against his body. "...and protection. Special attention, all for the price of one film from you." With those words, he yanked her onto his knee, his grip on her waist tightening as he settled her onto his lap.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered his terms. "In this film, you won't have to engage in any explicit sexual acts. You won't be required to perform oral pleasures on anyone, and your precious virginity will remain untouched. Doesn't that sound like a good deal, little one?"

The girl nodded slowly, hardly daring to breathe as she listened to Valentino's offer. Though a sense of relief washed over her at the prospect of preserving her innocence, she remained cautious and afraid to speak, not wanting to jeopardize her newfound chance at a better life.

Valentino tucked a strand of hair behind the girl's ear, his fingers lingering on her skin. He exposed her neck to his gaze, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he posed his question. "Have you heard of BDSM before, carino?" he asked. The girl swallowed hard, her heart racing as she nodded. "Yes," she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Bondage, dominance, submission, and masochism." The words felt strange on her tongue, a foreign language that she had only a passing familiarity with.

Valentino's lips pressed a kiss behind the girl's ear as he praised her knowledge. "Clever girl," he purred. He paused for a moment, letting the anticipation build before he continued, his voice lowering to a whisper. "My client has a very specific request. He's looking for a girl who is not only innocent and untouched, but one who would be willing to embrace a more...intense role. One where I can tie her up, spank that pretty bottom of yours until it's red and tingling, and pinch those delicate nipples until you're begging for more." Valentino's hand drifted lower, his fingers skimming over the girl's hip as he spoke. "The question is, my dear, do you think you could be up for the job? Could you give this man the experience he craves while still keeping your most precious gift intact?"

The girl considered Valentino's words, her heart pounding in her chest as she weighed the offer. It didn't sound too terrible. A few spanks, some rope, nothing too invasive or permanent. Surely, that was a small price to pay for the fame, money, and protection he promised. She nodded, much to his delight.

"Such a good girl," Valentino purred, his lips trailing hot kisses along the column of the girl's neck, her breath catching in her throat as jolts of pleasure raced through her body with each press of his mouth against her skin. The girl's heart raced as Valentino's knee began to bounce beneath her, the motion stimulating her most intimate area with each word he spoke. "There's one more thing, after the video is complete," he murmured. "My client wants a bit of time to have some fun with you, just like the fun we're having now..." He paused, letting the implication of his words sink in as his knee continued its teasing rhythm. The girl's cheeks flushed, and she squirmed slightly in his lap, a mix of nerves and anticipation coiling in her belly. "How does that sound, bonita?" Valentino breathed against her ear, his hand drifting up to cup the curve of her breast, his thumb brushing over the soft mound. The girl swallowed hard, her mind reeling with the implications of his request as she tried to process the sensations coursing through her inexperienced body.

The girl whimpered softly, her body trembling as Valentino's hands gripped her hips more firmly “t-that sounds fine.”

He pushed down, grinding her hips against his knee with increasing vigor, the texture of his trousers creating delicious friction against the thin, damp fabric of her panties.

Each push and grind brought the girl closer to the edge, her whimpers and needy whines filling the air as Valentino manipulated her body. She could feel the heat building between her thighs, her core clenching and fluttering around nothing as he brought her towards a precipice she had never before experienced.

"Mmm, such a responsive little thing," Valentino purred. "You're going to be a big hit with my client mi amor. And with me, of course." He punctuated his words with a particularly hard grind of his knee, sending a jolt of intense pleasure shooting through the girl's core, pushing her that much closer to the brink of ecstasy.

"S-so, we have a deal?" Valentino growled, his voice thick with lust. The girl could only whimper and writhe in his lap, her body coiled tight and ready to snap. "Finish first, bonita. Come for me, and then we can seal this contract properly." His command was emphasised by a particularly hard thrust of his knee, sending the girl hurtling over the edge.

With a few more rough, deliberate circles of his fingers against her sensitive clit, combined with the relentless grinding of his knee, the overwhelming pleasure became too much for the girl to bear. A loud cry tore from her throat as an orgasm crashed over her, her body convulsing and shaking in Valentino's lap.

The girl's mouth fell open in a silent scream of ecstasy, her eyes squeezing shut as liquid flooded her panties, the fabric instantly soaked through.

Still coming down from her high, the girl found herself in a daze, her mind hazy and her body pliant. She barely registered Valentino taking her hand and placing the delicate feathered quill in her trembling fingers. With a wave of his other hand, he conjured a contract out of a puff of pink smoke, the parchment materializing before the girl's unfocused eyes.

On autopilot, the girl signed the contract without bothering to read its contents, too blissed out to think clearly. Her signature appeared on the document, sealing her fate and binding her to the terms of the agreement with Valentino.

Chapter Text

A wiry static crackled through the air as the radio on the bedside table suddenly burst to life with a blood-curdling shriek, the distorted scream of a damned soul echoing through the room as smoky figure materialised from the ground. The Radio Demon, Alastor.

He smoothed down the lapels of his coat as he hummed a melody. The thrill of his recent kills still coursed through his veins, his eye twitching with lingering adrenaline.

Alastor let out a shuddering breath, trying to calm himself as he brushed back the sweat-dampened strands of hair clinging to his forehead.

He paced the room as he attempted to regain his composure. Alastor knew all too well what was happening to him, this restless, insatiable urge that consumed his every thought. It was that time of year again, the season of lust and desire that gripped Hell with an iron fist.

In the seven long years of his absence, Alastor had been spared this annual torment, his infernal nature muted by the weight of his deal. But now, with his return, the demon's true appetites came rushing back with a vengeance.

A knock at the door startled Alastor out of his agitation. He paused, his eye twitching as he clenched his jaw, before stalking over to the mirror to assess his appearance. Satisfied that he still cut an imposing figure, he called out in a voice tight with tension.

"Yes? What is it?" Alastor snapped, his teeth gritted as he awaited the response.

To his surprise, it was Charlie who stood on the other side of the door, a bright smile on her face and a pink envelope clutched in her small hand. "Someone dropped this off in the mailbox!" she chirped. "It doesn't say who it's from, but it was addressed to you. Could it be...a secret admirer? Ooh, or maybe-"

But before Charlie could finish her speculations, Alastor had snatched the envelope from her grasp, his long fingers closing around the delicate paper.

Alastor took a deep, calming breath, trying to steady himself as he spoke to Charlie. "Thank you, dear. If that's all, would you please excuse me?" His words were measured and polite, a stark contrast to his earlier abruptness. It was clear that he was making an effort to remedy his earlier rudeness, as he usually maintained a more composed demeanor when interacting with the hotel staff, especially Charlie.

Without waiting for a response, Alastor shut the door firmly. He stood there for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as he clutched the letter in his trembling hands.

With a sense of urgency, Alastor began to examine the envelope, searching for any signs that it had been tampered with or opened previously. He noted with relief that the seal was still intact, the wax unbroken and the paper crisp and clean. A small sigh of relief escaped his lips as he realized that the letter had not been read by prying eyes.

However, a flicker of unease crossed Alastor's face as he remembered his specific instructions. He had always made it clear that any correspondence for him was to be delivered directly to his tower, not left at the hotel's reception desk. And yet, here was this letter, placed in the hands of the first demon who happened by.

He broke the seal of the envelope and pulled out the letter inside.

Dear friend,

It would be a great pleasure for me to fulfil your request, I have just the girl in mind and I’ll arrange for you to view the filming discreetly.

I’m unclear on how urgent this is however. If you would like this for tomorrow, it can be arranged but you must understand that with short notice it will be a further stretch of funds. $500,000

I eagerly await your response

Valentino

Alastor's gaze drifted downwards, his eye widening as he noticed the prominent strain of his erection against the fabric of his tailored pants. The ache in his groin was already unbearable, his body screaming with a desperate need that could no longer be ignored. He needed this, needed her, with an urgency that consumed every thought and desire.

A low, feral growl rumbled in Alastor's throat as he reached for the quill and parchment on his desk. The hefty price tag Valentino had quoted barely registered in his lust-addled mind, his predicament far outweighing any concern for the exorbitant sum. With a shaking hand, he dipped the quill in the inkwell and began to scrawl his response.

As soon as the final word was written, Alastor folded the letter, his heart pounding in his chest as he sealed the envelope with a flick of his wrist. He summoned one of the tormented souls he kept in his employ, the wretched creature materializing before him with a startled yelp.

"Take this letter to Valentino, and see that it reaches his hands posthaste," Alastor commanded. "And if I discover that you've so much as glanced at its contents, I shall make the torments I've subjected you to thus far seem like the sweetest of mercies. Do I make myself clear?"

Chapter Text

Alastor stepped out of his room, his body still tingling with a mix of anticipation and barely restrained lust. He had donned a longer jacket than his usual attire, the extra fabric doing little to conceal the prominent bulge of his arousal but providing a modicum of decency as he made his way down to the reception area of the hotel.

"Ooh, Alastor!" Charlie's voice trilled, drawing the overlord's attention as he descended the grand staircase. Of course, the guests were gathered in the reception area, eagerly awaiting one of Charlie's activities.

"Are you joining us today? Today's activity will be all about financial responsibility and spending wisely!" Surely, this had to be a coincidence, a cruel twist of fate that the universe would see fit to foist such a lesson upon him at this of all times.

Lucifer who was sat next to her, cocked his eyebrow. Alastor felt his smirk burn into him, the fallen angel's knowing look made him uneasy. Surely, it was merely a coincidence, a product of Lucifer's insufferable pride in his own wealth and power as the king of Hell. He couldn't possibly know the true reason behind Alastor's current predicament.

Alastor chuckled, “Splendid my dear! I’m sure our guests will benefit tremendously! Especially with all the trinkets filling some of our rooms” his eyes directly looking at Lucifer whose previously smug expression was now an offended one.

“Unfortunately I have other matters to attend to, but I implore you hear from my good friend Husker regarding such vanities.”

As he briskly walked away he heard a yowl of frustration from the man. Alastor was content with the attention redirected and could leave with his dignity.

Once he had left the hotel, he apparated via his radio waves in to the entertainment district. Luckily for Alastor, he was assured Vox would be away from his cameras for most of the day, being busy attending meetings. Valentino had also agreed to set up a radio for him to easily pass through in to the tower.

Meanwhile, in a secluded wing of the tower, Valentino could be heard barking out a flurry of orders to his underlings. The set was being rapidly transformed to suit Alastor’s desires, a dark and intimate space taking shape.

"Black out those lights, I want it darker than a nun's habit!" Valentino snapped, his voice echoing through the room. "And bring me that bondage bed, the one with the sturdy posts."

A crew of demons scrambled to assemble the items, their movements quick and efficient. The room began to fill with an array of implements, each one more provocative than the last. Paddles and whips were laid out in neat rows, the leather smooth and the wood polished. Spreader bars, gag, nipple clamps, ropes, and cuffs were all arranged with precision.

The centerpiece of the room was the bondage bed, its sturdy posts and steel reinforced frame promising to withstand even the most vigorous of Alastor's activities. Around it, a dark atmosphere was cultivated, the only light emanating from a dim, red lamp.

Across the room, a one-way mirrored wall reflected nothing but the dark expanse of the room, a lounge set up on the other side offering a completely private vantage point. A solid, lockable door ensured that no unwanted interruptions would occur, and the complete lack of windows sealed the room off from the prying eyes of the outside world.

In a nearby studio, the young girl sat nervously at a vanity, her slender fingers fidgeting with the ribbon that cinched her waist. The flowery frock she wore was a stark contrast to the usual provocative attire of the other sex workers. White stockings clad her legs, topped with Mary Jane shoes that clicked softly against the floor as she shifted in her seat.

The girl's hair had been styled prettily with a small bow adorning one side. It was a far cry from the messy, voluptuous sex hair sported by Valentino's usual stable of workers. Her makeup was equally understated, with pink blush dusting her cheeks and rosy, bitten lips that seemed to beg to be kissed.

Since Valentino would be on the inflicting end of this show, he opted for a darker look, wearing a black shirt and slacks with his gold accessories. Less kinkier than what he would usually wear when dominating but he knew his client well and what would be distasteful to him.

The radio crackled to life, static filling the air as Alastor materialized in the viewing room. Valentino greeted him warmly.

"Alastor, it's been far too long, old friend. I trust you've brought the agreed upon...contribution?" Valentino asked.

Without hesitation, Alastor reached into his coat and produced the check, the crisp paper crinkling softly as he handed it over to Valentino. The demon’s eyes widened as he scanned the amount, a low whistle of appreciation escaping his lips.

"Perfect," Valentino purred, tucking the check safely away. "I'll have Kitty fetch you a drink while you wait, my lord. No need to endure this interlude sober, hmm?"

But Alastor cut him off with a sharp gesture, his eye flashing with impatience and a hunger that could not be sated by mere drink.

"I won't be requiring her assistance, thank you," he spoke, his voice tight with barely restrained desire. With that, Alastor settled himself into a seat, his gaze locked onto the one-way mirror that offered a perfect view of the scene awaiting him.

Valentino took the hint, a knowing smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Bien, enjoy the show," he said, taking his leave and closing the door firmly behind him.

Chapter Text

The girl took a deep, shuddering breath as she gazed into the mirror, her pretty features reflected back at her in the glass. She trembled slightly as the weight of her decision crashed down upon her. A soul deal with Valentino was not something to be taken lightly, and now, standing on the precipice of no return, the girl couldn't help but wonder if she had made a grave mistake.

As the girl sat lost in thought, her heart racing, the sudden sound of a door opening behind her jolted her out of her reverie. She started, her shoulders jerking. Her head whipped around, as she investigated the source of the noise.

Jumpy, Valentino thought, that’s good. If he was going to keep Alastor’s dick hard, she’d need to be petrified, and oh was he going to give her a fright.

“Cariño…aren’t you a sight to behold, come here, let me get a closer look at you”

She stood up from the vanity chair, revealing her white stocking clad legs and adorable shoes. As she drew closer, Valentino reached out, his long fingers twirling a lock of her hair around his digit. He tugged gently, tilting the girl's chin up with his other hand, forcing her to meet his intense gaze.

It was impossible for the girl to ignore Valentino’s handsome appearance. His fitted black shirt clung to his lean frame, the sleeves casually rolled up to reveal the glint of rings on his fingers. A few buttons at the top were left undone, offering a glimpse of his chest.

“When it’s all finished, I have a room set up for you in the infirmary”

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, an infirmary room seemed a bit much she thought. He must really care about her wellbeing and comfort.

“I’ll be okay” She smiled “I’ll probably just need some water and ointment but it’s okay I bought some!”

Valentino laughed, the stupid girl had no idea what she would be in for “sweet girl…come, take my hand” He beckoned, holding out his lower arm to her. She gracefully held his hand, like she was going to go skip in a field with him.

With his other hand, he squeezed himself through his pants, fuck her hand was small in his, she was really going to be completely destroyed once he and Alastor were through with her.

She didn’t miss this little action of course, her cheeks feeling hot at the thought that this was exciting him, SHE was exciting him.

When they reached the door, Valentino looked down to her and spoke, a final pep talk.

“My client is on the other side of the mirror, make sure you look that way when you can, got it?” His warm adoring persona was now replaced with a cold one. Why would he say something like that to play with her nerves now? When they’re right at the door?

She nodded in agreement and gulped the last bit of saliva in her throat. “If…if it gets too much, is there- what can I say to stop it?”

Valentino grinned, an evil, lustful grin. He bent down to her ear. His voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Scream, cariño.”

"Cry, beg, shake, tremble. He'll like that, he'll relish every desperate, needy sound that spills from your lips."

To further emphasise his point, Valentino's teeth grazed the delicate shell of the girl's ear, a playful nip that sent a jolt of fear and unwanted excitement through her. She shuddered, a strangled gasp escaping her throat.

"But under no circumstance," he hissed, "do you say my name. This is all for his pleasure, dulce. Not a single word of me, or I swear... well, let's just say you won't enjoy the consequences."

His grip on her hand tightened, any further force and he might just crush her fingers. She winced in pain, this was definitely a mistake. There was no safe word, no way out and she had a feeling she was definitely in for more than what the man had previously outlined. Screaming? What kind of sadist was this man?

The moth winged male turned the door knob and pushed open the door, with her hand still in his, he lead her inside.

Chapter Text

Her eyes flickered around the room, the walls were a dull gray, the hardwood floors bare and scuffed. A metal-framed bed sat in the center of the room, devoid of any comfort. Just cold, unyielding pillows. In the corner, a table displayed an array of sex toys that look more like torture devices than playthings. Leather whips, metal clamps, and an array of strange, intimidating gadgets are strewn across the surface. None of it was gentle, none of it was pink and fluffy like what Valentino’s usual advertised products looked like. Among them sat a single, ominous blade that caught her eye and made her heart race.

Panicked, she wrenched at his iron grip, but Valentino's strength was unyielding. His arm remained unmoved as he silenced her with a single, stern glare.

Dragged to the foot of the bed, she had no choice but to stand helpless as he secured first one wrist, then the other, to the cuffs hanging from the bar. Trapped, arms above her head, she was at his mercy.

She pulled at the cuffs with the hope it would snap and she could make a retreat but before she could continue her efforts, Valentino returned to her side, this time with the ominous blade glinting in his hand.

He yanked at the collar of her frock and before he could make an incision, the sound of liquid hitting the floor filled his ears, the poor girl was wetting herself in fear. He smirked holding her dress up, displaying her mess and shame to the onlooker. She whimpered as her bladder emptied itself, an expression of dread on her face upon the realisation of what she had done in front of the running camera.

"I'm sorry!" she babbled desperately, voice trembling with terror. "Please don't hurt me! I'll leave, I promise! I won't come back and I won't tell anyone, please!" She pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

Valentino pressed a harsh finger against her trembling lips, silencing her desperate pleas with a sharp "Shh!" He left her hanging there, vulnerable and afraid, to retrieve a gag from the table. Returning, he barked a single, unyielding command: "Open."

Tears blurring her vision, she was forced to part her lips, allowing him to secure the gag tightly in place. The fabric tasted of dust and fear, muffling her whimpers behind the makeshift silencing tool.

Before she could even process the violation, Valentino flicked the razor-sharp blade through the flimsy fabric of her frock. The keen edge sliced downwards, parting the material like a hot knife through butter. Her delicate pink and white lace undergarments, a cute ribboned bow adorning each cup, were exposed to his ravenous, predatory gaze. The chilling air kissing her newly bared skin made her tremble, goosebumps erupting across her flesh as icy tendrils of dread and shame rippled through her quivering body. She was utterly at his mercy, a plaything for his commissioner’s twisted amusement, with no way to beg for respite.

He unshackled her wrists from the cuffs, expecting her to remain compliant as planned. Instead, she bolted for the door, desperation fueling her actions. Her hand grasped the doorknob, twisting it frantically, but it refused to yield. Valentino watched calmly, unfazed by her futile struggle, as he retrieved the coil of rope from the table.

Seizing her waist from behind, he hoisted her writhing form over his broad shoulder. She yelped and thrashed, but her struggles were no match for his immense strength. Valentino dumped her roughly onto the bed, her stomach impacting the hard mattress as she landed with a painful thud. Before she could catch her breath, he flipped her onto her front, her arms wrenched behind her back. She kicked and squirmed, but her resistance was growing weaker by the second.

Quickly, efficiently, he wrapped the rope around her wrists, binding them tightly. The rough fibers bit into her skin as he secured the knot with a sharp tug. He grabbed the gleaming blade, the metal catching the dim light filtering into the room. Her eyes widened in renewed terror as he brought the knife to her throat.

"Stop your squirming, conejita," he growled, his hot breath tickling her ear. "Unless you want me to use this spreader bar to keep those pretty legs of yours apart permanently. You wouldn't like the consequences of defiance." His voice was a low, menacing rumble that sent shivers of dread down her spine.

Valentino wrenched her upright by her bound wrists, the ropes digging cruelly into her skin as he dragged her to the foot of the bed. Bending her over the edge, he positioned her so that her most intimate area was lewdly displayed in the mirror, the camera capturing every humiliating moment.

Without a word, he retrieved a paddle from the table, the smooth wood worn and threatening. Valentino sat beside her on the bed, his large frame dwarfing her smaller one. With a rough tug, he removed the gag from her mouth, allowing her to gulp in air and catch her breath.

Before she could protest, he yanked her panties up tight, the fabric wedging itself between her soft, plump cheeks. The paddle lined up with the lower curve of her buttocks, hovering menacingly. She could feel the cool air on her exposed skin, the vulnerability making her squirm.

"Count them," Valentino commanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. The paddle remained poised, ready to strike.

Fear and anticipation gripped her heart as she stammered out, "One..." Her voice trembled, barely above a whisper. She braced herself, eyes squeezing shut, awaiting the inevitable pain to come.

The paddle struck again, a searing sting spreading across her tender flesh. "Two!" she gasped, the word tearing from her throat as a reflexive yelp. Her legs kicked instinctively, only to earn a disapproving "Tsk tsk" from Valentino.

He left her there, bent over and vulnerable, to retrieve something from the floor. Kneeling before her, he grasped her ankle firmly, unbuckling one of her Mary Jane shoes. Turning it upside down, he shook out the remnants of her bladder's failure, the urine splattering onto the floor. Refastening the shoe, he repeated the process with the other, ensuring no trace of her shame remained.

Valentino then attached a spreader bar to her ankles, the cold metal biting into her skin as he cinched it tight. The bar forced her legs apart, leaving her intimately exposed and at his mercy. Not a word of mercy, he simply smirked, enjoying the sight of her helpless, vulnerable state.

"Now, where were we?" he mused, paddle in hand, already lining up for the next strike. "Ah, yes. Count." The paddle swung back, poised to deliver the next stinging blow.

The paddle descended again and again, each strike sending a fresh wave of stinging pain radiating across her tender cheeks. "Three!" she cried out, voice raw and aching. "Four!" A strangled sob escaped her lips as the paddle struck again, her flesh already growing hot and sensitive. "Five!" She barely got the word out before the next blow fell, her rear now throbbing and blazing with pain.

Valentino grew bored of the paddle's limitations, setting it aside with a clatter. He rose, leaving her bent over and trembling at the foot of the bed. Fear gripped her heart as he walked away, unsure of what cruel implement he would choose next to continue her torment.

He returned, a whip coiled in his hand, the leather ends swaying menacingly. No longer offering the small comfort of his presence beside her, he stood, raising the whip high. She had only a moment to brace herself before the whip cracked through the air.

A searing line of agony exploded across her already tender flesh as the whip struck without warning. She screamed, a raw, primal sound of pain and fear, as a vivid red welt bloomed across her burning cheeks. Tears streamed down her face, dripping onto the bed below. The whip had left its mark, a cruel reminder of her helplessness in Valentino's unyielding grasp.

"Count," Valentino growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble. The whip cracked again, a searing line of fire lancing across her tender, throbbing flesh. "Six!" she screamed, her voice raw and broken. Tears poured down her face, dripping onto the bed below as the welt raised angrily on her skin.

She felt his fingers grasp the fabric of her panties, already damp and clinging to her intimate folds. With a single, brutal tug, he tore them away, exposing the soft, vulnerable globes of her ass to his hungry gaze. The cool air kissed her heated skin, making her shiver as she felt his eyes raking over her exposed flesh, appraising his handiwork.

"Seven," she whimpered, bracing herself for the next cruel strike. Her body trembled, muscles taut with fear and anticipation. The whip swayed, poised to paint another stripe of agony across her tender rear. She could only pray for this torment to end, even as she knew it was a fleeting hope in this room of unending cruelty.

Valentino carelessly tossed the whip aside, the leather tails slithering across the floor. The girl, unsteady and trembling, found herself roughly hauled upright. She stumbled, her legs weak and wobbly after the brutal assault, and tumbled into Valentino's arms. He offered no comfort, no solace, only a firm grip to keep her from collapsing entirely. With callous disregard, he righted her to a standing position before releasing her, leaving her swaying and sniffling, hot tears streaking down her cheeks.

The girl looked at her reflection in the mirror, her vision blurred by the tracks of mascara. She gasped at the sight of her ravaged flesh, the skin of her once smooth, pert cheeks now a mottled canvas of angry welts and raw, reddened skin. Angry stripes crisscrossed her rear, sure to blossom into vivid bruises in the coming hours.

Valentino returned, silver chain glinting in his hand, two cruel clamps dangling ominously. With a rough yank, he unhooked the clasp of her bra, his fingers deftly slicing through the straps. The garment fluttered to the floor, leaving her breasts bare and vulnerable to his mercy. She gasped as he grasped one soft mound, pinching the sensitive nipple hard between his fingertips. A sharp, pained whimper escaped her lips before he clamped the first cruel device onto her tender nub. "It hurts!" she cried out, voice breaking with agony.

Before she could beg for respite, Valentino's palm cracked across her cheek, silencing her with a stinging slap. Tears sprung fresh to her eyes as he roughly pinched and clamped the other nipple, the silver jaws biting down cruelly. Fire seared through her sensitive peaks as they throbbed and ached, the clamps sending shockwaves of pain radiating outward. Her breasts, once soft and pliant, now felt swollen and inflamed, the clamps weighing heavily as they swung from her chest. She could only sob quietly, shoulders shaking with the effort to hold back further pleas for mercy that she knew would fall on deaf ears.

Valentino lifted the girl effortlessly off her shaky feet, her body still trembling from the onslaught of pain. He sat her down hard on the edge of the bed, the movement sending fresh agonies shooting through her bruised and battered rear. She couldn't hold back a gasp of pain as her tender, abused flesh made contact with the unyielding surface, the welts and bruises throbbing in protest. Her legs, splayed wide by the cruel spreader bar, left her shamefully exposed, her virgin pussy on lewd display in the mirror. The cool air kiss her most intimate place made her flinch, the vulnerability of her position striking fear into her heart. She felt the chain between the clamps on her nipples tug and sway with the movement, the silver links glinting coldly as they bit into the soft flesh of her breasts. Tears blurred her vision as she stared at her reflection, hardly recognizing the broken, used creature looking back at her.

The man produced a riding crop, the leather tip trailing a shivery path up the girl's legs. The cool leather brushed past her calves, her thighs, before the square head settled with cruel precision against the hot, slick folds of her sex. Before she could draw breath to react, to beg or plead, he had yanked the crop away. A single, brutal heartbeat later, the leather struck her most sensitive place with a sharp, stinging crack.

The scream tore from her throat, raw and agonized, as pain exploded through her core. Her body jerked, back arching as much as her bound state would allow, as the searing sting radiated outward from the point of impact. Tears streamed down her face, mascara running in rivulets as her pussy clenched and throbbed, the flesh burning and aching from the vicious blow. The riding crop lay poised, the man's hand steady as he eyed his handiwork, ready to strike.

"STOP!" the girl screamed, voice raw with agony and desperation. "Please... not there," she sobbed, her body shaking as she tried in vain to close her knees, only to find them held ruthlessly apart by the unyielding spreader bar. Valentino paused, not out of mercy, but out of a calculated desire to leave something for his enigmatic employer. He set the cruel crop down on the bed, the leather tip still glistening with her tormented arousal.

His large hand replaced the implement, calloused fingers splaying across her tender, aching flesh. The girl gasped, spine arching as Valentino landed a brutal slap directly on her exposed, throbbing pussy. The sharp sting made her walls clench and quiver, a fresh gush of fearful moisture seeping from her core. Before the pain could fully register, his touch softened, and a finger began to rub slow, deliberate circles over her sensitive clitoris. The dual sensations of pain and pleasure, agony and unwanted ecstasy, made her head spin and her mind reel with confusion. Tears poured down her face as Valentino's fingers worked her over, his touch a cruel mockery of intimacy as he prepared to leave her in a state of desperate, humiliated need for Alastor's twisted mercy.

Valentino's palm struck her tender folds once more, the sharp crack of the slap echoing obscenely in the room. The girl jerked and shuddered, a choked cry escaping her lips as fresh pain lanced through her core. Before she could catch her breath, Valentino's fingers were on her again, rubbing firm circles over her sensitive clitoris. Her hips bucked involuntarily, meeting his touch even as she sobbed from the mix of agony and shameful, building arousal.

He repeated this cruel pattern, alternating between stinging slaps and relentless rubbing, until he felt the slickness of her desire coating his fingers. Her body betrayed her, responding to his ministrations despite the pain and humiliation.

Valentino left the girl trembling and aching, her body betraying its shameful arousal. He returned with a small, black dildo, already slicked up with glistening lube. It was intentionally modest in size, a cruel tease compared to what would soon come.

Before introducing her to the toy, Valentino circled her throbbing clit with deft fingers, drawing gasps and helpless moans from the girl's throat. She shook her head feebly, a weak "No..." escaping her lips. Valentino silenced her with a firm "Shh..." his other hand cupping her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice a low, dark rumble. "You've done so well, my dear. This is the last part, and then you'll have pleased us both." His fingers, slick with her own juices and the cool lube, breached her entrance. Two digits sank into her tight heat, pumping steadily as Valentino's thumb continued its relentless circling of her clit. The girl could only shudder and whimper, her body clenching around the invading fingers, as she braced herself for the final, humiliating intrusion of the toy.

At that moment, the door knob twisted, and the heavy wooden door swung open with a creak. Both Valentino and the girl turned their heads, the girl's eyes widening in shock and disbelief. Standing in the doorway was a tall, imposing figure, the very man she had heard whispers of through the streets, his voice sending shivers down her spine.

"Alastor," she breathed, hardly daring to believe it. But there he stood, the famed radio demon himself, his eyes gleaming with a dark, unsettling light as they raked over her bound and exposed form.

"I'll take it from here, my friend," Alastor spoke, his voice a rich, velvety baritone that seemed to echo with the resonance of an old-time radio announcer. The girl trembled, a mix of fear and an inexplicable, twisted anticipation coiling in her belly at the sound of that legendary voice. Valentino stepped back, surrendering his place at her side, as Alastor strode into the room with a predatory grace that promised her ordeal was far from over.

Chapter Text

Valentino stepped away, pausing the camera's recording with a decisive click. He gathered up the device, casting one last glance at the girl's trembling form before exiting the room. The door closed behind him with a heavy thud, leaving her alone with the man who struck terror into the hearts of all who heard his name whispered on the wind. Alastor.

The girl quaked in fear, knowing the stories of his exploits, the way he had consumed other victims whole. She was at his mercy now, a plaything for his darkest desires. As Valentino left, Alastor stood with his back to her, one hand gripping his chest as if to still the thunderous pounding of his heart. Slowly, he began to grow, to loom larger and more imposing with each passing second.

The girl watched in mounting horror as Alastor's form expanded, his shoulders broadening, his frame stretching until he towered at an intimidating 12 feet tall. When he turned to face her, the girl stifled a scream, her eyes widening in shock and dread at the sight that greeted her. Alastor's eyes had transformed into swirling, obsidian radio dials, the black depths seeming to pull her in, threatening to consume her whole. A trickle of blood, dark and viscous, dripped from the edge of his grinning mouth, a stark reminder of the monster that stood before her.

But the true horror came as Alastor shrugged off his coat, the garment falling away to reveal a visible bulge straining against his tailored trousers. The girl's heart raced, pounding against her ribs as she stared at the evidence of his arousal, a tangible symbol of the depraved acts he intended to inflict upon her helpless body. She could only cower there, bound and exposed, as Alastor drank in the sight of his new plaything, his lips curling into a wicked, anticipatory grin. The radio demon had arrived, and her fate hung in the balance.

Alastor chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent shivers down the girl's spine as he drew closer to the bed. He moved with a predatory grace, his eyes glinting with a sinister light as they roamed over her bound and vulnerable form. "You have no idea, my dear," he began "the effect you've had on me."

He paused by the bed, bending to retrieve her discarded panties from the floor. Alastor brought the delicate fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply. A wicked grin spread across his face as he caught the scent of her fear and reluctant arousal. "My, my, you've soiled these through, haven't you, my sweet?" he purred, his tongue darting out to lick a stray droplet of blood from his lips. He held the panties aloft, a sinful grin playing about his lips as he drank in the sight of her, bound and trembling before him. "Aren't you just the most delectable little morsel?"

Alastor's long, elegant fingers gripped the girl's chin tightly between his thumb and index finger, his touch both thrilling and terrifying. He pried her jaw open with ease, a man of his size and strength needing little effort. Before she could protest, he shoved the soiled panties into her mouth, filling her with the pungent taste of her own fear-induced arousal. She whimpered around the fabric, the flavor of her essence coating her tongue, a bitter reminder of her body's betrayal.

The radio demon's eyes raked over her bound form, taking in every inch of exposed, vulnerable flesh. They lingered on the welts and bruises adorning her skin, the marks of her earlier torment, before settling between her splayed thighs. A low, approving growl rumbled from his chest as he took in the glistening sight of her dripping pussy, already slick and swollen with unwanted desire.

Without warning, Alastor yanked the girl to the edge of the bed, the rough movement sending fresh jolts of pain through her battered body. He lowered himself to his knees before her, his towering form now eye-level with her most intimate area. The girl trembled as he leaned in close, his breath hot and heavy against her sensitive folds. Then, with a wicked grin, he buried his nose between her thighs, inhaling her scent deeply, savoring the musky aroma of her fear and arousal.

A shuddering gasp escaped the girl's panty-stuffed mouth as Alastor's tongue, long and dexterous, took a slow, deliberate swipe from the bottom of her slit up to the throbbing bud of her clit. The wet, rough texture sent lightning bolts of sensation crashing through her, pleasure and humiliation warring within her as the radio demon's mouth claimed her most private place.

Alastor leaned back, spreading the girl's glistening folds wide open with his long, deft fingers. He drank in the sight of her dripping, swollen flesh, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Look here," he purred, his voice a low, velvet rumble. "Your pretty little cunt is positively throbbing, just begging to be claimed and bred, isn't it my dear?"

Without waiting for a response, Alastor dove back in, his mouth latching onto her most intimate area with a hunger that made the girl cry out around the fabric gag. His tongue probed and suckled at her folds, the slick, muscular organ sending shockwaves of pleasure shooting through her trembling body. He lapped at her like a man starved, as if he intended to consume her very essence, to drink down every last drop of her reluctant arousal. Alastor seemed determined to push her to the brink, to make her scream and beg as he worked her into a frenzy of unwanted ecstasy.

He brought the girl to the very precipice, his skilled mouth and tongue pushing her to the brink of a shameful climax. Just as her body began to tense, her walls clenching and fluttering around his probing tongue, he cruelly withdrew. The sudden absence of his touch left her hovering on the edge, a desperate, needy whimper escaping her around the panties stuffed in her mouth.

Rising to his full, imposing height, Alastor's large hand made its way to her breast, fingers prodding and kneading the tender, sore flesh. "Allow me to relieve you," he murmured, his voice a dark, seductive purr. With a deft twist, he removed the cruel clamps, the relief of blood flow rushing back to her abused nipples sending a wave of tingling sensation through her chest.

But the respite was short-lived. Before she could fully savor the relief, Alastor forced his massive frame over her, pinning her down onto the bed. The air was forced from her lungs as he loomed above, his eyes glinting with a primal, possessive light. Then, with a low, approving growl, he lowered his head and sank his teeth into the soft flesh of her shoulder.

She cried out, the pain sharp and sudden, as Alastor marked her as his own. His bite was hard enough to leave an imprint of his teeth, a vivid mark blooming on her skin like a badge of his claim. The radio demon seemed intent on leaving no doubt as to who she belonged to now, his mark a tangible symbol of her new fate.

Alastor's hand went to the waistband of his trousers, deftly unbuckling the confines. He groaned in pleasure as he pulled out his massive, throbbing length, the thick shaft pulsing with barely contained desire. The girl's eyes widened in abject fear as she took in the sheer size of him, her mind reeling at the thought of such a monstrous thing fitting inside her delicate, virgin body.

Alastor noticed her terrified expression, the way her breath hitched in her throat and her eyes grew wide with dread. With a smirk, he reached up and plucked the makeshift gag from her mouth, allowing her to catch her breath. His palm cupped her cheek, thumb brushing over her lower lip as he leaned in close, his voice a low, rumbling purr.

"There, there, my sweet little doe," he cooed, as if soothing a skittish deer. "Don't fret so, my dear. My magnificent prick will breed you so very full, pumping you ripe with my potent seed. You'll make a fine little mother for my bastard, once I've split you open on my cock." His eyes gleamed with wicked promise, the threat of his words sending a shiver down her spine.

The girl's head spun, a wave of dizziness and dread washing over her at Alastor's lewd words. His promise of breeding her, of splitting her open on his massive cock, filled her with a primal, visceral fear. She felt her vision swimming, the room tilting and blurring as the reality of her situation crashed down upon her. With a soft, shuddering gasp, she collapsed back against the bed, her body going limp as the blood drained from her head.

Alastor laughed, a deep, rumbling chuckle that seemed to echo through her very bones. "Oh dear," he purred, his voice dripping with mock concern, "you precious, fragile little thing. Fainting already? We've barely even begun our dance, my sweet." He smirked down at her, eyes glinting with cruel amusement and dark anticipation. "Don't worry, pet. I'll give you strength... in my own special way." His hand slid down her neck, fingers wrapping around her throat, squeezing just hard enough to make her gasp and flutter her eyelids. "Now, let's see about getting that tight little cunt of yours ready to milk my cock, shall we?"

Alastor closed the distance between them, his imposing frame looming over her. He captured her lips in a searing, ravenous kiss, his mouth claiming hers with a hunger that stole her breath away. His tongue delved deep, exploring the warm cavern of her mouth, tangling with her own as he plundered her ruthlessly. Trailing kisses along her jaw and down the column of her throat, Alastor left a path of fire in his wake, his lips and teeth grazing her sensitive skin.

As his mouth worked to ignite her body with reluctant desire, Alastor's hand went to the aching, throbbing bud at the apex of her thighs. His calloused fingers circled her clit, rubbing the sensitive nub with a skill that made her hips buck involuntarily. Before she could catch her breath, a large, clawed finger pushed past her entrance, sinking deep into her tight, virgin heat. He pumped the digit in and out, stretching her, preparing her for the massive cock that awaited her. His thumb continued its relentless rubbing of her clit as he fingered her, stoking the flames of pleasure that threatened to consume her utterly.

Alastor's fingers pistoned in and out of her tight, virgin passage, the dual stimulation of his thumb rubbing her clit and his fingers plunging deep driving her towards a cresting wave of unwanted ecstasy. "That's it, my dear," he growled, feeling her walls flutter and clench around his invading digits. "Don't fight it. Let the pleasure take you."

Just as she teetered on the brink of climax, Alastor abruptly withdrew his fingers, leaving her desperate and aching. He pulled back, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he could no longer hold himself in check. Rising to his full height, his massive, throbbing cock jutted out, the engorged head dripping with anticipation.

The girl stared in abject terror as Alastor tapped the massive, pulsing length against her entrance. The sheer size of him, the scorching heat radiating from his shaft, filled her with a primal, bone-deep dread. She could feel the cool air on her overheated flesh as he brushed his cock against her, the difference in their sizes making her whimper.

"Please," she begged, voice trembling with fear and trepidation. "You're so big. It won't fit. You can't..." Her words trailed off into a frightened squeak as the antlers atop Alastor's head began to grow, stretching and lengthening into a fearsome crown.

Alastor chuckled darkly at her plea, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Oh, but I can, my sweet little morsel," he purred, voice dripping with cruel promise. "And I will. I'm going to tear you open on my cock and pump you full of my seed. You'll be screaming my name as I claim this tight cunt as my own." With a wicked grin, he notched the swollen head of his cock against her entrance, the bulbous tip kissing her folds as he prepared to hilting himself inside her, consequences be damned. "Now, let's see if this pretty little pussy can stretch to take my cock like a good girl."

With a single, powerful thrust, Alastor breached her entrance, the girl's opening stretching wide to accommodate the massive intrusion. A scream tore from her throat, raw and agonized, as searing pain ripped through her core. It felt as if she were being torn asunder, her untouched walls straining to the limit to accept his enormous girth. Tears streamed down her face as Alastor snarled in dark pleasure, relishing the exquisite tightness engulfing his throbbing shaft.

Gripping her thighs, he yanked them back and pushed them up against her chest, nearly bending her in half. This new angle allowed him to surge forward, driving his massive cock deeper into her unwilling body. The girl howled, back arching off the bed as Alastor's hips slammed against hers, his heavy balls slapping obscenely against her upturned bottom.

"Take it, my little hussy," Alastor growled, voice rough with lust and triumph. "Take every fucking inch of my cock. This cunt belongs to me now." He punctuated his words with sharp, brutal thrusts, each one striking a new depth within her. The pain was blinding, the stretch almost more than she could bear, but Alastor showed no mercy, pounding into her with single-minded determination to claim her utterly.

The girl could barely form a coherent thought, let alone a coherent word, as Alastor's massive length destroyed her, stretching her far beyond what she ever thought possible. She could feel every throbbing inch of him pulsing inside her, the sheer size of him making her feel split in two. It was as if he were not just in her pussy, but in her belly, rearranging her insides to fit his enormous cock.

As Alastor continued to pound into her, his hips smacking against her upturned bottom, he paused, noticing her ashen face and the fact that she had been holding her breath for far too long. "Breathe, my dear," he reminded her, his voice a low, commanding rumble. “You’re practically turning blue aha!” He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust, driving himself in to the hilt, the head of his cock kissing her cervix. The girl gasped, lungs burning as she finally inhaled, desperately needing the air to withstand the brutal fucking she was receiving.

After what felt like an endless onslaught, Alastor's movements became more erratic, his groans of pleasure growing louder and more frequent. The girl could feel the telltale twitching of his cock inside her, signaling his impending release. Just as she thought she could not take anymore, Alastor reached down, his fingers finding her sensitive clit.

"I'm going to release, sweetheart," he grunted, voice strained with the effort of holding back his climax. "Cum with me, now!" His thumb circled the throbbing nub, the added stimulation pushing her towards a reluctant, pain-filled peak as he prepared to flood her womb with his seed.

With a feral yell, Alastor let out a guttural snarl of pure, animalistic pleasure. "Cumming! Take it!" he roared, his voice echoing off the walls as he reached his explosive peak. The girl felt herself being pushed ruthlessly over the edge, her body betraying her as a shrill, desperate cry tore from her throat. Her inner walls clenched and fluttered wildly around Alastor's throbbing length, milking him for all he was worth as she came with a violent, wrenching orgasm.

At the same moment, Alastor's cock jerked and pulsed inside her, hot liquid gushing from his shaft in thick, potent spurts. He flooded her womb with his seed, pumping her full to the brim as he marked her as his own. The sensation of his scalding release filling her, claiming her so completely, only heightened the girl's unwanted climax, her body shaking and convulsing beneath him as he emptied himself deep inside her.

Alastor remained hilted inside the girl for a few intense seconds, savoring the feeling of her tight, spasming walls milking the last drops of his release. He could feel his seed, hot and thick, beginning to seep out around his still-twitching cock. With a low, satisfied grunt, he withdrew his length from her abused hole, watching in dark satisfaction as a trickle of his essence leaked out, dripping down onto the sheets alongside a crimson stream of her blood.

The girl lay limp and unresponsive, her body wracked with shuddering sobs as the overstimulation of her forced orgasm slowly subsided. She could only hiccup and weep quietly, mind blank and senses overwhelmed, as Alastor moved about the room.

He rummaged through the scattered items on the table, knocking over various objects in his post-coital haze. Still breathing heavily, the animalistic instinct lingering in his eyes, Alastor's gaze fell upon a plug. A wicked grin spread across his face as he snatched it up, the implement satisfying his desire for control.

Turning back to the girl, he pushed her limp legs further apart, exposing her dripping, used hole to his hungry gaze. With a low huff, he pressed the plug against her entrance, watching as her tender flesh stretched to accommodate the new intrusion. He pushed it in deep, plugging up the flow of his seed and ensuring it would take root inside her womb.

"There, that should do it," Alastor declared with a nod of satisfaction. He leaned back, taking in the sight of the girl's broken, used body as she lay frozen and unresponsive, hiccuping through quiet sobs. The radio demon was well pleased with his new plaything and the thorough claiming he had just subjected her to.

As the intense moment passed, Alastor's body returned to its usual, imposing yet usual size. He rose from the bed, leaving the girl's broken form behind as he began to redress himself. Alastor tucked his softening length back into his trousers, adjusting himself in the mirror with a satisfied smirk. He took a moment to admire his handiwork, the sight of the girl's ravaged body a testament to his virility and dominance.

Turning back to the girl, Alastor leaned down, placing a surprisingly gentle kiss upon her forehead. His large hand rubbed her arm soothingly, a bizarre gesture of affection from the man who had just so brutally claimed her. "You'll be mine soon enough, don't fret my dear," he murmured, voice low and reassuring despite the sinister undertone. "This is only the beginning of our dance."

With a final, dark declaration, Alastor straightened up, his form beginning to melt into the shadows. "Until we meet again, my sweet little morsel." His voice echoed, fading into the gloom as he dissolved into the floor, leaving the girl alone with her thoughts and the aches of her ravaged body. She lay there, staring up at the ceiling, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as the reality of her new fate sank in.

Tears streamed down her face, silent sobs wracking her frame as the misery of her situation crashed down upon her. As her vision began to fade, darkness creeping in at the edges, she felt strong arms lift her broken body from the bed.

"Poor baby," a voice whispered, the unknown speaker's tone laced with a mix of sympathy and dark satisfaction.

Chapter Text

The hotel residents were gathered in the lavish reception area, the air filled with the chatter and clinking of glasses as they mingled. Cherri revelled at the latest rumor circulating amongst the streets of hell.

"Holy shit, Angel! Have you heard? Val's really done it this time," Cherri exclaimed, her eye wide with scandalized delight.

The actor, lounging nearby with a fruity cocktail in hand, rolled his eyes. "Oh, he's grabbed a girl off the streets and sold her to some horny bastard, you say?" He took another swig of his drink, unfazed. "Sounds like a typical Tuesday for Val, to be honest."

Charlie, being the kind-hearted individual she was, frowned with concern. "That's terrible! Is she going to be okay? If you ever see her Angel, please tell her she's always welcome to come stay here at the hotel," Charlie said earnestly.

The star shook his head, setting his glass down on the ornate side table. "Can't happen, toots. Val's souls have to stay at the studio, I'm practically the only exception. It's in the contract they sign."

Charlie sighed, her heart aching for the unknown girl. "I just wish there was something I could do to help her..."

Lucifer, overhearing the conversation, scoffed at his daughter's naivety. "Oh Charlie, my sweet summer child, everyone's in it for something. If that girl sold her soul, she likely had her own reasons and gains in mind. Not all is as altruistic as your bleeding heart would have you believe." He smirked, taking a swing of his glass of champagne.

"I'd hate to admit it, but I agree with your father. Some souls are simply beyond saving, or perhaps, beyond the need for saving." Alastor spoke from the entrance, drawing the attention of the hotels residents.

Vaggie scowled at the late arrival of their esteemed host. She planted her hands on her ample hips, her eyes flashing with annoyance. "And where the hell have you been, Alastor? You've been gone for two days, and we're meant to be hosting the biggest event of the season! I swear, if you've messed this up, I'll personally shove that fancy cane of yours where the sun don't shine." Vaggie's voice rose with each word, her patience wearing thinner by the second. The other guests shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether to be scandalized or amused by the heated exchange.

Alastor held up a hand, silencing Vaggie's tirade with a sharp gesture. "Oh, calm yourself," he chastised, his voice dripping with condescension. "In my absence, I have prepared... arrangements." With a snap of his fingers, the shadows in the grand foyer seemed to come alive, and out stepped a dozen or so figures.

Immediately, the souls sprang into action, their movements precise and synchronized. Some began to hang shimmering gold banners from the ornate chandeliers, while others set about arranging elaborate floral displays in the grand foyer. The air was filled with the sound of clinking glasses and the rustling of fine fabrics as Alastor's minions transformed the hotel into a glittering paradise, all under their dark master's watchful gaze.

Vaggie's scowl softened slightly as she took in the swift progress of the decorations. "Well, I suppose this is... adequate," she grumbled, trying to maintain her stern demeanor even as her eyes widened at the opulent scene unfolding before her. The other guests murmured in impressed awe, their earlier complaints forgotten in the face of such a lavish display.

Alastor smirked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he surveyed the fruits of his labor. "I'm glad you approve," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a matter to attend to." With that, he turned and strode towards the elevators.

Lucifer's eyes narrowed as he noticed a crimson stain on the back of Alastor's otherwise impeccable trousers. He let out a low, rumbling chuckle, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Wait a moment, Alastor," he called out, his voice cutting through the bustling activity in the foyer. "Did you get your period?" Lucifer's tone was laced with mocking amusement as he gestured towards the bloodstain.

Alastor's head swiveled around like an owl's, his gaze locking onto the devil with a mix of annoyance and irritation. "How observant of you, my lord," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I had thought the state of my attire rather beneath your notice."

Charlie, ever the compassionate soul, pushed past her father, her brow furrowed with concern. "Al, are you okay? Are you bleeding from somewhere?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.

Alastor waved away her concern with a dismissive hand, his grin tightening. "A mere stain from my trip to cannibal town, you know how utterly undignified some of those savages can be with their eating manners," he said, his tone filled with annoyance at the mere memory. "Now, if you'll excuse me." With that, he turned back towards the elevators, leaving the residents to their own devices.

—————————————————————————

The girl stirred from her fitful slumber, her head pounding like a drum as she slowly opened her eyes. She found herself in a sterile, white room, the antiseptic scent of disinfectant assaulting her nostrils. A thin IV tube snaked from her arm, connected to a drip bag hanging beside the bed. Panic began to rise in her chest as the events of the night crashed back into her, leaving her feeling violated and used.

Before she could fully succumb to her rising hysteria, a gentle hand caressed her cheek, startling her back to the present. The girl turned her head to see Valentino sitting beside her bed, his eyes filled with a mocking concern that made her skin crawl.

"Ah, bonita, did you get some good rest, hm?" he asked, his voice dripping with false sympathy. The girl winced as he casually mentioned the brutal assault she had endured. "Alastor certainly tore through your vagina, didn't he? Should have regenerated by now, yes?"

The girl shook her head weakly, her regenerative abilities proving far slower than the other denizens of Hell. She could still feel the ache of the brutal violation, her body struggling to heal from the devastating damage inflicted upon it.

Valentino hummed thoughtfully, a look of disappointment crossing his handsome features. "Well, it seems you're of no use to me then," he sighed, standing up from his chair beside her bed. The girl watched him warily, fearing what his next words might be. "It's a shame, that clip we made together did bring in quite a bit of money, but keeping you here in this chic room is proving to be rather expensive."

The girl's heart raced as she realized the gravity of her situation. She reached out a trembling hand, grasping for any hope. "Wait!" she yelped, desperation coloring her voice. "Can't I do... less extreme work?" She held her breath, praying that Valentino might show mercy, might give her a chance to prove her worth beyond being a plaything for the depraved desires of Hell's denizens.

Valentino let out a harsh, barking laugh at the girl's desperate plea. He looked down at her, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement as he shook his head. "No, mi amor. That's all you're good for," he said, his tone making it clear that he saw no value in her beyond her ability to satisfy the twisted whims of those in power.

He turned to leave, intent on transferring her soul to Alastor's keeping. The girl's heart raced as she realized the dire situation she found herself in. Being passed from one monster to another, her fate sealed to a life of endless torment and abuse.

With a final, mocking pat on her cheek, Valentino headed for the door. "I'll have the paperwork drawn up and your soul transferred to Alastor. Congratulations, you're officially his problem now," he called over his shoulder, his voice dripping with false congratulations.

—————————————————————————

Alastor was in the midst of setting up for his next radio broadcast, the flickering lights of the studio casting an eerie glow across his chiseled features. The clatter of equipment and the crackle of static filled the air as he made final adjustments, his eyes glinting with a manic intensity.

Just as he was about to begin, a sudden knock at the door startled him from his reverie. Alastor's lips curled into a sneer “come in” The door creaked open, revealing a timid imp, its small form nearly trembling as it approached the radio demon with trepidation.

"My lord," the imp stammered, its voice barely above a whisper. "I have a letter for you, sir." The creature held out a pink envelope, its hand shaking as it extended it towards the formidable demon.

Alastor snatched the letter from the imp's grasp, his eyes narrowing as he took in the unmistakable shade of pink, a clear indication of its sender. Valentino's signature color was as much a mark of his vanity as it was a declaration of his twisted sense of style.

"Thank you..." Alastor growled, his voice a low, threatening rumble. The imp's eyes widened in fear, and it took a tentative step back, as if sensing the impending storm. "Now run along," Alastor commanded, a flash of terror crossing his face. The imp needed no further encouragement, scurrying out of the room with unnatural speed, eager to put as much distance as possible between itself and the volatile demon.

Alastor unfolded the letter, his eyes narrowing as he read Valentino's haughty script.

"Dear friend,

I am writing to inform you that I shall be transferring the soul of that darling girl, the one you so thoroughly defiled, into your keeping. I'm afraid she has proven quite...unremarkable, and thus, utterly useless to me.

Pleasure doing business with you,

Valentino”

Alastor's lips curled into a smug smirk as he read Valentino's words, a wicked gleam appearing in his eyes. Things were falling neatly into place. This newfound power over her would ensure she remained his obedient plaything, never daring to utter a word of the depraved torment he subjected her to.

Additionally, by "liberating" her from Valentino's clutches, Alastor would no doubt be seen as a benevolent saviour in Charlie's eyes. This newfound trust and goodwill could prove invaluable in Alastor's ongoing schemes.

With a dark chuckle he set the letter ablaze between his fingers.

—————————————————————————

The girl remained on the infirmary bed, her mind racing with dread as she contemplated the bleak future that awaited her. She was a broken toy, cast aside by one monster only to be claimed by another. Tears streamed down her face as despair gripped her heart, squeezing the air from her lungs.

Suddenly, the shadows in the room began to morph and shift, dark tendrils snaking across the sterile walls. The girl's breath hitched in her throat as she realized she was once again in the presence of the terrifying radio demon, Alastor. This time, however, she was too depleted, too shattered to even muster a scream.

As Alastor approached her bedside, the girl could only shake her head from side to side, a silent denial of the horrors that were surely to come. She squeezed her eyes shut, hot tears spilling down her cheeks as she trembled like a leaf in the wind.

"Oh, my darling," Alastor cooed, his voice dripping with false sympathy as he drew near. He moved with the predatory grace of a tiger stalking its prey, each step measured and deliberate. The girl could feel the heat of his presence, the dark power that radiated from his form like a palpable aura.

To her shock, the girl found herself unable to speak, her voice lodged in her throat as she stared up at the imposing demon. Alastor's eyes, those piercing, hypnotic orbs that seemed to see straight into her very soul, gazed down at her with a mixture of amusement and cruel compassion.

"I'm not going to hurt you, my precious pearl," Alastor murmured, his tone low and soothing, like a serpent's hiss. The girl shuddered, unsure whether to believe him or not. After all, this demon had already shown her the depths of his cruelty, had violated and defiled her in the most intimate of ways.

And yet, as she gazed up at him, the girl felt a strange sense of comfort in his presence, a twisted sense of safety that she knew could easily be shattered at any moment. She was trapped, a prisoner of her own shattered mind and the dark desires of those who sought to control her.

The girl could only hope that Alastor would be different, that perhaps he would show her a shred of mercy in the face of her utter despair.

Alastor sat casually in the chair beside the girl's bed, his posture relaxed yet still commanding an aura of dark power. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he studied her tear-stained face with a critical eye.

"You didn't know what we had planned together, my dear?" Alastor questioned, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very air. The girl could only shake her head, unable to meet the demon's piercing gaze as she stared up at the sterile ceiling instead.

A flicker of confusion crossed Alastor's chiseled features as he continued, "I had assumed Valentino would have filled you in on the details, given the...intimate nature of our little encounter." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.

The girl's lip trembled violently as she struggled to find her voice. "N-no," she managed to choke out, shaking her head in fervent denial. “I’ve never done anything like this before. He told me we’d have fun together and do a bit of BDSM but…i’ve never…I didn’t know” Her words dissolved into a choked sob, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

Alastor's brow furrowed, a look of consternation on his face as he listened to the girl's desperate confession. "You're not a porn star?" he asked, a hint of disbelief coloring his tone. "But surely you must have realized that the...reactions, the pain you expressed, they were all a part of the act?" He leaned in closer, studying her face intently.

The girl shook her head vehemently, fresh tears spilling down her face. "N-no," she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper. "It...it wasn't an act. It was real, all of it was real. I had no idea you would...that it would be like that." She shuddered, the memory of the brutal violation still fresh in her mind.

Alastor leaned back in the chair, a look of genuine confusion and disbelief on his handsome face as he listened to the girl's tearful confession. He shook his head, as if trying to make sense of her words, before looking away with a heavy sigh.

"My word...you didn't agree to any of that?" Alastor murmured, his voice laced with a hint of incredulity. "But that simply cannot be the case, my dear." He paused, his gaze still averted as if lost in thought for a moment before turning back to face her, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and something else, something that almost resembled sincerity.

"Please, tell me that you wanted it," Alastor coaxed, his deep baritone gently urging her to confess the truth he so desperately wanted to hear. "Tell me that you weren't cruelly misled by that charlatan Valentino." His brows furrowed, a look of genuine distress on his chiseled features as he awaited her response.

The girl's voice trembled as she recounted Valentino's cruel words, the memory of his deceit fresh in her mind. She gazed up at Alastor, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears and desperate for any shred of compassion from the demon.

"He...he told me there was no safe word, no way to make it stop," she whispered, her words catching in her throat. "He said I could only beg and scream and cry because...because you would like it." The girl's lip quivered, a single tear rolling down her cheek as she awaited Alastor's reaction to this revelation.

"So that blackguard took advantage of your innocence and naivety," Alastor growled, his voice low and menacing. "He lied to you, manipulated you, and forced you into a situation you were not prepared for, all for his own twisted amusement." The demon shook his head, a look of regret and sympathy in his eyes as he reached out to gently take the girl's hand in his own.

"Please forgive me, my dear," Alastor murmured, his thumb gently caressing her knuckles. "I had no idea that Valentino had deceived you so cruelly. You have been through a terrible ordeal, and I am truly sorry that you were subjected to such pain and fear." He squeezed her hand gently, a silent promise of protection and support.

"From now on, I vow to be honest with you, to never deceive you as he did," Alastor declared, his voice filled with a sincerity that made the girl want to believe him. "Together, we will find a way to heal from this trauma and build a new life, one where you are cherished and respected." The demon's eyes shone with a warmth that made the girl feel a flicker of hope, a glimmer of trust in the midst of her despair.

“Will you free my soul?” She asked.

Alastor's thumb continued its gentle caress of the girl's hand, the intimate gesture a stark contrast to the cold, hard truth of his next words. He gazed into her tearful eyes, his own dark orbs filled with a mix of sympathy and unyielding resolve.

"Oh, my sweet girl," Alastor murmured, his voice low and filled with a false tenderness. "I simply cannot allow you to be freed, not when your soul is now so deeply entwined with mine." His grip on her hand tightened slightly, a silent warning and reminder of his power over her.

The girl's heart raced, a flicker of hope dying in her chest as she realized the true nature of her newfound predicament. Alastor continued, his tone shifting to one of stern warning.

"You see, with your soul now in my ownership, I have the ability to offer you protection and power beyond your wildest dreams. As my charge, I can shield you from the worst of Hell's cruelties, guide you to greatness and glory." His eyes glinted with a promise of dark rewards, a tempting allure for a soul so battered and lost.

Alastor paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over the girl's ear as he whispered his next words. "However, there is another matter we must discuss, my dear. The events of that fateful night, the...indiscretions that transpired, they must remain a secret between us." His voice dropped to a low, ominous rumble, sending a shiver down the girl's spine.

"If you were to speak of what happened, to utter a single word of our intimate encounter, there would be consequences far beyond your comprehension," Alastor warned, his grip on her hand tightening almost painfully. "This soul binding, this sacred pact between us, demands silence and discretion. If you break this vow, if you allow even a whisper of the truth to escape your lips, your soul will be destroyed. Do you understand, petal?" His eyes bored into hers, a dark and unyielding force that demanded her compliance.

The girl nodded slowly, a glimmer of desperate hope shining in her tear-filled eyes. Alastor's remorseful words and promise of protection seemed like a lifeline in the stormy sea of her despair. She knew she had little choice but to trust in his offer, to cling to the faint hope that he could shield her from further torment.

Alastor's grin widened, a triumphant and almost affectionate curve of his lips as he witnessed her silent agreement. He held out his hand to her, a silent invitation and a tangible symbol of the dark pact they were about to forge.

"This handshake will finalize our deal, my dear," Alastor declared, his voice filled with a newfound warmth and enthusiasm. "I will grant you the gift of enhanced regenerative powers, allowing your body to heal with a speed and strength you never thought possible. You will be imbued with the power to fend off anyone who dares to threaten you, to stand tall against the trials and tribulations that Hell may throw your way."

The demon's eyes gleamed with the promise of newfound might and resilience, a tempting offer for a soul so battered and weary. Alastor paused, allowing the girl a moment to absorb the incredible boons he was bestowing upon her.

"In return," he continued, his tone shifting to one of gentle but firm expectation, "you must vow to keep our secret, our intimate encounter locked away in the depths of your mind, never to be spoken of aloud. Discretion and silence will be your watchwords, a sacred vow between us."

Alastor's grip on her hand tightened, a silent demand for her obedience and fealty. "And finally, you must promise to be obedient, to follow my guidance and commands without hesitation or question. Your soul belongs to me now, and with that ownership comes the expectation of complete devotion."

The demon's eyes bored into the girl's, a dark and unyielding force that seemed to peer into the very depths of her psyche. "So, do we have a deal, my dear?" Alastor asked, his voice a low and seductive rumble that promised power, protection, and a new beginning for the shattered girl.

As the girl's small, delicate hand enveloped Alastor's large, powerful one, a sudden surge of green energy erupted between them. The infirmary room filled with an ethereal, emerald glow that seemed to seep into every corner, banishing the sterile cold and replacing it with a warm, pulsing light.

Voodoo symbols, ancient and arcane, materialized out of the shimmering green haze. They swirled and danced around the entwined hands of the demon and his new charge, their shapes etched in the air like glowing, ghostly tattoos. The symbols pulsed with a life of their own, a tangible manifestation of the dark pact being forged.

Alastor's grin widened, stretching into a grotesque, manic smile as he felt the girl's hand trembling in his grasp. His eyes, those piercing orbs that had once filled her with such dread, now glowed with an otherworldly green light. The irises seemed to melt and shift, transforming into twin green radio dials that spun and whirred with a hypnotic, mesmerizing energy.

The girl gasped as she felt a sudden, overwhelming surge of strength and vitality coursing through her veins. It was as if every cell in her battered body had come alive, repairing and healing at a speed she never thought possible. The aches and pains that had plagued her, the lingering agony of her brutal violation, all melted away in an instant.

She marveled at the sudden ease with which she could now move her limbs, the way her muscles twitched with a newfound power and energy. It was as if Alastor's touch had unleashed something primal and ancient within her, a hidden wellspring of strength and resilience waiting to be tapped.

As the green glow began to fade, the voodoo symbols dissolving into the air like mist beneath the morning sun, Alastor tightened his grip on the girl's hand. His eyes, no longer glowing with eldritch light, now shone with a newfound warmth and approval.

"Welcome to your new life, my dear," Alastor purred, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "With this handshake, you have sealed your fate and bound your soul to mine. Together, we shall face whatever trials and temptations Hell may throw our way, and you shall emerge stronger than ever before."

Chapter Text

Alastor strode into the lavish hotel reception, his tall, imposing form cutting an impressive figure as he emerged from the shadows. The demon's hand remained clasped tightly around the girl's, a silent declaration of his newfound claim over her soul.

As they entered the grand foyer, all heads turned to face the striking pair. Conversations hushed and eyes widened in curiosity and surprise at the sight of the unfamiliar girl on Alastor's arm.

Charlie, ever the eager and enthusiastic owner, let out a delighted gasp. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with genuine warmth and welcome. "Alastor, is this one of your friends? Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, I'm Charlie!"

The girl glanced up at Alastor, a look of uncertainty and hesitation flashing across her face. She was still getting used to the idea of being under the demon's protection, still grappling with the whirlwind of events that had led her here.

Sensing her discomfort, Alastor stepped in to assist, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "Allow me to introduce you, my dear," he said, his tone filled with a gentle authority. "I discovered this poor soul wandering aimlessly and lost through the streets of Hell. In her time of need, I offered her a chance at redemption, a new beginning here at the Hazbin Hotel."

Cherri’s singular eye narrowed as she scrutinized the girl, her gaze sharp and appraising. Suddenly, recognition dawned on her face, and she let out a shocked gasp. "Holy shit, smiles! Is that the girl from the new torture porno Valentino released?" the woman exclaimed, her voice ringing out across the reception area.

Angel, who had been lounging on one of the plush couches, leapt to his feet. He shook his head in disbelief, a look of consternation etched on his handsome face. "Hang on now," he said, his voice filled with a mix of confusion and outrage. "This isn't right. If she’s in Valentino's ownership, she shouldn't be here. Fuck, Alastor, you've gotta take her back!"

Alastor, however, simply waved off the star’s concerns with a dismissive flick of his wrist. He flashed the other demon a charming grin, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, calm down, Angel," Alastor chuckled, his tone filled with a lazy amusement. "I convinced Valentino to transfer her soul ownership to me. It's all above board, I assure you."

Vaggie stepped forward, her eyes blazing with barely contained rage as she confronted Alastor. "You took advantage of her being in such a vulnerable position? What kind of deal did you make her agree to?" Vaggie demanded, her voice shaking with anger and concern for the girl.

The girl herself struggled to find her voice, to articulate the complex web of emotions and circumstances that had led her here. "I-I'm, it's not-" she stammered, her words failing her as she found herself caught in the middle of this heated exchange.

Alastor, however, would not allow the girl to be overwhelmed. With a swift, sharp motion, he poked Vaggie in the chest with his staff, putting a physical barrier between the angry demon and the girl under his protection. "In exchange for her soul, I offered her power, strength, and protection," Alastor stated, his tone filled with a calm authority. "Not every soul in my ownership is doomed to eternal torture. I like to think of myself as her guardian, her advocate in this treacherous realm."

Alastor continued, "not to mention the substantial sum I had to pay to free her from Valentino's greedy clutches," he added, a note of bitter amusement coloring his tone. "That leech would have never released her otherwise, not without a hefty price."

Charlie stepped forward, placing her hands gently on Vaggie's shoulders. She gazed at her girlfriend with a reassuring smile, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "It's okay, Vaggie. I know this seems sudden, but you have to trust that Alastor did the right thing. She's safer here at the Hazbin Hotel, under his protection and ours, way more than she ever would have been with Valentino."

The owner then turned her attention to Alastor, a look of gratitude and determination on her face. "You did the right thing, Alastor," Charlie declared, her voice filled with conviction. "I will make sure the hotel funds reimburse you for the money you spent to free her. After all, our funds are meant to support and protect our guests, and that includes ensuring their safety and well-being."

Vaggie, however, was not so easily appeased. She crossed her arms, her brow furrowed in disbelief as she stared at her girlfriend. "Charlie! There's no way you can just-"

But Alastor cut her off with a sharp laugh, switching his staff from one hand to the other. "500,000," he revealed, a note of casual dismissal in his voice. "A small price to pay for a life freed from that blackguard's clutches."

Lucifer, having been engrossed in his coffee, nearly choked when he heard the exorbitant amount Alastor had paid to free the girl. He sputtered and spat out a mouthful of the bitter brew, shaking his head in disbelief. "Haha! No, no, no, Charlie!" the devil exclaimed, wagging a finger at his daughter. "You are NOT reimbursing that ridiculous sum. That's just throwing money away!"

The girl whipped her head around to stare at Alastor, her eyes wide with shock and a growing sense of disbelief. Had he really paid Valentino such a hefty price, upwards of half a million, just to secure her freedom? The thought left her utterly flabbergasted and deeply touched, though she couldn't help but feel that the amount was far too much, more than she could ever deserve.

Charlie turned to her father, a look of exasperation on her face as she threw up her hands. "But dad!" she whined, her voice rising in pitch. "I'm running a business here! I have to invest in my guests if I want to see a return on my investment. Their safety and well-being is paramount to the success of the Hazbin Hotel."

She stepped closer to Lucifer, her eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and determination. "Think about it, dad. If word gets out that we let one of our guests suffer under the ownership of a monster like Valentino, no one will want to stay here. We have to show that we're committed to protecting our guests, no matter the cost."

Charlie's gaze flicked back to the girl, a look of fierce protectiveness in her eyes. "She's one of us now, dad. Part of the Hazbin family. And we take care of our own."

Lucifer's frown deepened as he caught the pleading, puppy-dog eyes his daughter Charlie was giving him. He sighed, feeling the weight of his daughter's expectations heavy on his shoulders. "Charlie, sweetie..." he began, his voice a low rumble tinged with a hint of exasperation.

The devil paused, considering his next words carefully. "You know that money isn't an issue for me, but..." His gaze drifted to Alastor, who was in the process of melting away into the shadows with his new charge. "Don't you think Alastor could stand to learn a thing or two about financial responsibility? I seem to recall a certain someone giving a very impassioned lesson on the subject not too long ago." Lucifer raised an eyebrow, a note of gentle teasing in his tone as he looked at his daughter. "Perhaps you should take your own advice and set a good example, hmm?"

Alastor's eyes narrowed, a flash of annoyance sparking in their depths at Lucifer’s suggestion. The very idea of sitting through one of Charlie's interminable financial responsibility seminars filled him with a deep, gnawing dread. He was a demon of Hell, not some mere mortal who needed to be lectured on the finer points of fiscal prudence.

"Hmmm..." Charlie mused, a thoughtful expression on her face as she considered her own words. Suddenly, her eyes lit up with a newfound enthusiasm, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Ooh, I've got it!" she exclaimed, turning to Alastor with a look of eager anticipation. "Okay Alastor, you can earn the reimbursement through work! You've been...a little absent lately, either holed up in your room or about outside the hotel. So you can earn the money back by completing enough jobs around the hotel to my satisfaction!"

Alastor grunted, a sound of grudging acquiescence as he realized that, much as it pained him to admit it, he did indeed need the funds reimbursed. "Fine," he growled, the single word dripping with a reluctance that spoke volumes of his true feelings on the matter.

Lucifer leaned back against the reception desk, a look of deep satisfaction etched across his face. He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and approval at the way Alastor had agreed to Charlie's terms, even if the demon himself seemed less than thrilled about the prospect of earning his reimbursement through menial labor.

Charlie, meanwhile, rubbed her hands together in a gesture of eager anticipation. She turned to Alastor, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and expectation. "First job!" she declared, her voice ringing out with a note of authority. "Introduce our new guest to her room. Make sure it has been prepared and it has all the amenities she will need to feel right at home."

The girl, still holding Alastor's hand, looked up at the demon with a mix of curiosity and a hint of trepidation. She knew that her stay at the Hazbin Hotel would be a new beginning, a chance to start fresh and leave her painful past behind. But the thought of seeing her new room, of having a space to call her own in this strange and unfamiliar place, filled her with hope and optimism. Only time would tell what the future held, but for now, she was content to follow Alastor's lead and see where this new path would take her.

Chapter Text

The girl stepped into her new room, her eyes wide with wonder as she took in the exquisite decor and furnishings. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, a genuine expression of gratitude and appreciation. "This is really nice," she murmured, turning to face Alastor. "Thank you so much for bringing me here, I can't possibly express how much I appreciate everything you've done for me. It's only right that I help with the jobs Charlie will assign you. It's the least I can do to repay your kindness and generosity."

However, Alastor remained silent, his expression unreadable as he silently shut the door behind them. The click of the lock engaging made the girl's heart race with a flicker of unease.

"Alastor?" she questioned, a note of confusion and growing worry in her voice. As she spoke, the girl suddenly felt a heavy weight settling around her neck, a glowing green collar that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy. She reached up to touch it, her fingers brushing against the cool metal, and felt a sharp gasp escape her lips.

Before she could voice her shock, Alastor moved. He pulled the chain attached to the collar, the links clinking and clanking as he coiled the length of it around his arm. With a sharp tug, he began to reel her in, the chain tightening and drawing her closer to him with each passing second.

The girl stumbled forward, her heart pounding in her chest as she found herself face to face with the demon who had, until moments ago, seemed like her salvation. Now, with the collar around her neck and the chain in his grasp, a new and far more sinister truth began to dawn on her. The kindness, the generosity, the promises of protection and power...had it all been nothing more than a cruel ruse to ensnare her once more in the clutches of a demon's twisted desires?

Alastor's fingers moved to stroke the girl's cheek with a gentleness that belied the dark intensity smoldering in his eyes. He leaned in close, his breath ghosting over her skin as he spoke, his voice a low, dangerous purr. "My...darling doe, do you dare to mock me so freely?" Alastor murmured, a note of warning lacing his tone.

The girl looked up at him, her eyes wide with confusion and a growing sense of unease. "Of course not," she replied. She had no intention of mocking Alastor.

Alastor's eyes flashed with anger at her attempted response. His hand moved from her cheek to grip her chin, his fingers digging into her soft flesh with a punishing squeeze. "Don't answer back, you insolent girl," he snapped, his voice rising in intensity.

Alastor's grip on the girl's chin tightened, his nails digging into her delicate skin hard enough to leave reddening imprints. He could sense the fear radiating off of her in waves. It is was a delicious sensation.

"You are under my protection," Alastor declared, his voice a low, commanding rumble "I have given you power, strength, and a new life. And in return, you belong to me, body and soul."

He leaned in even closer, until his lips were a mere few inches from hers. "You will do as I say, without question or hesitation. You are beneath me, my dear, and you would do well to remember your place." His words an uncompromising declaration of his dominance.

The girl could only nod, too terrified to speak, as the cold, harsh truth of her new reality sank in. She was no longer a free soul, but a possession, a plaything for Alastor to command as he saw fit. The power and strength he had granted her meant nothing if she dared to disobey him, and the girl knew all too well the terrible price of defiance. So she stood there, awaiting her master's next order with a heart full of dread.

Alastor's voice was a low, commanding growl as he snapped out his next order. "Strip," he demanded, the single word dripping authority that brokered no disobedience. "And bend over that desk there, now."

The girl shuddered, reluctant acceptance washing over her. With trembling hands, she began to undo the fastenings of her clothing, the fabric slipping from her body to pool at her feet. She could feel Alastor's eyes raking over her, she could sense his hunger as he watched her disrobe.

Once nude, the girl hesitantly stepped towards the desk, the polished wood smooth beneath her fingertips as she gripped the edge. A shiver ran through her body as she leaned forward, the position leaving her bare bottom and most intimate places exposed and vulnerable.

Alastor's eyes flashed with a cruel gleam as he flipped his cane, gripping the speaker head with a white-knuckled intensity. He approached the girl, his footsteps echoing on the polished floor, each step bringing him closer to where she lay.

Without any warning, he raised the cane high and brought it down with a sharp, stinging crack against the girl's bare bottom. The sound of the impact filled the room, followed immediately by the girl's pained cry, a desperate sound that tore from her throat.

"Let this be a reminder," Alastor growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble, "of the kindness I have offered you." He punctuated his words with another brutal strike, the cane biting into the soft flesh of the girl's rear, leaving a red welt in its wake.

"Of what you are to me," he snarled, bringing the cane down a third time, the force of the blow jolting the girl forward, her fingers scrambling at the desk for support.

"My precious pet," Alastor purred, a note of dark amusement in his tone as he delivered another blow, the girl's skin now a patchwork of angry red welts and bruises.

"My very dearest soul," he finished, the final strike falling with a force that left the girl sobbing, her body stumbling with the effort to remain in position as Alastor's cruel lesson rained down on her.

Alastor yanked the girl's arm with a strong grip, pulling her stumbling and off-balance towards the floor-length mirror. He spun her around, forcing her to face her reflection, and positioned her so that she had no choice but to stare at her abused, bare bottom. The girl watched in silence as the angry red welts and bruises began to fade and disappear before her very eyes. It was a testament to the regenerative power the demon had bestowed upon her, a gift that now left her skin smooth, unmarked, and flawless once more.

As the girl stood there, taking in the sight of her rapidly healing body, she couldn't help but notice the strain against Alastor's pants. The unmistakable outline of his arousal pressed against the fabric, revealing his twisted desires and the effect her pain and suffering had on him.

He loomed behind her, "you see now, my dear," Alastor murmured "the true extent of the power I have granted you. And with that power, comes the expectation of...gratitude." His hand slid around her waist, pulling her back against him, the hard length of his arousal pressing against the curve of her rear.

As Alastor's hand slid around the girl's waist, pulling her flush against him, she felt an unwanted heat begin to pool between her thighs. Her body betrayed her, reacting to the demon's touch with shameful arousal that made her bite back a whimper. She could feel her core growing slick, her folds glistening with the evidence.

The demon's fingers found her most sensitive spots, rubbing and stroking her dripping slit with a skillful touch. He circled her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send jolts of pleasure shooting through her body.

At the same time, Alastor's other hand reached up to capture one of the girl's nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He pinched the sensitive bud hard, rolling and tugging at it with a force that balanced between pleasure and pain. The dual assault on her most intimate areas left the girl whining and gasping.

She could feel Alastor's breath, hot and heavy, against the side of her neck as he leaned in to growl in her ear. "Your body is so honest, my sweet little pet," he purred. "It knows who it belongs to, even if your mind still struggles to accept the truth. This is your purpose, your reason for being. To serve me, to please me, in every way imaginable."

As if to emphasize his point, Alastor emphasised his words with a particularly sharp twist of her nipple. The girl could only whimper, her hips instinctively rocking back against his hand as her body submitted to his will.

Alastor's eyes narrowed as he abruptly released the girl from his grip. He stepped back, leaving her off-balance, her body still tingling with the unwanted sensations he had inflicted upon her. With an impatient gesture, he barked out his next command.

"Spread your legs," Alastor demanded, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. "Widen your stance, my dear. Show me the depths of your submission."

The girl quickly complied, hesitantly taking a wide step to the side with each foot. She stood there, legs apart, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Alastor flipped his cane once more, gripping the longer, thinner end as he stepped forward. The girl watched with a growing sense of anxiety as he positioned the implement between her spread thighs, the wood brushing against her slick folds. She gasped, a sound of fearful anticipation escaping her lips as the cane pressed forward, parting her delicate petals and pushing through her canal.

The girl cried out in pain as the cane's end pushed against her cervix, the sudden, brutal intrusion sending a searing bolt of agony shooting through her core. She stumbled backwards, the force of the impact knocking the breath from her lungs and leaving her clutching the edge of the desk for support. Tears of pain and humiliation stung her eyes as she fought to remain upright, even as her body screamed in protest.

Alastor watched her with a dark, amused smile as he drank in the sight of her anguish. "Such a pretty little thing," he murmured, mocking affection.

As Alastor continued his brutal assault, shadowed tentacles erupted from the darkness, coiling around the girl's arms and legs with a vice-like grip. They held her in place, forcing her to endure each thrust of the cane as it pierced her most intimate depths, striking her cervix with cruel precision. The girl could only writhe and sob, her body convulsing in agony, tears streaming down her face as she was held helplessly in the demon's grasp.

Throughout her torment, Alastor's hand pumped vigorously at the straining bulge in his pants, the obscene sound of his strokes filling the room. His eyes remained locked on the girl, drinking in every expression of pain with each brutal thrust. The sight of her suffering, the way her body jerked and shuddered as she was violated, only served to heighten his lust.

With a final, brutal slam of the cane into her core and a few more desperate pumps of his own throbbing length, Alastor reached his peak. With a guttural groan as his hot seed spilled into his pants, he released the girl from the shadowy tentacles' cruel embrace. They melted back into the darkness, leaving her to crumple to the floor in a boneless heap, her body wracked with wails and shaking with the aftershocks of her ordeal.

Alastor stood over her, his chest heaving with exertion and a sense of satisfaction. He looked down at the girl's broken, trembling form with a sense of possession.

Alastor hushed the girl's cries with a soft, soothing coo. He leaned down as he lifted her body into his arms. The girl could only whimper softly, too traumatized and exhausted to resist as Alastor carried her to the edge of the bed and sat down, cradling her against his chest.

He began to rock her gently, his body swaying in a slow rhythm as he stroked her back with a gentleness that contrasted the cruelty of his earlier actions. The demon's large hand rubbed soothing circles over the girl's skin, as if he were attempting to calm a baby, rather than the battered, violated woman.

"Shhh, there, there my dear," Alastor cooed. "You did so well, my sweet little girl. I am so very proud of how you endured your first lesson in obedience."

The girl could only whimper in response, her tear-streaked face pressed against Alastor's chest as she struggled to process the whiplash of emotions.

Chapter Text

As the days went on, the girl found herself running ragged, attending to a never-ending list of tasks and repairs around the hotel. She was like a headless chicken, darting from one crisis to the next, trying to keep the building from falling apart at the seams. The work was endless, with no appreciation or acknowledgment.

Alastor had the girl plugging holes blown in the walls, wrangling with burst pipes, and mopping up random leaks from the leaky ceiling. She spent hours on her hands and knees, scrubbing and patching, trying to make the hotel habitable. The work was exhausting.

To make matters worse, Niffy seemed to be constantly causing chaos, trapping herself in the toilet and requiring the girl's rescue. The girl also spent what felt like hours cutting out paper angels and snowflakes, trying to keep up with Charlie’s whimsical decorating demands. She even found herself making origami bunnies, of all things.

And the art supplies, the felt tips and paper, Charlie seemed to go through them at an astonishing rate. The girl was constantly having to restock the supplies.

Through it all, Charlie remained unaware of the girl's plight, too manic to notice Alastor had burdened her with all of his jobs.

The girl sat slumped at the bar, her head cradled in her hands. The past days had blurred together into a never-ending cycle of running errands and attending to the endless maintenance issues plaguing the hotel.

As she sat there, drained and overwhelmed, she felt the vibration of a drink being slid across the bar surface. The girl lifted her head to see Husker standing opposite her.

"Alastor got you slinging hooch too, huh?" Husk spoke, his deep, gruff voice cutting through the clamor of the bar. "Join the club. Welcome to the joys of working for an overlord." He raised his own glass, a toast to the girl's new reality.

The girl groaned, circling the rim of the glass with her finger as she listened to Husk’s words. It was a small comfort, but a welcome one nonetheless, to hear that she wasn't the only one trapped in this ordeal.

"How long have you been under contract with Alastor?" the girl asked.

Husk grunted, taking a hearty swig from his own bottle of liquor before setting it down on the bar with a heavy thunk. "Long enough," he replied. The implication hung heavy in the air between them.

But then, Husk's expression softened, and he placed a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. "Listen, don't go carrying all of the weight on your shoulders, kid," he said. "We're all here for you. All you need to do is ask."

“Ask who?”

The girl jumped at the sudden sound of Alastor's voice, the sharp movement causing her to knock over the glass she had been circling with her finger. The drink spilled across the bar counter, the liquid pooling and dripping off the edge.

"I'm so sorry, I'll clean this up!" she exclaimed. The girl scrambled to grab some napkins, frantically trying to mop up the spilled liquor before it could cause any more of a mess. She avoided Husk's gaze, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

Husk sighed and took the dripping napkins from the girl's hand, "I got it, don't get yourself all worked up," he said. He grabbed a clean towel and efficiently wiped down the bar, the spilled liquor quickly disappearing.

Meanwhile, Alastor's eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange between the girl and the feline. A sly grin spread across his face as he reached out to deliberately knock over another bottle resting on the bar. The glass shattered on the floor, shards and liquid scattering and splattering across the ground.

"Hmm... looks like you missed a spot," Alastor remarked. Before the girl could even reach for the broken glass, the demon had her by the hand, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. "Come along, my dear," Alastor said, already tugging her away from the bar. "I have another errand for you to run."

Husk sighed heavily, shaking his head as he watched Alastor drag the girl away. Angel Dust approached the bar, a look of confusion on his face. "What was that all about?" he asked, gesturing towards the spot where the girl had been sitting moments before.

Husk’s brows furrowed and he leaned in closer to Angel Dust, lowering his voice to a murmur. "There's something real fishy going on between those two," Husk said, shaking his head in disbelief. "The girl just about had a panic attack over spilling a drink. And the way Alastor's been running her ragged, sending her on all those errands..."

Husk paused. "I think there's more to the deal they made than meets the eye. That demon's up to something, and I'm not sure that poor girl has any idea what she's really gotten herself into."

Angel shrugged his shoulders "we're in hell toots” his voice taking on a casually cynical tone. "You can't expect anything good to come out of this place, especially when it's coming from a demon overlord like Alastor."

Lucifer overheard the tail end of the conversation between Angel and Husker.

"Aha! Totally!" Lucifer exclaimed, his voice cutting through their discussion. He sauntered over to the bar, settling himself onto a stool. "Martini, if you would be so kind," he said, flashing Husk a smile as he gestured to the array of bottles behind the bar.

Husk nodded, already reaching for the vodka and vermouth. As he began to mix the drink, Lucifer's gaze drifted to the spot where Alastor had dragged the girl away, a speculative glint in his eyes.

As he set the drink in front of the devil, Husker queried “are you uh…gonna check in on them?”

Lucifer took the martini glass from Husk, bringing it to his lips for a sip. He swirled the clear liquid, the olives clinking softly against the rim of the glass.

"Check in on them?" Lucifer repeated, a hint of laughter in his voice. He leaned back on the barstool "The girl made her bed, now she has to lay in it. She signed the contract, after all. Whatever happens now...well, that's the price she pays for her ambition."

Angel Dust shook his head, unable to stomach Lucifer's callous words. He felt a pang of offense and upset, being trapped in a similar predicament. Without another word, he turned and left the bar.

Husk fixed Lucifer with a glare. "The least you can do is check in on the girl... you know, in Charlie's place." Husk said "your daughter has the responsibility of her guests' wellbeing. Don't you think you should at least make sure she's okay, after he’s run her ragged all day?"

Lucifer huffed, considering Husk’s words. He knew that checking in on the girl would indeed earn him some much-needed approval points with his daughter Charlie.

"Fine, I'll give them ten minutes," Lucifer said, downing the rest of his martini in one smooth gulp.

——————————————————————————

The girl stood before Alastor's desk, her head bowed and her eyes fixed on the floor. She clasped her hands tightly in front of her, fingers intertwined, as if seeking comfort and strength from within herself.

Alastor leaned back in his chair, a look of mock hurt etched onto his face.

"it hurts me to see you sulking around the hotel," Alastor said, his voice dripping with feigned emotion. "Makes me feel like you're not very happy with me." He shook his head slowly.

The girl remained silent, unable to find the words to respond. She knew that anything she said could and would be used against her.

Alastor hummed a jaunty tune. He rose from his seat behind the desk with a fluid, almost graceful motion. In an instant, he had crossed the distance between them and reached out to hook his finger under the girl's chin, tilting her face up to force her to meet his gaze.

"Smile, my dear!" Alastor commanded, "you know you're never fully dressed without one!" He wagged his finger at her, a playful gesture.

The girl tried willing her facial muscles to obey, but it was as if they had turned to stone.

Alastor tutted, "well now, that just won't do," he said. Before the girl could react, he snapped his fingers. Suddenly, dark tentacles erupted from the ground, coiling around her arms and legs. They tightened, squeezing her limbs as they lifted her up off the ground, suspending her in mid-air.

The girl gasped as a shadowy hole in the ground suddenly erupted with movement. Small minions emerged, scuttling up the writhing tentacles that held her captive.

Before she could scream, the minions reached her. Tiny, clawed hands began to tickle at her underarms, her sides, her neck. The girl wriggled and squirmed in the tentacles' grip, trying to escape. Despite her fear, she felt laughter bubbling up in her throat, forced out in uncontrollable bursts as the minions' tickles stole the breath from her lungs.

"Stop! Please, stop!" she gasped out between giggles, tears of laughter streaming down her face. The girl thrashed and kicked, but the tentacles held her fast.

Alastor’s eyes danced with wicked amusement, a cruel smile on his face as he reveled in her helpless state.

"Ah, now that's more like it!" Alastor exclaimed. "I do so love the sound of a girl's laughter. It's music to my ears, truly." He winked at her, a lecherous gesture that only added to the girl's mortification.

With another sharp snap of his fingers, Alastor signaled for his minions to escalate their torment. The girl gasped in shock and renewed panic as she felt the tiny claws of the creatures begin to tear and shred at her clothes. Fabric ripped and tore, exposing more and more of her vulnerability to their wicked onslaught.

"Oh, aren't you just precious," Alastor purred as he approached the helpless girl. He plucked a long, delicate feather from thin air, the quill end appearing between his fingers. The girl's eyes widened in panic as Alastor leaned in close, the feather brushing against her newly exposed, intimate folds.

"No more!" she gasped out between her uncontrollable, tickle-induced laughs. The girl squirmed and tried to clench her thighs together, desperate to escape the demon's touch. But the tentacles held her legs wide apart.

Alastor grinned as he grabbed the girl's thighs and with a sharp tug, he pulled her closer. Leaning down, he dipped his head and began to blow a stream of loud, wet raspberries against the flat of her stomach.

The girl gasped at the ticklish, humiliating sensation. But what truly made her cheeks burn with mortification was when Alastor moved lower, his breath now ghosting over her most intimate area. She tried to clench her thighs together in a desperate attempt to protect herself, but the demon's grip on her legs held them firmly apart.

"No, please... don't..." the girl whimpered as the wet raspberries he blew against her most sensitive area making her squirm and writhe in the tentacles' unyielding grasp before he swiped his fingers between her pussy lips.

Alastor pulled away, a laugh erupting from his throat as he held up his fingers, glistening with her fluids, and waved them tauntingly before her tear-stained face.

"Oh, cher," Alastor mocked, his voice dripping with disdain and amusement. "You are more pathetic than I thought! Look at this!" He rubbed his slick fingers together, emphasizing the wetness that coated them. "You're soaked, my dear. Practically dripping, and I've barely even started with you."

Seconds following this, Lucifer appeared at the doorway, his eyes widening in surprise at the scene before him. He took in the sight of the girl, stripped nearly naked and writhing in a tangle of dark tentacles. The wicked laughter of the minions and Alastor filled the air as they tormented the helpless girl.

"What the fuck..."

Chapter Text

Alastor continued his lewd ministrations, unfazed by Lucifer's sudden appearance. He smirked as he brushed the feather along the girl's trembling thighs.

"Oho, you are one sick fuck if you think you can continue violating that girl right in front of me," Lucifer seethed, his voice dripping with disgust.

Alastor merely shrugged, a look of mock innocence on his face. "Violating? She asked for this," he said, gesturing to the girl's exposed and vulnerable state.

Lucifer turned to the girl, but avoided eye contact out of respect "Is that true?" he asked

The girl nodded meekly, unable to meet Lucifer's gaze directly. She kept her eyes downcast, unwilling to expose Alastor's true cruelty. "Yes, I... I did," she managed to choke out.

Lucifer's eyes narrowed as he considered her admission. He turned to leave but stopped in the doorway, fixing the two of them with a hard glare but then directing his attention to the girl.

"This hotel is for redemption, sinner, not for exploring fetishes," he said, his voice stern “if you wish to keep your place here and have any hope of redemption, you will attend my daughter's sessions. And you will avoid...this sin."

With that, Lucifer exited the room, leaving the girl to ponder the weight of his words.

Alastor leaned in close, his hand coming down to pat her head in a mockery of affection. He leaned in to murmur in her ear, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he praised her deception.

"Good girl," he cooed, his voice dripping with false praise. "You swindled him quite nicely. Lucifer is none the wiser to our little games. Keep this up, and you may just earn a reward."

With a wave of his hand, he dismissed his minions. They scurried away, disappearing back into the shadows from whence they came. At the same time, the demon's tentacles released their grip on the girl's limbs, allowing her to slump to the floor.

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor conjured a new outfit for the girl. A simple, modest dress appeared on her body, covering her nakedness.

"Now then, I have a broadcast to air," he announced, pulling up a stool next to where he sat. He patted the seat beside him, signaling for the girl to join him. "Take a seat, my dear.”

She sat down on the stool next to Alastor without a word of protest. As she settled beside the demon, she remained silent, awaiting his instructions.

"You must not make a single sound during the broadcast," Alastor said. "Not a peep, understand? Or there will be consequences."

The girl nodded obediently. She sat stiffly on the stool, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as she watched him set up the broadcast equipment with practiced efficiency.

Alastor flicked switches and adjusted dials on the vintage radio equipment, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he ensured everything was in working order. Settling into his seat behind the microphone, He cleared his throat and leaned in close to the mesh screen.

"Good evening, my wretched listeners," he purred, "I hope this transmission finds you all rotting in the hellish misery that is your pitiful existence. Tonight, I'm in a particularly...demonic mood, and I can feel the delicious screams of the damned echoing through the very depths of the abyss."

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down the girl's spine as she sat rigidly beside him. "But enough about me. I know you all tune in to hear the lovely sounds of suffering and despair. So let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

The chilling sounds of anguished screams and the sickening squelches of brutal slaughter filled the studio. Alastor's clawed hand came to rest on the girl's knee. She froze, her heart leaping into her throat at the unexpected touch.

"Ah, the sweet music of the damned," Alastor purred, his palm snaking up the girls thigh.

"Listen closely, my wretched listeners, and let the cries of the suffering be a reminder of the fate that awaits those who displease me." He emphasised his last word with a sharp squeeze of her thigh, his claws digging in to her skin.

As the screams faded away, replaced by the soft, sultry tones of a 1930s jazz melody, Alastor took the opportunity to part the girls legs. She gasped at the contact, a sound of surprise and arousal. His eyes flashed with warning and he fixed the girl with a stern, silencing glare.

She bit her lip hard, stifling any further sound that threatened to escape. She sat frozen as Alastor's clawed hand slid her underwear to the side. A small, bullet-like object pressed against her entrance before being pushed inside, stretching her flesh. The girl's breath hitched, but she maintained the silence. Once he was satisfied, he abruptly pulled away, leaving her sitting there with the foreign object inside of her.

As the broadcast went on, the speakers crackled with a mix of lively 1930s tunes and the occasional interlude of screams. The girl sat rigidly beside Alastor, acutely aware of the object he had inserted inside her.

Alastor, meanwhile, leaned casually back in his chair, one hand resting on his knee while the other idly tapped along to the music. His eyes remained fixed on the girl, causing her to feel like a mouse in a cage.

Finally, as the last notes of a lively jazz number faded away, Alastor leaned forward and spoke into the microphone, "Until next time, my dear listeners.” He signed off, the radio falling silent except for the soft hiss of static.

When the on-air sign flicked off, the girl hesitantly spoke up. "I-i have a question," she said meekly.

He tilted his head, waiting for her to voice her question. "Yes, cher? What troubles you?" he asked.

"Wh-what did you put inside of me?" she asked softly.

"Oh, cher," Alastor replied with a predatory smile, "that little trinket is a gift, of sorts. It's there to make your sweet little snatch feel ever so good, my dear. And of course, to remind you who you belong to."

The girl let out a soft gasp, her body jolting slightly as the device inside her suddenly sprang to life, the vibrations pulsing against her sensitive flesh. Alastor's eyes glinted with amusement at her reaction, enjoying the way her thighs clenched together instinctively.

The vibrations ceased as suddenly as they had begun, leaving the girl breathless and flustered. Alastor rose from his seat, his chair screeching softly against the floor. He beckoned to the girl with a crook of his finger.

"Come, petal," he purred. "We must go and ensure that dear Lucifer hasn't been filling Charlie's head with any... malicious notions about our activities. Wouldn't want any trouble, now would we?"

He extended his hand to the girl, a clear invitation for her to take it and follow him.

Chapter Text

Lucifer stood smugly beside his daughter and her girlfriend, both of whom eyed Alastor questionably. Vaggie was the first to speak up, her voice dripping with accusation.

"I knew it, I knew you were taking advantage of her!" Vaggie exclaimed, jabbing a finger in Alastor's direction.

Charlie quickly stepped in to calm her girlfriend down, placing a gentle hand on Vaggie's arm. "Okay, I think we all need to calm down," she said, her voice even and reasonable. "I'm sure this isn't what it looks like. Let's just hear Alastor out and get to the bottom of this."

Alastor held up his hands in mock surrender as he laughed off the accusation. "I wasn't aware we were running a nunnery," he scoffed, amused by the notion. "I was simply entertaining her desires, as any good host should. The girl is here of her own free will"

"BULLSHIT! I know you're just making her go along with this, Alastor!" Lucifer exclaimed.

The demon smirked, unfazed by Lucifer's outburst. "You're paranoid, Lucifer. The girl is here of her own accord," Alastor insisted, even as Vaggie chimed in.

"Oh please, we all know you're manipulating her!" Vaggie yelled.

Charlie tried to intervene, waving her hands in a calming gesture. "Okay, okay, let's all just take a deep breath and talk this out," she said, attempting to diffuse the growing tension.

Meanwhile, the girl stood to the side, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the vibrations of the device Alastor had placed inside her. Her hands clutched at the fabric of her dress, knuckles turning white as she tried to steady herself amidst the chaos unfolding around her.

Charlie shouted "STOP!" her voice echoing through the room. The heated argument between Alastor, Lucifer and Vaggie ceased abruptly. She then grabbed her father's arm and pulled him to the side, leading him away from the others for a private conversation.

"Dad," Charlie said in a low, serious tone. "I'm going to ask that she spends the rest of the day with you. Talk to her, see if she opens up about... whatever's going on. But please, don't push her. I'm trusting you with this."

She hoped her father would handle the delicate situation with the sensitivity and care it required. Charlie knew pushing the girl would only drive her deeper into Alastor's clutches, so she was counting on Lucifer to uncover the truth.

Lucifer met his daughter's gaze, his expression softening. He reached out and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "You've got it, Charlie. I'll take care of this, don't worry," he promised. "I'll get to the bottom of it, but I'll be gentle with her."

He returned to where Alastor and Vaggie stood locked in a tense stare-down. He cleared his throat, "she's going to be spending the rest of the day with me," Lucifer declared. "You can carry on with whatever job you're meant to be doing," he sneered, waving his hand dismissively at Alastor.

The demon simply shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. He was confident that the girl would be back in his clutches soon enough and with their deal in mind that she wouldn’t be letting anything loose. Turning to the girl, Alastor flashed her a grin. "Have a nice day, my dear," he purred. "Don't miss me too much now, haha!" He winked at her before apparating in to the ground.

Lucifer turned to the girl, noticing her tense and pale demeanor. "Hey now, don't look so tense. You're safe with me," he reassured, "how about we go up to my suite, get comfortable, hmm?" Lucifer suggested, extending an inviting hand towards her. His eyes held a mix of concern and warm understanding as he waited for her to take his hand and follow him.

The girl hesitantly reached out and took Lucifer's offered hand. As soon as physical contact was made, the vibrations emanating from the device nestled deep inside her core intensified suddenly. The girl gasped sharply, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, before she could stop herself. Her hands flew instinctively to her lower belly, pressing against the fabric of her dress as she tried to still the sudden, intense pulsing sensation. Her face flushed with warmth, embarrassment and confusion warring in her expression.

Lucifer paused, looking from his hand to the girl's flushed face with concern. "Are you okay? You uh, hurt somewhere? I'll get Charlie-" he began, about to call out for his daughter to assist the clearly distressed girl. But the girl quickly cut him off, shaking her head.

"No, I'm fine!" she insisted, her voice strained. She took a deep, shuddering breath before adding, "I just... have cramps." The lie slipped easily from her lips, a desperate attempt to spare Lucifer the truth of her predicament.

Lucifer blinked, momentarily flustered by the girl's mention of cramps. "Oh, oh right!" he exclaimed, a note of understanding in his voice. "We better get you settled, I should have something uh, somewhere to help with that," he rambled, his mind racing to recall the various remedies he had on hand from when Charlie used to suffer from them.

"Come, let's get you comfortable," Lucifer said, ushering the girl towards the elevator. He pressed the button for his private suite, the doors sliding open with a soft ding. As they stepped inside, Lucifer continued to babble nervously. "I know what it's like, not that I get them myself of course, but with Charlie going through that phase, I'm well-versed in the, ah, female struggles, as it were." He chuckled awkwardly, trying to put the girl at ease.

The girl managed a weak smile and a feeble "th-thank you" as they stepped into the elevator, but her words were cut off by a sharp moan that escaped her lips. The vibrations from the device inside her had intensified further, the relentless pulsing now almost too much to bear. The girl doubled over, clutching her belly as she struggled to stifle another moan, her face burning with humiliation.

Lucifer was quick to react, grabbing hold of her arm to steady the girl as she wavered on her feet. "Easy," he soothed. "We're almost there, just hold on a little longer." He kept his grip firm but gentle on her arm, as the elevator ascended to his private suite on the top floor. The doors opened with a soft chime, and Lucifer led the girl out into the hallway, determined to get her settled and comfortable as quickly as possible.

The girl couldn't help but notice the gold-plated fixed to the right of Lucifer's suite door as they approached. "No Alastors allowed," it read. If not for the torturous sensations coursing through her body, she might have found it amusing.

As Lucifer ushered her into the room and the door clicked shut behind them, the vibrations reached a new, heightened intensity. The girl let out a choked gasp, doubling over and clutching the edge of a nearby table for support. The quiet buzzing sound filled the room, a hum that seemed to grow louder by the second.

Lucifer's brows furrowed in confusion and concern, his eyes darting around the room. "What's- what uh, that noise? Is there a bug in here?" he laughed nervously, looking around to locate it.

The girl couldn't hold back the wanton moan that tore from her throat, the intense sensations overwhelming her senses. She had done it now, she thought desperately, surely Lucifer would catch on to the truth behind her distress. But the demon seemed oblivious, his mind focused on trying to help alleviate her supposed cramps.

"Oh right! Sorry, I know I had something in here which helped my Char Char with her crampies," Lucifer said, rummaging through a wardrobe. He carelessly tossed aside rubber ducks, searching for the elusive item.

"Ah!" he exclaimed triumphantly, holding up a plush duck hot water bottle. With a snap of his fingers, a kettle materialized, and he began to fill the bottle with steaming water. "Here," he said, handing the bottle to the girl. "This always sent Charlie straight to sleep. It has this vibrating feature which is meant to be really soothing, here, let me show you!"

The girl whimpered, trying to protest. "Wait- your majesty, you don't need to!" But Lucifer was already pushing the vibrating bottle firmly against her pelvis, the additional stimulation nearly pushing her over the edge.

"And then you just click this button here!" he instructed, and with a click, the bottle sprang to life, vibrating intensely against her pelvis, sending pulses to her already overstimulated core.

The girl's mouth fell open in a silent scream of pleasure as the combined sensations from the vibrator and the bottle sent her hurtling towards a devastating orgasm. Her body convulsed, and she collapsed forward, falling into Lucifer's arms as the intense climax of her life crashed over her in waves.

The king seemed oblivious to the true reason behind the girl's reaction, still under the impression that the vibrating bottle was merely helping to alleviate her "cramps." He held her tightly, one hand splayed across her lower back while the other supported her shoulder, keeping her pinned against him as she rode out the aftershocks of her climax.

"Easy, easy," Lucifer murmured, his deep voice rumbling through his chest. "I've got you. You're safe here with me." He continued to hold her close, the vibrations of the bottle and the device inside her still wracking her frame as she clung to him, helpless to do anything but surrender to the overwhelming pleasure.

The girl's pleasure quickly turned to tortured overstimulation as the vibrations became too much to bear. She squirmed in Lucifer's arms, a whimper escaping her lips. "C-can I use your bathroom?" she asked weakly, desperate to escape the overwhelming sensations.

"Of course, here, let me help you," Lucifer replied, still seemingly oblivious to the true cause of her distress. He started to lead her towards the bathroom, his grip on her arm firm and unyielding.

"No, n-no, I can go myself," the girl insisted, trying to pull away. But Lucifer was having none of it. He tightened his grip, his eyes filled with a determined, almost fatherly concern.

"No," he said firmly. "I'm taking care of you. Don't worry, I've seen plenty in my lifetime, believe me. Nothing fazes me," he assured her, already steering her towards the bathroom door.

The girl's eyes welled up with tears of frustration and embarrassment as the overwhelming overstimulation became unbearable. She watched helplessly as Lucifer rummaged through a cabinet, pulling out a box of sanitary pads. Her heart raced as he guided her to the toilet, lifting the hem of her dress for her to hold.

But then, Lucifer paused, his brows furrowing as a look of realization dawned on his face. "Hang on..." he murmured, before his eyes widened in shock. "That buzzing sound is... oh! Oh, I see!" The king exclaimed, finally putting the pieces together.

He quickly lowered her dress, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. "Well, this is... rather unexpected," Lucifer said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "It seems we have a bit of a situation here, my dear." He looked at the girl, a mix of concern and a hint of amusement in his eyes as he tried to process this new development.

The girl pleaded desperately, her tears flowing freely now. "Please!" she begged. "Just let me take it out. Lucifer hushed her, his expression softening.

"Alastor put you up to this, didn't he?" the king mused, his brows furrowing in annoyance at the thought of the demon's meddling. "That prick, just wait until I tell Charlie about this," Lucifer growled.

"No! It was me," the girl lied, her face burning with shame and embarrassment. "It was my stupid idea. I was horny and- I don't know what I was thinking. I'm so embarrassed," she sobbed, unable to meet Lucifer's gaze.

Lucifer hummed thoughtfully, considering her tearful admission. "It's... okay," he said finally. "Here, let me help you," he offered, kneeling down in front of the girl

"Hold your dress," he instructed, waiting for her to comply before reaching for the waistband of her panties. With a gentle tug, he pulled them down, whistling softly at the sight of the string of arousal that connected her pussy lips to the fabric.

"Oh, oh you poor thing," Lucifer cooed, circling her twitching hole with a gentle finger. "This must be sore, with all that buzzing and vibrating. You've been a naughty girl, haven't you?" he mused, a hint of disapproval in his tone.

"Hurry!" the girl squealed, desperate for relief from the overwhelming stimulation.

Lucifer tutted, shaking his head. "You're in no position to be making demands now, missy," he scolded gently. "You've been naughty, so we'll do this my way." With that, he carefully extracted the still-vibrating device from her fluttering walls, examining it with curiosity.

Chapter Text

When the device finally left her body, the girl let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief. Her hole pulsed and fluttered before Lucifer's eyes, still sensitive from the intense stimulation. Instinctively, her thighs snapped closed, trying to protect her sex.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" the girl blurted out, panic rising in her voice as she stumbled back, trying to put some distance between herself and the king. Tears of humiliation and shame streamed down her face.

The king's expression softened, and he held up a hand in a placating gesture.

"Hush now, it's alright," Lucifer said gently. "There's no need for distress. We all make mistakes when we're... in the throes of passion," he murmured, glancing down at the still-vibrating device in his palm before setting it aside on the bathroom counter.

Rising to his feet, Lucifer stepped towards the girl. He reached out, gently cupping her chin and tilting her face up to meet his gaze. "Listen to me cupcake" he said, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. We all have our secrets, our moments of weakness. It's how we learn and grow from them that matters."

"I won't tell a soul, have no fear. Your secret is safe with me. Now, let's get you cleaned up and make you presentable again, hmm?" Lucifer offered with a soft, reassuring smile.

Despite Lucifer's gentle words, the girl's eyes remained wide with fear. Her worry, however, was not directed at the king before her. No, her dread was reserved for Alastor.

The girl's mind raced with terrifying thoughts of what Alastor would do when he found out she had disobeyed him. Not only had she removed the "gift", but she had also allowed another man, Lucifer, no less, to touch and see what Alastor owned.

Lucifer sensed the girl's fear and he rubbed her back, trying to calm her nerves. "Shh, it's alright," he murmured.

The fallen angel then stepped away for a moment, grabbing a washcloth from the bathroom counter and running it under warm water. He returned to the girl and carefully pried her quivering thighs apart.

Then, he ever so gently began to wipe away the evidence of her arousal. He worked the cloth over her sensitive flesh lightly, being mindful not to further overstimulate her overworked sex.

The girl covered her face in embarassment but slyly peeked through her fingers. As she did, she couldn't help but notice a glint of gold, Lucifer's wedding band. The sight of it made her feel even more ashamed. But what also drew her gaze was the unmistakable bulge straining against the fabric of Lucifer's white trousers.

He sensed the girl's eyes on him and glanced up, his eyes meeting hers with a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Hmm," he hummed in amusement.

"Every time I wipe here..." Lucifer murmured, deliberately sliding the damp cloth against her clit. The girl gasped softly, her hips twitching involuntarily. "...some more wetness leaks out of here," he mused, prodding at her vaginal entrance with the tip of his finger.

The girl shook her head vehemently. Her body ached to lean into Lucifer's gentle touch, starved as she was for any kindness or intimacy. But the rational part of her mind screamed at her to put an end to this, before it went any further.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this," she said and took a step back, then another, putting some much-needed distance between herself and the king. The thought of Alastor finding out she took it to next base with Lucifer, or even worse, already knowing, filled her with dread.

Lucifer’s brows furrowed in confusion as the girl pulled away from his touch. "What are you afraid of?" he questioned, raising to his feet. "Are you...dating him? I didn't think he was the dating kind," he mused, referring to Alastor and his notorious reputation for avoiding any kind of romantic or sexual relationship.

"You're married..." she said, stating the obvious but needing to voice a reason why this intimate encounter was so wrong without revealing Alastor’s true intentions with her. "I shouldn't... Charlie has been so kind to me, this isn't right," she added.

Lucifer laughed softly. "Is that the kind of man you think I am?" he asked, slightly defensively. Before she could respond, he reached out and took her hands in his, his thumbs gently rubbing over her fingers in a comforting gesture.

"My wife and I are currently separated...haven't seen her in years," Lucifer explained, his expression growing more serious. "I miss her, but...I don't know when or if she's coming back," he admitted, a flicker of sadness in his eyes. The king's marriage was a complicated one, a fact that the girl was clearly unaware of until now.

Lucifer's eyes softened as he looked at the girl. "But... now you're here. Please, let me look after you.” He released her hands, letting them fall to her sides as he began to circle around her.

The king paused, his fingers finding the zipper of the girl's dress. He slowly began to tug it down, the material parting ways to reveal more of her skin. "Is it the bell hop who's been driving you crazy? I could treat you way better than he could," Lucifer murmured, his breath tickling the back of the girl's neck as he leaned in close.

His hands pushed the dress off her shoulders and began to pepper gentle kisses along her left shoulder. His lips, soft and warm, trailing a path from her collarbone up to the sensitive skin just below her ear. Lucifer playfully nipped at the delicate lobe and then purred into her ear, "Come on, sweetie... let me show you how to feel good, hmm? You want that, don't you?”

To punctuate his words, he placed a smooch against the girl's now hot cheek. His hand slid from her shoulder to cup her jaw, tilting her face towards him. The girl's resistance crumbled under his seduction, entranced by his words and his lips which trailed across her skin, she found herself nodding wordlessly, unable to form a coherent response. Her eyes fluttered closed as Lucifer tilted her chin up. The girl parted her lips in a soft gasp. Lucifer took the unspoken invitation, his mouth claiming hers in a searing kiss. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest as he deepened the kiss. She knew this was wrong, knew she should push him away, but the girl found herself helpless to resist. Her own arms crept up to wrap around Lucifer's neck, fingers tangling in his hair as she surrendered.

Lucifer pulled back from the intense kiss, leaving the girl's lips tingling and her mind reeling. Without a word, he reached up and began to tug her dress over her head, helping her slip out of the garment. The dress fell to the floor with a soft rustle, leaving the girl bare before him except for her bra.

He unclasped the back of her bra, exposing her breasts and taking a moment to admire the sight of her. Then, he leaned down and captured one nipple between his lips, suckling gently as he circled the hardened peak with his tongue. He gave the same attention on her other breast.

Lucifer's lips trailed lower, kissing a path down her stomach. The girl's breath hitched in her throat as she felt the first brush of Lucifer's lips against her most intimate area.

Lucifer looked up at her, his eyes seeking consent. With her permission, he leaned in and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her lips, his tongue darting out to taste her. The girl squealed, her fingers instinctively tangling in Lucifer's hair as she bucked her hips against his face.

Emboldened by her response, Lucifer gripped her thighs, pushing them further apart to make room for his head. He continued to kiss and suck at her sensitive clit, his tongue swirling and flicking over the swollen bud. Then, with a low groan, he delved deeper, thrusting his tongue into her folds and lapping at her sweet nectar. The girl cried out, her back arching as Lucifer feasted upon her.

As he continued, his hands began to roam. He squeezed the flesh of her ass cheeks, kneading them in his hands. The girl gasped and squirmed beneath his touch, a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through her.

Just as she thought she couldn't take any more, Lucifer's finger probed at her tightly clenched back entrance. The unexpectedness made the girl gasp sharply, her body tensing for a moment before relaxing. Lucifer smirked against her, the vibrations of his amusement adding a new dimension to the pleasure she experienced.

"Mmm, such a naughty girl, letting me touch you like this," Lucifer murmured, his finger circling and teasing her puckered hole. "But you're enjoying it, aren't you? I can taste how much you want this." With that, he pushed his finger forward, the tip breaching the tight ring of muscle and entering the girl's back passage. At the same time, his tongue flicked out to suckle hard on her throbbing clit, sending the girl hurtling towards a mind-blowing peak, crying out as she came.

"That's it... get it all out, all of the excitement" Lucifer encouraged. He could feel the girl's body trembling against his hand, could sense her growing self-consciousness at her reaction to his intimate touch.

The king chuckled "cumming from me touching your no-no hole?" he teased. "My, my, you are a naughty one, aren't you?" Lucifer mused, his fingers beginning to stroke and caress the small of the girl's back. She could feel her cheeks heat up at his words and covered her face in embarrassment, she had never done anything of the sort before.

He cooed and made soft, awed sounds at the girl's reaction, clearly amused and aroused by her innocent embarrassment. "Aww, look at you, all flustered and shy," Lucifer crooned. "Don't be ashamed, sweet thing. It's natural to have responses like that. I'm just glad I could give you such pleasure."

Lucifer gently tugged her hands away from the girl's face, revealing her slightly dazed expression. "There she is..." he praised softly, a tender smile playing on his lips. "Hi baby, you feeling okay?" the king cooed.

The girl felt herself leaning into Lucifer's comforting touch, her cheek nestling against the warm palm of his hand, nodding bashfully in response.

"Feeling nice and floaty after cumming, duckie?" he cooed. "You were so brave to cum with my finger in your special hole," the king fawned, making her feel somewhat cherished and soothed.

"Now, let's run you a nice warm bath, hmm?" he suggested, already turning towards the large bathtub in the corner of the bathroom. He reached over to turn on the taps, adjusting the temperature of the water.

Just then, a loud knock was heard coming from the front door. Lucifer sighed in annoyance at the sudden interruption. He straightened his clothes and made his way towards the bedroom door. As he opened the door, his disappointment was palpable at the sight of the last person he expected, Alastor.

"Did you not read the sign?" Lucifer said, his voice tight with irritation as he gestured towards the "No Alastors allowed" plaque affixed outside his door. "I thought I made myself quite clear about not wanting to be disturbed, especially not by the likes of you." The king's eyes narrowed as he glared at him.

Alastor let out a laugh at Lucifer's clear displeasure at his arrival. He leaned casually against the doorframe, not bothering to step foot inside. "I have no desire to enter your ridiculous abode," he said with disdain. "I simply mean to inform you that dinner will be ready in half an hour. All hotel residents are to attend." Alastor's gaze flicked over Lucifer's shoulder, towards the bathroom where the girl remained, as if trying to sense her presence.

Lucifer scoffed “yeah, whatever, busboy.” Without another word, he slammed the door shut in Alastor's face.

Chapter Text

As the hotel residents settled into their seats around the long dining table, the girl found herself fidgeting nervously in her chair. She sat quietly, her fingers twisting and intertwining in her lap as she listened to the chatter and laughter that filled the room. The girl felt out of place, a sense of shame and guilt weighing heavily upon her shoulders.

To her left, Lucifer sat entertaining his daughter and her girlfriend with a boisterous story, his laughter ringing out and drawing the attention of the other diners. The girl couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at the ease with which they interacted, their bond evident in the way they laughed and teased each other. In contrast, she felt like an outsider, a secret sinner sitting in judgment among the righteous.

Her mind drifted back to the intimate moments she had shared with Lucifer earlier that day, the way his hands and mouth had explored her most private places. She felt a fresh wave of shame wash over her as she sat at the same table as the man's daughter.

Vaggi leaned over to Charlie, nudging her discreetly and urging her to speak to her father about a matter that had been weighing on both their minds. Charlie hesitated for a moment before leaning in to whisper to Lucifer, her voice barely audible over the din of the dinner conversation.

"So dad..." Charlie began tentatively, glancing nervously at the girl sitting to her left. "Is she okay? Did she mention Alastor mistreating her?" The princess kept her voice low, not wanting the girl to overhear her questioning.

“Oh yeah” Lucifer chuckled, a bit too heartily, before catching himself and trying to backpedal, his words tumbling out in an awkward stammer. "Oh, uh, I mean I treated her better, as in we had way more fun together!" The king shook his head, realizing how that sounded, and tried to clarify.

"No, no, not in that way," Lucifer backtracked, his brow furrowing as he struggled to find the right words. "I mean, I look after her more, wait, no that's not right either..." He trailed off, looking flustered and unsure.

Charlie listened to her father's stumbling explanation, a look of confusion on her face "umm, okay dad, think I get your point..." the princess said, though her tone suggested she was far from convinced. "...You made sure she had a good time with you." With that, Charlie leaned back in her chair, her gaze flicking sideways to the girl, a newfound curiosity and wariness in her eyes.

As Alastor entered the hall, he was accompanied by his minions who carried large pots of the evening's culinary delights.

"Mmm, that smells good," Angel remarked.

"I love jambalaya day!" Niffty squealed with delight.

As the lid was lifted off the pot, revealing the golden rice. “This looks amazing as always Al!” Charlie praised Alastor's culinary efforts. Lucifer scowled at this, annoyed at his daughters attention being redirected to the man he couldn’t stand.

"Oh, I'm charmed, princess!" Alastor exclaimed, in efforts of eliciting a reaction from the king. "My mother's recipe never fails me," Alastor bragged, a smug grin playing on his lips.

Without hesitation, Alastor took a seat next to the girl, much to Lucifer's growing displeasure. His jaw clenched as he watched his rival invade his territory.

"You can't sit there," Lucifer interjected. "She's spending her day away from you," he reminded Alastor pointedly.

Charlie huffed at her father's objection to Alastor taking a seat beside the girl. "We eat dinner together, dad. It's fine," the princess declared, silencing Lucifer's protests.

Alastor smirked, relishing the opportunity to grate on Lucifer's nerves. The man's discomfort was a small victory in their ongoing power struggle.

Lucifer, not wanting to cause a scene in front of the other diners, redirected his attention back to the girl. He leaned in closer, his voice lowering. "You okay?" he asked, his eyes searching her face for any signs of distress. "You'll tell me if he's bothering you, won't you?" the king coaxed gently.

The girl's eyes flicked nervously to Alastor before meeting Lucifer's gaze. "Don't worry..." she reassured him "...he doesn't bother me." The girl's words were meant to put Lucifer at ease, but there was a underlying tension in her voice.

Alastor leaned over, took the girl's plate and began to fill it.

"Eat up, my dear," Alastor said "you must be absolutely famished. I'm sure..." He paused for a moment, letting the implication hang in the air. "...that you have had quite the...eventful day."

Alastor's words made her appetite begin to dissipate. The way he said "eventful" made her stomach twist with unease.

She prayed that her worries were unwarranted, and his attitude was due to the rivalry he had with lucifer but the way Alastor was looking at her, with a glint of knowing, made her fear the worst.

The girl thanked Alastor quietly and picked up her fork, stirring through the rice and tender morsels of meat. As she lifted the utensil to her mouth, Alastor's eyes followed her every movement, watching her intently as she took a bite.

"It's really good," the girl commented, hoping to relieve the sudden tension that had settled over the table. Her words were sincere, but she felt the need to say something, anything, to break the awkward silence.

Alastor's grin widened at her praise, his hand resting on the girl's shoulder. He gave her a small squeeze, a gesture that was meant to be comforting but felt more possessive to the girl. "Thank you, cher," he said "it means a lot to receive your compliments."

Lucifer watched their exchange in disapproval, his grip on his fork tightening as he witnessed Alastor's attempt to gain the girl's favor.

Lucifer and Alastor both reached for the girl's glass at the same time, each man intent on playing the role of the perfect host but Lucifer made it first. To the girl's shock, they also both grabbed the pitcher of freshly squeezed lemonade at the same time, their hands brushing against each other as they tried to outdo one another.

"After you," Lucifer said through gritted teeth, a forced grin stretching across his face as he pushed the pitcher towards Alastor.

"No, I insist, after you!" Alastor countered as he shoved the pitcher back towards Lucifer. "I'm sure you're dying to try my fresh, hand-squeezed lemonade!"

"I was actually just going to pour her a glass, but since you've made the effort, I insist you go ahead," Lucifer retorted, pushing the pitcher back with more force than necessary.

"Since you were so eager to snatch her glass, go ahead!" Alastor snapped, shoving the pitcher back towards Lucifer.

The girl watched in horror as the two men shoved the pitcher back and forth, their hands pushing and pulling with increasing force. And then, as if in slow motion, the unthinkable happened.

The glass shattered, the sound ringing out like a gunshot in the otherwise quiet dining room. The girl gasped as the cool liquid poured over the broken shards of glass.

To the girl's dismay, the spill was not contained to the table. The lemonade pooled and dripped over the edge, the liquid soaking into the delicate fabric of her dress. The girl looked down at the growing wet spot, feeling the dampness spreading across her thigh.

"Dad!" Charlie groaned, burying her face in her hands. She was mortified by the scene unfolding before her, the childish antics of her father and Alastor.

Meanwhile, Cherri and Angel burst into laughter at the ridiculous spectacle before them. The two demons couldn't help but find the whole situation absolutely hilarious.

"What a mess!" Niffty exclaimed, leaving the table no doubt to retrieve cleaning materials.

"Typical," Angel snorted, shaking his head in amusement. "Can't you two act like civilized adults for once?"

"Alastor started it!" Lucifer exclaimed, pointing a finger at his rival. "You shouldn't have let him sit next to her!"

Charlie groaned in exasperation, rubbing her temples "okay dad, just...just take your plate to your room," she said.

Lucifer sighed, looking for a moment as if he might argue further. But then, to everyone's surprise, he nodded. "Okay," he agreed, before turning to the girl and taking her hand in his.

"Come on, let's get you a change of clothes," Lucifer said as he looked down at the girl with an apologetic expression. He tugged gently on her hand, as if intending to lead her away. However, Charlie quickly put a stop to that plan.

"I think you've done enough," she said with a disapproving glare. She gestured towards the doorway, making it clear that she wanted Lucifer to leave and give the girl some space to compose herself.

Lucifer hesitated, glancing back and forth between his daughter and the girl, as if torn between them. After a moment, he released the girl's hand.

"Very well," Lucifer said at last. With a final apologetic glance at the girl, the king turned and strode out of the dining room.

Vaggi turned to whisper to Charlie, her brow furrowed in concern. "You don't think that was a bit harsh babe?" she questioned her girlfriend softly. "Alastor did start it, after all. Don't you think your dad deserved a little more leeway?"

Charlie sighed "Vaggi, I have enough on my mind," she replied, dismissing her girlfriend's concerns with a wave of her hand. "I can't deal with their petty squabbles right now."

Meanwhile, the girl sat frozen, staring down at her plate in dismay. The once appetizing rice was now littered with sharp shards of glass. The lemonade had soaked into the grains, turning them into a soggy, unappetizing mess.

The guests began to make their excuses and vacate the dining room one by one. Charlie and Vaggi were the first to leave, both returning to their duties. Angel Dust soon followed, stepping away from the table to take an important call from work. Cherri, Husk, and Niffty also bid their farewells, each with a parting comment or concerned glance towards the girl before exiting the room.

The girl remained seated at the table, her damp dress clinging uncomfortably to her skin. She had only managed to take a single bite of her dinner before the commotion began, and now her appetite had long since vanished. The girl sat frozen in her seat, not daring to move or draw any more attention to herself. She could feel the tension in the air and the weight of Alastor's gaze upon her as the last two guests remaining at the table.

"My poor pet..." Alastor whispered. The girl flinched involuntarily as Alastor's finger brushed against her cheek, his touch sending a shiver down her spine.

“Did the devil violate you in my absence?" Alastor asked, his tone darkening.

"My gift for you... I sense it's no longer with you," Alastor continued, his eyes narrowing as he studied the girl's face.

"It was too much..." the girl admitted, her voice shaking as she spoke. She couldn't bring herself to look Alastor in the eye, instead staring down at her trembling hands folded in her lap. "Lucifer found out...and he helped take it out," she confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Alastor hummed thoughtfully, as if considering the implications of what she had revealed. "You haven't touched your food," he remarked, his eyes flicking down to the plate before her. "And this is my mother's prized recipe, after all. It would be a shame to let it go to waste."

The man picked up a fork and dipped it into the soggy mess that was once the girl's dinner. He lifted the utensil, the lemonade-sodden rice and shards of glass dangling from the fork.

"Open up, my dear," he commanded, his voice low and threatening.

"I can't..." the girl started to protest, her voice shaking as she tried to reason with Alastor. "Our deal, you said you'd protect me, this isn't!"

But Alastor cut her off mid-sentence “ah, ah, ah," he tutted, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Our contract states that I would protect you against hell's denizens...not my own wrath."

He leaned in closer, the fork still poised dangerously near the girl's mouth.

“Now open” He reiterated. The girl had no choice but to comply, tears leaking from her eyes as she felt the sharp shard of glass pierce her tongue.

"Swallow," Alastor commanded.

As the girl swallowed, she couldn't help but scowl at the texture of the glass shards and soggy rice, the lemonade leaving a bitter taste on her tongue. Her her oesophagus protested, but she forced herself to keep the painful mouthful down.

The girl sat in silence, tears silently rolling down her cheeks. Alastor’s cruel smile and the look in his eyes made it clear that he was enjoying her discomfort, taking pleasure in her pain.

"Good girl," Alastor praised "remember, my dear, you belong to me now. It's important to eat, isn't it? Especially my mother's special recipe."

The girl nodded in response as she sputtered and coughed, her body rejecting the excruciatingly painful shards of glass lodged in her throat. Her hands flew to her neck, gripping desperately as she choked, praying her fast regeneration would kick in and alleviate her agony.

Ignoring the girls predicament, Alastor continued "now then, let's get you looking proper, shall we?” He took the girl's hand, his grip tightening around her delicate fingers.

"A visit to the emporium is in order, to replace this... " He glanced at her dress. "...with something more befitting of such a sweet little thing, don't you think?" Alastor purred, his thumb stroking over her knuckles.

Chapter Text

The girl had never been to this part of Hell before, and the name "Cannibal Town" sent a shiver down her spine. However, as they walked deeper into the town, the girl couldn't help but be surprised by the eerie calm that settled over the area.

Despite the late hour and the ominous name, the streets were unusually quiet and peaceful. The buildings that lined the road were a mix of old and new. Most of the establishments appeared to be closing for the night, their owners shuttering windows and extinguishing lights.

The girl couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, that unseen eyes were peering out from the darkened windows and doorways. She clung tighter to Alastor's hand, both for comfort and to keep herself from fleeing in the opposite direction.

Alastor noticed the girl's tighter grip on his hand "don't fret, my sweet little doe," Alastor cooed. "You're safe with me." He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in before continuing. "Besides, they wouldn't dare to touch you. They know you belong to me." His arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her in close to his side.

She couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that she was being led like a lamb to the slaughter. She hesitantly stepped forward as they approached the emporium. Alastor ushered her inside. "After you, my dear," he said as he held open the door, allowing the girl to step into the rosy interior of the shop.

“We’re closed for the night!” A voice called from up the spiralling stairs. The girl looked up nervously at the sound of the voice, her eyes widening as she took in the tall demoness descending the spiral staircase. She was dressed in a striking pale-maroon and burgundy gown. Her black eyes sparkled as she spotted Alastor and the girl.

"Alastor, is that you?" she called out, her voice echoing through the empty shop. "And is this the darling you've been telling me about?" She smiled, revealing a set of sharp, white teeth.

The girl couldn't help but blush at the demoness's words, feeling a mix of embarrassment and unease at being the center of attention. She ducked her head shyly.

"Oh, why isn't she just the prettiest little thing," the lady gushed, rushing down the remaining steps to greet them. She circled around the girl, her eyes roving over every detail of the girl's appearance, from her damp, tattered dress to her disheveled hair.

"Well, well, well," the demoness purred, reaching out to tilt the girl's chin up with one long, sharp fingernail. "Aren't you just the most adorable little morsel. I can see why Alastor is so... fond of you." She licked her lips which made the girl's blood run cold.

"Oh, don't look so pale" the woman giggled "I won't eat you!" she reassured the girl with a playful wink.

Alastor stepped in, placing a possessive hand on the girl's shoulder as he made the introductions. "Sweetheart, this is Rosie. She's the most dangerous overlord on this side of the pentagram and the best dressmaker. She'll be replacing your...attire with something far more befitting of such a precious jewel."

"Oh, I have just the thing!" Rosie exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she eyed the girl's tattered dress. She took the girl's hand, giving it a gentle tug as she began leading her towards the back of the shop.

"Come along, dear," Rosie cooed. "And you, Alastor, why don't you wait for us in the parlour?" She gestured vaguely towards a door off to the side, a hint of dismissal in her tone.

The girl's eyes widened in surprise as Alastor, without a word of protest, turned and exited towards the parlour. She couldn't believe that this mysterious woman, Rosie, had such power over him. In the brief time she had known Alastor, the overlord had always been so dominant, so unyielding in his demands. Yet, here he was, silently obedience to this demoness's command.

Rosie stood the girl in the center of the dressing room. She clicked her tongue in disapproval as she began to help the girl out of the ruined garment she wore.

"Sweet girl, you need to win over his charm," Rosie chided, rummaging through the crowded clothing racks that lined the walls of the room. She plucked a few hangar after hangar, holding each one up to the girl's figure, appraising the choices against her frame.

The girl frowned in confusion, not quite understanding Rosie's meaning. "But what do you mean by this?" she asked.

Rosie paused, a look of exasperation across her face as she turned to the girl. "If he was truly infatuated, he wouldn't have let you leave in something like this," she explained, gesturing to the crumpled heap of fabric on the floor. "He has a reputation to uphold, and he can't be seen with sloppy, unkempt pets on his arm, now can he?"

The girl simply nodded. Rosie continued, holding a stunning white satin dress up to the girl's figure.

"He likes you for your innocence and your obedience," Rosie said "it would do you well to play into that a little more, my dear."

"I always do whatever he tells me," the girl said, her voice tinged with a hint of defensiveness.

Rosie tutted, shaking her head as she held the dress open for the girl to step into. "You need to look the part, sweetheart," she said "It's not enough to just be obedient, you must embody the very essence of innocence and purity that he craves. That's the key to keeping a man like Alastor interested and devoted to you."

As Rosie helped the girl into a pair of sheer, silky stockings, she paused and looked up at the girl with a mix of concern and curiosity in her eyes. "Tell me, my dear," Rosie asked softly as she smoothed the fabric over the girl's skin. "How badly does he hurt you?"

The girl froze, startled by Rosie's sudden question.

"H-he doesn't," the girl finally managed to stammer out.

But Rosie was not convinced. With a snap of the lace garter against the girl's sensitive thigh, she called the girl out.

"Liar," Rosie accused, her voice hardening as she fastened the stocking securely in place.

The girl flinched at the sudden contact, a gasp escaping her lips.

"Shh, it's alright," Rosie soothed as she cupped the girl's chin in her hand, tilting her head up to meet her gaze. "You don't have to lie to me, sweet girl. I know how these things work, how men like Alastor are. They crave the thrill of breaking something pure, of shattering innocence until there's nothing left but a broken, obedient shell."

Rosie's thumb brushed over the girl's lower lip, a gesture that was almost caring. "But you mustn't let him break you, my dear," she murmured. "You have to find a way to give him what he wants, to feed that dark hunger of his, while still holding onto some shred of your true self. That's the only way you'll survive this, darling girl."

The girl pondered Rosie's words, her brow furrowing as she considered the implications. She remembered the contract she had signed, the promises Alastor had made to her in exchange for her soul.

"In exchange for my soul, he did promise me power to fend off anyone who dares threaten me and his protection," the girl murmured, her voice distant as she lost herself in thought. "I haven't really explored the power part yet..."

She looked up at Rosie with a flicker of hope. "Do you think that if I...become stronger, he might...love me more?" the girl asked.

The girl's heart ached with a profound need for Alastor's affection, for him to see her as more than just a plaything or a means to an end. She yearned for him to gaze upon her with tenderness, to hold her close not out of possession, but out of genuine care and devotion.

Rosie's expression softened, a look of pity and understanding in her dark eyes. She sighed, her hand still cupping the girl's chin, her thumb stroking gently over the delicate skin. "Oh, you sweet, foolish girl," Rosie murmured. "Alastor is not capable of love, not in the way you sinners and winners understand it. His affections are fleeting, his loyalties fluid, always swaying with the wind of his desires."

She paused, letting the harsh truth of her words sink in before continuing. "But if you grow stronger, if you learn to wield the power he's granted you, then perhaps you can earn his respect. And in the world of Hell, that is the closest thing to love that someone like him can offer."

Rosie's eyes narrowed. "You must be clever, my dear. Use the gifts he's given you to your advantage, to keep yourself safe and unbroken. And perhaps, in time, you can forge a bond with Alastor that will last beyond the fleeting thrill of conquest and domination."

Rosie's words were a harsh dose of reality, but they held a glimmer of hope for the girl.

Alastor waited impatiently in the parlour, his claws drumming an agitated rhythm against the armchair. He glanced at the ticking clock on the mantelpiece, his brow furrowing as the minutes ticked by.

Just what was taking them so long, he wondered irritably. A sudden, troubling thought crossed his mind, what if Rosie had decided to sample the girl's charms for herself? A shame, he mused, if that were the case. The girl had proven to be a most entertaining and responsive little plaything, her innocence and gullibility was refreshing, she’d be hard to replace.

Just as Alastor was about to go in search of the pair, the door to the parlour swung open and Rosie entered, the girl at her side. Alastor's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight before him, a wave of feral lust crashing over him like a tidal wave.

The girl was a vision of innocence, the silky white fabric of her dress clinging to her. The hemline was short, just long enough to cover her most intimate areas while still allowing the lace of her stockings and garters to peek out with each step she took. Alastor's gaze lingered on the expanse of skin above the garter, his mind racing with the desire to run his fingers along the flesh.

But it was the final touch that sent a bolt of pure, unadulterated desire straight to Alastor's core. Nestled between the girl's soft, pink lips was a glistening red apple, the gag stretching her mouth open.

He rose to his feet, his eyes roving hungrily over the girl's appearance.

"Well, well, well," Alastor purred, his voice low and rough with desire. "Don't you look good enough to eat, my sweet little morsel?"

Rosie led the girl by the hand to the coffee table and guided her to perch on the edge. With a gentle yet firm pressure on the girl's shoulders, Rosie assisted in lifting the girl's legs up and spreading them wide. The short skirt of the dress rode up high on her thighs, the lacy tops of her stockings and the delicate garters now fully on display.

Rosie turned to Alastor, a wicked laugh bubbling from her lips as she made her announcement. "I hope you're still hungry, Alastor. Dessert is ready," she said gesturing to the girl splayed out on the table.

Alastor rose from the armchair and sauntered over to the coffee table. With a sharp tug, he pulled out a chair and sat down, positioning himself directly between the girl's trembling thighs.

The girl nervously lifted her head, peeking at Alastor. Her heart raced as she watched him settle between her legs.

"Tu es prêt à manger," Alastor snarled, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he drank in the sight of the girl's exposed and vulnerable body.

Alastor reached out for a knife and fork that lay upon the table. The girl's eyes widened in panic as he picked them up, the glint of the sharp blade catching the candlelight. She immediately began to shake her head from side to side as she frantically tried to protest.

"Nnghh! Mmmph!" The girl's muffled cries of distress were garbled and unintelligible behind the apple gag. Rosie let out a sharp tut of disapproval at Alastor's actions.

"Alastor, where are your manners?" Rosie chided. "You can't just go around carving her up like a roast turkey. The girl is a guest, not a feast."

Despite Rosie's reprimand, Alastor merely chuckled. He placed the fork back down on the table.

"Forgive me, Rosie dearest" Alastor purred. "I forget myself sometimes. It's just so hard to resist such a... tempting thing." His eyes roved hungrily over the girl's body "but you needn't worry, my dear. I have far more... pleasurable things in mind for her than a trip to the kitchen."

Alastor acted swiftly, the knife slicing through the dainty fabric of the girl's panties with ease. The flimsy material fell away, fully exposing her most intimate area. He set the knife down, letting it clatter against the wood.

Without hesitation, Alastor's hand slid up the girl's calf, his fingers wrapping around her knee. She trembled at his touch, a whimper escaping around the gag as he lifted her leg, spreading her even wider for him.

He began to litter kisses along the girl's inner thigh, his lips trailing a path over her flesh. He took his time, savoring the taste of her skin and relishing in the way she quivered beneath him. His tongue flicked out, tracing teasing circles along the sensitive area before he moved closer to her core.

As Alastor's lips hovered just above her sex, he paused, his eyes lifting to meet her gaze.

"I'm going to devour you…my sweet doe" Alastor growled. With that promise, he pressed gentle kisses against her sex. as Alastor's kisses grew more passionate and demanding, the girls muffled moans grew louder. Each touch of his lips against her folds sent a jolt of pleasure shooting through her body, making her squirm and writhe beneath him. Alastor seemed to relish in the girl's reactions, his lips and now tongue growing bolder and more aggressive with each passing second. He licked a long, slow stripe up the girl's slit, his tongue delving between her folds to taste the nectar within. The girl's hips bucked against him, her body instinctively seeking more of his intoxicating touch.

"Mmm, you taste divine," Alastor purred against the girl's sex. "I could feast on this sweet cunt for hours."

As if to prove his point, Alastor plunged two long, thick fingers deep into the girl's dripping core. He pumped them in and out, curling and twisting, stroking that secret spot inside her that made her see stars. The girl's back arched off the table.

"Cum for me, mon cœur," Alastor commanded, his fingers moving faster, harder, driving into the girl's clutching heat with a fierce rhythm. "I want to feel your pretty little cunt spasm around my fingers as you squirt your release all over my face."

As if the girl was powerless to resist his command, her body began to seize and shudder. Her inner walls clamped down around Alastor's plunging fingers, gripping them like a vice as an intense orgasm ripped through her. The girl threw her head back, a scream tearing from her throat, the apple gag muffling the sound.

A flood of girl cum erupted from between the girl's thighs, gushing in pulsing spurts to coat Alastor's face and chin. The overlord didn't miss a beat, continuing to finger the girl through her intense climax, drawing out every last drop.

Alastor licked his lips, savoring the taste of the girl's release as it coated his tongue and dripped down his chin. "Exquisite," he purred as he finally withdrew his fingers from the girl's twitching, over-sensitive sex. "You've made quite the mess, my dear.”

As the waves of intense pleasure finally began to calm, the girl found herself overwhelmed by the sheer force of her release. Tears streamed down her face as the emotional turmoil of her climax caught up to her, leaving her a quivering, weeping mess. Alastor could see the girl shaking and crying, her shoulders heaving with each shuddering breath.

"Shh, there now, ma chérie," Alastor cooed, his voice soothing as he gently sat the girl up and gathered her trembling form into his lap. He cradled her against his chest, one hand stroking her hair soothingly.

"You've done so well, my dear. Such a good girl, coming undone for me like that. My dearest pet."

Tears streamed down her face as she came down from her euphoric high, the emotion of it all becoming too much to bear. The apple gag muffled her soft, hiccuping sobs, but her distress was clear.

He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze before he reached round and released her mouth gag.

The conflicting emotions swirling within her left the poor girl utterly confused. How could this demon, who had shown her such cruelty, now hold her with such gentleness and speak to her with such tender concern? She couldn't reconcile the monster who violated her so thoroughly with the man now cradling her like a precious treasure.

"I...I don't understand," the girl whispered, her voice hoarse and rough from her earlier cries. "You're...you’ve been so cruel, yet..." She trailed off. "Why are you being so kind to me now?”

Alastor silenced the girl's confused ramblings with a sharp "Shh," his finger pressing gently against her soft lips. "Those are some very big thoughts, cher," he murmured. "I think we're quite tuckered out, aren't we?"

He brushed away the lingering tears from the girl's cheeks. "My little pet squirted so prettily for me, it's no wonder you're feeling all worn out and upset." Alastor cooed, "but don't you fret, sweetheart. master’s got you now. I'll take good care of you."

Rosie returned back to the room, her arms laden with an armful of dress boxes. "Alastor, look what I've found!" she trilled. "I picked out a few more dresses for your sweet little darling here, and they are simply perfect!"

Alastor glanced up at Rosie, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he took in the array of garments. He summoned a group of his minions and they scurried over, taking the boxes from Rosie's arms.

"Thank you, Rosie, my dear," Alastor said. "Your taste is as exquisite as ever." He turned to the girl, still cradled in his lap.

"I think it's high time we took our leave," Alastor declared, rising from the chair with the girl held in his arms. "I need to put my pet to bed. It's been a long and rather...exhausting day for my sweet little doe."

The girl could only lean against Alastor's shoulder, too tired and emotionally drained to protest or even respond. She let him carry her, trusting that for now, at least, he would keep his word and ensure her safety and comfort.

Chapter Text

By the time Alastor and the girl returned to her room, the poor thing was utterly exhausted from the day's emotionally taxing and physically draining events. As he gently set her down on the edge of her bed, the girl let out a soft whimper. Alastor silenced her sleepy complaints with a soft hush.

He knelt before her, his fingers making quick work of removing her shoes and rolling her stockings down her legs. The girl could only sit there, eyes fluttering closed, head lolling to the side as she struggled to keep herself upright. Her dress was the next to go, the silky fabric pulled over her head. He then disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, only to return with a damp washcloth in hand.

As he approached the bed, he found the girl had already succumbed to exhaustion. A soft chuckle escaped Alastor's lips at the sight of his pet, utterly spent and vulnerable.

He perched himself on the edge of the bed beside her, and began to gently wipe away the remnants of Rosie's handiwork from the girl's face. Repositioning the girl, he proceeded to tuck her under the covers, pulling them up to her chin and smoothing the fabric over her form.

Alastor leaned down and pressed a kiss to the girl's forehead. “Dream of only me” He straightened up and took his leave, closing the door softly behind him as he exited the room.

Alastor strolled into the hotel reception area, his mind still preoccupied with thoughts of the girl's limp, sleeping form in her bed. The urge to sleep eluded him. Instead, he found himself drawn to the sound of voices and laughter.

He was greeted by the sight of Charlie, Angel Dust, Cherri, Baxter, Niffty and Lucifer engaged in a lively board game.

"Hah, well guess what? I just bought another property!" Angel Dust declared, holding up a wad of fake money.

"You son of a bitch," Cherri retorted, her lips curling into a smirk.

Alastor cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the group. He flashed them a charming smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Interesting... mind if I join?" he inquired.

The group fell silent for a moment, their expressions a mix of discomfort, irritation, and wary acceptance. Charlie was the first to speak up "of course you can join, Alastor!"

But Lucifer scoffed, his brows furrowing as he fixed Alastor with a glare. "No, no, he can't just join in the middle of the game," he argued.

Vaggi nodded in agreement. "He's got a point, babe," she said.

Alastor's smile only widened, unfazed by their reluctance. He turned to Charlie "well, why don't we start a new game?" Alastor suggested.

But Angel Dust let out a gasp, slamming his newly acquired property piece down on the board. "What? No way! I just secured all the blue properties!" he cried.

Niffty jumped to her feet and began to chant enthusiastically. "New game! New game! New game!"

Charlie turned to Angel Dust with an appeasing smile. "Come on, Angel," she coaxed, "this is only the practice round, after all. Plus, Niffty has been in jail for the past five rounds”

Angel Dust reluctantly agreed to a new game, with the condition that he would be the banker. But before they could begin, Lucifer interrupted.

"Where is our new guest? She should join us," Lucifer asked, his eyes landing on Alastor with a hint of suspicion.

Alastor merely hummed nonchalantly, crossing his legs as he leaned back in his seat. "Asleep," he replied dismissively. "She's had quite the taxing day."

Not waiting for any further discussion, Lucifer stood up abruptly. "I'm going to go check on her," he declared, already striding towards the door, determined to ensure she was unharmed. The others watched him go, a mix of curiosity and concern on their faces.

Lucifer reached the girl's room and knocked firmly on the door, awaiting a response. When none came, he frowned and tried the handle, to his surprise, found the door unlocked. Lucifer let himself in, stepping softly into the dimly lit room.

There, curled up on the bed, he found the girl indeed fast asleep. She was clutching a pillow tightly to her chest, her arms wrapped around it protectively as she slumbered. Lucifer's heart clenched at the sight of her, so vulnerable in the vast expanse of the bed.

Unable to resist the urge to comfort her, Lucifer snapped his fingers. A large, fluffy rubber duck materialized out of thin air. Gently, Lucifer reached out and carefully pried the pillow from the girl's arms.

He had to hold himself back from cooing or awwing aloud at the sight of her sleeping face, soft and serene. Instead, he tucked the plush duck under her chin, letting the girl clutch it close as she slept. Lucifer's eyes lingered on her for a long moment, a mix of protectiveness and possessiveness welling up within him.

With a final, longing glance at the girl's peaceful form, Lucifer quietly backed away, silently exiting the room and leaving the door slightly ajar.

When Lucifer returned to the ground floor where the others were waiting, Charlie immediately spoke up. "Is she okay?" she asked wearily.

Lucifer merely nodded, his expression unreadable. "She's asleep," he replied succinctly, a hint of accusation in his tone as he glanced sideways at Alastor. "Clearly, Alastor has been overworking her."

"Oh, calm down, she volunteers her services," Alastor responded with a dismissive wave of his hand, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. The two demons engaged in a back-and-forth volley, their voices rising as they argued over the girl's well-being and the true nature of her "volunteering."

Despite the tension, the game of Monopoly began in earnest. Alastor seemed to have a knack for landing on the most desired properties. In the first two rounds, he mysteriously won both, his pile of money growing with each turn.

As the game progressed, Lucifer's patience grew thinner with each passing minute. By the third round, Lucifer was beyond livid, glaring daggers at Alastor. Just as Lucifer was about to make his move, Alastor stood abruptly.

"Well, I must say, this has been a most...enlightening game," Alastor declared. "But I'm afraid I have other pressing matters to attend to. I'll be retiring from this for now, later chums!" With that, Alastor disappeared in to the shadows.

Alastor slipped silently into the girl's room, the door creaking softly as he pushed it open and stepped inside. He found her as Lucifer had left her, the blanket lowered and an unsightly, bright yellow rubber duck tucked under her chin as she slept. Alastor's eyes narrowed as he approached the bed.

As he loomed over her sleeping form, Alastor sighed, shaking his head in disgust. "You would allow him to touch you as you lay in your bed?" he muttered. The girl remained blissfully unaware.

Alastor's gaze dragged over her, taking in the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way her hair splayed across the pillow. A flicker of possessiveness sparked in him. He leaned down, his face inches from hers, his breath ruffling the strands of hair that had fallen across her cheek.

"Mine," he breathed. "You belong to me cher. No one else has the right to touch you like this."

Alastor methodically began to disrobe, shedding his jacket and shirt. He stepped out of his pants, leaving him in nothing but his black boxer briefs. Silently, he slipped into the bed behind the girl's sleeping form, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

With a gentle tug, Alastor pulled the blanket away from the girl's body. She stirred slightly, but remained lost in slumber. He then slowly drew up the hem of her nightgown, inch by careful inch.

Once he had pushed the fabric up to her waist, Alastor took a moment to admire her form. Then he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and slowly drew them down, careful not to disturb her.

The delicate lace slid off her hips and down her legs with ease, leaving the girl bare before him. Alastor couldn't resist running his fingertips along the smooth expanse of her thigh.

Unable to hold back any longer, Alastor palmed himself through his boxers until his manhood strained against the fabric, fully erect and throbbing with need. His breathing grew heavier as he gazed down at the girl's bare, vulnerable figure.

With a low groan, Alastor reached out and propped up one of the girl's legs, hooking her knee over his hip. He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his erection nudging against her soft folds. The girl stirred slightly, a soft murmur escaping her lips as she teetered on the brink of waking.

Alastor couldn't wait any longer. With a single, powerful thrust, he pushed himself inside her, burying his length deep within her tight heat. The girl jolted awake with a sharp gasp, her eyes flying open as she felt the sudden invasion.

"Wh-what?" she whimpered, her voice thick with sleep and confusion. She looked up at Alastor with wide, startled eyes.

Alastor silenced the girl's confused protests with a gentle but firm "Shh," his fingers stroking her hair.

"Sleep, mon amour," he murmured. "Master needs to play a little."

He kept his hips still, allowing the girl a moment to adjust to the sudden intrusion as he caressed her face, his thumb brushing over her soft, plump bottom lip. Alastor's eyes gleamed as he took in the way her cheeks flushed and her chest heaved with startled breaths.

"Don't fight it, cher" Alastor purred, his hips giving a slight roll. His hand slid from her hair to her neck, his fingers wrapping gently around her throat in a possessive grip.

“Be a good girl and take what Master gives you."

The girl whimpered and squirmed beneath Alastor as she struggled to accommodate his size. She clutched the rubber duck tightly to her chest, the bright yellow toy a stark contrast to the dark, intimate act unfolding. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as Alastor continued to thrust into her.

"Please...it hurts..." the girl whined, her voice small and fragile. She tried to pull away, but Alastor's body pinned her down, his hips driving forward.

Alastor leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of the girl's ear as he growled “shh, don't fight it darling. Your body was made for this, made to take my prick." He punctuated his words with a sharp, deep thrust that made the girl cry out.

Alastor's hips jerked and stilled as he reached his peak, a groan tearing from his throat. His fingers tightened around the girl's throat as he spilled himself inside her, flooding her with his seed.

"Ahh, yes...take it all, mon amour," Alastor rasped, his voice strained. The girl could only whimper and shudder beneath him, tears streaming down her face.

Alastor let out a shuddering sigh. He remained nestled inside her, his softening member plugging up the flow of his seed while the girl lay limp and spent. His hand gentled on her throat, his fingers stroking almost tenderly over her pulse.

Alastor then pulled the blanket up and over their intertwined bodies. He gathered the girl close, his arms wrapping possessively around her waist. His lips trailed gentle kisses along the column of her neck. He pressed his mouth to her racing pulse, feeling it flutter beneath his lips as he placed a trail of tender kisses from her jaw to her shoulder. All the while, his fingers stroked and rubbed her hand.

"Shh, there now cher" Alastor murmured against her skin. "No more tears, yes? You were so good for me, so very brave."

The girl could only tremble and let him soothe her, his gentle touches and soft kisses a stark contrast to the way he had just used her.