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Chapter Text

The first thing Tav noticed when Haarlep came through the door was the fussy little bag hanging over the incubus’s bare shoulder. Although the ornate runework inscribed on the leather matched his usual underwear (did he ever put on clothes?), the effect was offbeat. And when it came to Haarlep, offbeat was unsettling.

“Is that your new bag, Haarlep?”

The incubus stretched himself luxuriously against the doorframe and gave her a theatrical pout. “No pockets, little mouse,” he said, running a hand down his unclothed flank.

Tav relaxed back into the sofa, which was deep and soft, befitting the kinds of visitors to the House of Hope who might wait in this room while Helsik opened the portal next door.

“Ever heard of nature’s pocket?” she asked, her eyes lingering on his rump for emphasis. It was the kind of joke that Raphael would sneer at, but Haarlep would like it. Wouldn't he?

Haarlep tilted his chin downwards and eyeballed her as he began to snicker. Tav met his yellow gaze and started chuckling. She was pleased he’d enjoyed the joke. Although—

His smile was widening and the mirth was seeping out of his laugh at an alarming rate. Tav’s pulse rate began to pick up with anxiety, and then it spiked when the incubus lunged at her. Her hands came up to try to stop her attacker with an eldritch blast, but she was too slow; she found herself pinned with Haarlep straddling her, a faintly salty finger pressing down on her tongue.

“We’re having fun,” instructed Haarlep. “Lower your hands.” She could feel his thick tail flicking slowly back and forth over her knees. Her hands came down, each finding a warm, leathery thigh. The muscles were hard. He was heavy on her lap.

“Our master wanted to make certain preparations for your meeting later,” he said. “But he’s rather indisposed at the moment. Your kind friend Haarlep offered to help. Say thank you.”

He didn’t remove his finger from her mouth. “N’guu,” Tav said, looking up at him through her lashes. She couldn’t deny that this was turning her on. Of course, the incubus was fully aware of this, and spread his thighs wider to press closer to her. His erection was beginning to press against his leathers, the heat of it intensifying. Hollowing her cheeks around his digit in response, Tav explored the salt and the claw with her tongue. Haarlep tried to lean down to kiss her, but even the flexible arch of his spine wouldn’t bring him down low enough.

“How about I change into something a bit more comfortable?” he asked, removing his finger from her mouth with a pop.

Tav felt a tremor of excitement. “Why not?” she asked, running her hands over his thighs. “As lovely as it is, this form is quite heavy. And I won’t be much use if my legs are numb, will I?”

“You won’t need your legs for now, little mouse. However, I shall indulge you. I know you like seeing him ,” Haarlep said. “Devoted as you are.” He began to lean down again, but as he did so, his body was swallowed with violet light that rippled across his red flesh. It was too bright for Tav to keep her eyes open. The weight on her lap lessened, and the skin beneath her fingers went white-hot for a second, before resolving into a more human-like texture. Running her hands up his now-hairy thighs, Tav felt the press of a much softer pair of lips to hers. She kissed Haarlep back, then slid a tongue into his mouth, where he bit it gently, like someone trying to bruise a plum. He was beginning to rock his hips slowly on her now. When her hands slid up to his flanks and around to cup his ass, the tail was gone.

Tav opened her eyes and looked up at Haarlep’s—well, it was Raphael’s, really—human form, but perhaps centuries younger than the Raphael she had made a pact with. Compared to her patron, Haarlep’s hair was more lustrous. His cheeks were full and flushed, his brown eyes insolent. Raphael was an oil painting of a cambion now, but his younger self was breathtaking in his own way. Haarlep gave her a nearly genuine smile, clearly getting a buzz from her arousal, and stroked her cheek with a soft hand.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” asked Tav laughingly. Knowing that incubus magic was flowing between them didn’t lessen the ardour that was flooding her chest. Haarlep lived for it.

“I’m hardly trying, sweet thing.”

Haarlep placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned back as he continued to move, circling and rocking on her legs. He wound his body slowly, sinuously, the occasional forward snap of his hips reminding what act he was miming with his dance. Tingles were shooting from Tav’s scalp down to her core; she was certain she was blushing.

“Imagine if we had some music,” he murmured. “Not that dreadful choral stuff Rapahel listens to. Something with… rhythm .” He ground against her to demonstrate. The rhythm he was thinking of was unmistakable.

After swallowing, Tav asked, “What did Raphael send you to do?” Running her hands up his smooth back, she mentally commended herself for still being able to speak. He responded by rippling his torso against hers, pressing against her breasts and finishing with a slow thrust of his hardness against her stomach. It was all she could do to suppress a gasp as he did it again, his thighs pinning her legs together so the pressure on her clit made it spasm.

“We’ll get to that,” he told her, lowering his beautiful face for another deep kiss as he rutted against her. Both of them were breathing harder when they surfaced.

“Is there something in your bag for me?” Tav asked. Haarlep chuckled and leaned back, arching his spine, demonstrating the power in his taut stomach and narrow waist as he writhed. Each circle of his hips clenched her thighs together, making her sex sing. Hypnotised by the performance, Tav didn’t notice he’d snagged the bag from the table and opened it until he came back up and showed her. It was a small, strangely-carved statue of Raphael himself, seemingly made out of dark red stone.

“What, is he going to watch us fuck through it?” she scoffed. Merely giving a mysterious smile in return, Haarlep placed the smooth statue on the sofa next to them, the wide base keeping it upright even as he suddenly climbed off Tav and slid between her legs. She gripped the back of the sofa as he abruptly tugged her trousers and underwear down and pulled her legs apart, exposing the strings of her wetness spooling between her cunt and her thighs. When his lips found her clit, she threw her head back and moaned his name. His tender suckling had her panting almost immediately, eyes screwed shut and fingers reflexively gripping the seat cushions. She could safely surrender to him; Raphael had forbidden the incubus from stealing her mind permanently, although fucking her into temporary oblivion was certainly still on the cards.

From past evenings spent feasting on each other, she knew Haarlep was also aware that this was merely teasing, that no amount of sucking on her clit would finish her until she had some pressure on that spot inside her. But the effect of his spit, simultaneously relaxing her and winding her as taut as a bowstring, was going to make what came next more delicious for them both.

When she felt a finger at the entrance to her cunt, Tav tensed up and tried to slam her legs closed. “No!” she gasped.

Haarlep broke away to chide her. “I know. Don’t worry, little mouse,” he said. Licking at her thighs until she relaxed again, taking in a deep breath of the scent at the juncture of leg and torso, he gathered the slick at her entrance without penetrating her.

When his fingers moved lower, to the other hole, Tav wriggled, half in fear and half in delight. She craved it, something which Haarlep had picked up on very early on, but it was filthy sex. 

Sometimes when he was in her cunt, they fell into roles as lovers, him drinking adoring words from her lips as he gently moved inside her. But the things he whispered to her, the way he held her down when he was hungrily taking her up the ass, made her sodden with shame and arousal. After a lifetime of struggling to build herself up as a person worthy of respect in Baldur’s Gate, it was hard for Tav to admit that she sometimes just wanted to be called a dirty little slut and used like a toy. The contradiction was torture.

She felt Haarlep probe the tight ring of muscle, smearing it with her wetness, and then the tip of his finger breached her as he gave an expert flick of his tongue across her clit. She wanted more, even as she clenched around the intrusion.

She heard the clink of glass and then a cool liquid was drizzled down her slit and across Haarlep’s hand. The sweet burn of being opened up made her thighs quiver, which earned her a bite on the meat of her leg from the smiling incubus. Feeling a second finger probing alongside the first, Tav took in a deep breath and willed herself to relax. Haarlep came up from between her legs and pressed luscious kisses to her mouth, examining the expressions of discomfort and ecstasy that fleeted across her face as he slowly worked a second finger into her ass. 

Sweat slid down her back and she shivered as he scissored his digits inside her, responding to her moans with filthy sounds of his own. Her nipples throbbed and she slid one hand under her shirt to tweak one, which had Haarlep licking a long stripe up her neck and face and grinding against her. Her other hand snaked down to rub her soaked clit in time with the thrusting of the fingers inside her body.

“I’ve been asked to pass on a couple of rules for today from our beloved master,” said Haarlep, somehow continuing the movements of his hand as he crawled back down her body and knelt before her once more. Looking at this facsimile of Raphael’s youth, his lips red and his eyes dark and glittering, Tav began to feel the tenuous strands of an orgasm weaving their way through her body, making her feel heavy with desire.

“Firstly, you’re not allowed to come without Raphael’s express permission,” he said, then tutted, his eyes falling to her fingers on her clit. “And you’re not allowed to touch yourself.” He darted forwards and gave her hand a sharp nip, drawing blood. When Tav hissed with pain and drew back, he smiled and began to pump his fingers faster. Any discomfort was long gone, leaving her only with the electric bite of pleasure as his knuckles moved in and out of her hole. “He says he doesn’t need to remind you of the usual rule, and I note that you did not let me at that lovely little cunt of yours. He will be pleased. Disappointing for me, of course.”

“And the final rule is that you’re not allowed to remove the statue,” he told her.

“What?” asked Tav, struggling to surface from the submissive haze.

“Turn around and kneel for me,” he said, pulling his fingers out of her. Tav looked at him with confusion, eyes wide. When she didn’t move, he slid his hands under her legs and picked her up easily, flipping her over so her knees were beneath her. He pushed her forwards by the hips until she was leaning over the back of the sofa, her hole opened up for him.

“If you tense up, this will hurt,” he said, giving one ass cheek an experimental spank. “Although perhaps you’d like that.”

“What—what are you—” Tav stammered, then felt something hard and warm push into her relaxed hole. The strange, rounded shape of the statue suddenly made sense. She felt Raphael’s stone shoulders breach her, then the suction of her body took over, and the devil’s likeness disappeared down to his feet. The wide base came to rest between her cheeks. As the statue filled her ass, her mind emptied and she released a long whimper-groan. A soft pair of lips planted a kiss on her rump.

“I have to keep this inside me all day?” she asked, twisting around to look at Haarlep. He nodded.

“Enjoy,” he said in a sing-song voice. “Being Raphael’s pet does have its rewards, doesn’t it? Now, be a good girl and make yourself presentable.”

On shaky legs, Tav clambered to her feet and began to sort out her underwear from her trousers. Violet light shone suddenly within the room, and then Haarlep was back to his usual devil form. With quivering hands, Tav pulled on her clothes and boots. Every movement caused the statue to rub inside her. She knew she was going to have to reorganise her day, but couldn’t put two thoughts together with this heat coursing through her body. Yes, the day would have to be emptied or she was going to embarrass herself…

Haarlep stepped over and smoothed her blouse, copping a feel as he did so. “See you tonight, little mouse,” he said, then began to saunter away, his hips swaying. 

Turning at the doorway, he gave her a sharp smile. “Oh, one more thing… Engorgio .”

Tav felt the statue shiver and press against her walls.

“Did it—did you just make it grow?”

“You tell me,” said the incubus, then repeated the spell.

The thing inside her shuddered again and expanded minutely, which nearly doubled her over with a wave of pleasure.

“Remember the rules, sweet thing. Ta-ra!”

The door closed behind him, and Tav was left to wonder what other surprises the day would hold.

–

She decided quite quickly that most of the chores she’d planned to accomplish in that part of the city could wait until she wasn’t sweating and clamping down on the statue of her patron in her ass. Walking around would be uncomfortable, and she had a feeling that it would be best to avoid chafing before the evening’s activities, whatever Raphael had planned. It would be best not to stray too far from Helsik’s place.

One chore did seem more achievable than the rest. She’d brought an armour set that needed attention and The Forge of the Nine was right next door. It would surely be a waste of the day not to go and see the blacksmith.

After cleaning the sofa with a cantrip, Tav gingerly descended the stairs and nodded to Helsik, who gave an uninterested thumbs-up. She’s got to have heard far worse up there . The afternoon sun was bright in Tav’s eyes as she left the building and began to walk towards the ringing sound of metal being shaped.

She’d placed her foot on the second step when she felt the statue shiver and grow inside her, making her cunt throb with need. That bastard Haarlep was going to be doing this all afternoon. When it went in, the statue had been about the width of two fingers. When it came out…? Well, there was always the vain hope that the incubus would get distracted and forget about tormenting her. 

By the time she was in sight of the forge, the statue had expanded twice more, the second time feeling so good it was all she could do to suppress a moan and stop herself from grinding her hips against the stone balustrade keeping her steady. It was going to be a taxing day.

Dammon was in his shirtsleeves and usual leather apron. His hammer fell again and again on a rough blade of some sort; as she got closer, it looked to be the head of an axe. He finally saw her and beamed, then turned to quench the metal in a tub of water beside his anvil.

“Hey, Dammon! How are you?”

“I’m very well, Tav. Good to see you,” he said, his eyes dancing over her. A trickle of sweat made its way down his golden forehead and into the bandana around his neck as she watched. The forge was hot. “How are you? Actually, you’re looking a bit peaky – are you alright?”

Tav lifted her hand to her forehead, which was indeed sheened with sweat. She was suddenly conscious that her nipples were rock hard within her shirt, and she’d probably already soaked through her underwear and trousers with her arousal. At least Dammon was sweaty too.

“Oh, just finished a run,” she lied.

“Well, don’t push yourself too hard.”

Smiling at his concern, Tav stepped forwards and pulled the damaged studded armour out of her pack. Dammon lifted it up and inspected it with a careful eye, even as he made admiring comments on the elegant workmanship. In addition to the usual wear and tear that leather went through in battle, there was a huge, scorched gouge in the left shoulder where the armour had stopped a poisoned blade.

“Should be very easy to mend,” said the tiefling, giving her a decisive nod.

“That’s great! One more thing… I need it taken out a little bit,” she said. After the whole illithid business had been wrapped up with some breathtaking violence, Tav had settled back down in Baldur’s Gate. Now she wasn’t living on stale bread and whatever stew Gale managed to cobble together from the ingredients they scrounged on the road, Tav’s physique had filled out to something a little less lean and desperate. The last time he’d seen her, Halsin had told her it was even more impossible to resist squeezing her to hear her squeak.

Dammon took an appraising look at her torso, opened his mouth to say something, then suddenly seemed to realise where his eyes were lingering and went bright pink, his lashes fluttering with embarrassment.

“Why don’t you try it on so I can take a look at the fit,” he said. Unable to meet her eyes, he indicated the small section of the terrace to which he had added a curtain to create an impromptu changing room for the people buying his wares.

“That’s all right, I can put it on here,” she told him. She squeezed herself into it, breath becoming slightly more shallow as her breasts were constricted by the tight leather. Dammon didn’t seem to know where to look until she was finished. “Here,” she said. “It’s just getting quite restrictive – I’m finding it harder to cast spells.”

Dammon leaned closer, then had her raise her arms. Placing strong fingers on the lacing at her waist, he gave an unexpected tug that pulled her against him. The body contact had him jumping back like a scalded cat.

“Yes, I can definitely add a couple more inches,” he said, staring up at the facade of the building opposite to avoid Tav’s bemused gaze. “I can probably finish it today, if you’re willing to wait.”

Tav nodded and then struggled out of the armour again, handing it over. “I’ll just sit on that bench,” she said. “Got any more dirty books I can read?”

“Tav!” whimpered the tiefling, turning away—not before she saw him bite his lip.

Although she’d seemed to have made him quite flustered without meaning to, Dammon got a hold of himself quickly once he’d begun working on the armour. Tav pulled a book out of her bag and sat down on the bench, an act which thrust the statue into her body. She opened the book and began to pretend to read—for how could she be expected to concentrate when rocking her hips just so made it almost feel like the state was fucking into her? She stole a glance at Dammon to see if he’d noticed, and his blue gaze darted away from her face. He went to a leatherworking bench on the other side of the terrace and busied himself, his head bowed.

After she was certain he wasn’t going to turn back around, Tav put both feet on the floor and began to mimic Haarlep’s movements from earlier, the slow but powerful rutting and grinding making the statue shift inside her stretching hole. The incubus had taken a lot of pleasure from his dance on her lap, which she had thought was just a response to her own excitement. But had he been wearing a statue of his own, working it inside himself as he rubbed against her?

The imagery of that began to overtake Tav’s thoughts. Perhaps Raphael had bade him roll over in bed that morning, nibbling at his lover’s ridged shoulder as he penetrated him with an obscene monument to vanity. Or—and this seemed equally if not more likely—Haarlep had seen what Raphael had planned for his pet warlock and demanded a statue of his own, inserting it privately once his master had left to conduct his devilry for the day.

Tav was brought back from this vivid fantasy by Dammon’s hand on her knee. He was crouching in front of her, concern written across his features. She realised she must have lost herself, and the blacksmith would have just seen her sweating and quivering, eyes screwed shut.

“Tav, do I need to get a cleric? Do you have heatstroke?”

A cool hand pressed against her forehead. She opened her eyes and looked at him, her pupils huge. He sniffed, then took in a deeper breath. He licked his lips carefully and sat back on his heels.

“You’re not sick, are you?”

“No,” Tav admitted.

“I can smell the infernal on you… and… your heat.”

Tav pressed her legs together and covered her face with her hands.

“What’s going on?” he asked her, resting a palm on her booted ankle.

The explanation she gave him started with the meeting she had scheduled with Raphael for that evening, and then the summons to Helsik’s rooms that had turned out to be Haarlep. She falteringly described what happened next, frightened to meet Dammon’s gaze and see disapproval there—but when they did make eye contact, she saw his excitement.

“Can I—Can I see it?” asked the tiefling in a faltering voice, his wide blue eyes drifting to the curtained part of the terrace. Tav’s gaze followed his, and she nodded. He helped her to her feet, then fell back to walk behind her. Was he observing her careful gait, knowing the cause?

He slid the curtain close with deliberate movements, his cheeks still pink and his eyes sparkling. He came over to Tav and sank down on one knee in front of her. She turned away from him, loosening her belt with weak fingers. As she slowly lowered her trousers and her underwear, she bent over to give him a full view, and he let out a long sigh, mouth agape.

“You can pull it out to look at it, but don’t let it leave my ass,” she told him.

She felt gentle fingers on the base that was flush against her buttocks, and then the smooth glide of Raphael’s likeness withdrawing, sparking pleasure up her spine as Dammon pulled it out up to the shoulders. Tav shifted to spread her legs and placed a hand on the wall to brace herself. After inspecting it carefully, the tiefling pushed the statue back in, eliciting a loud moan from her.

“Oh, Tav, you have to be quiet,” he said in a soft voice. Tav nodded, and then slid a hand across her mouth as he repeated the inspection of the statue, the corners of her vision wavering. “Look at how wet this has made you.” Golden fingers chased the juices that were running down her thighs, and then those fingers were in his mouth.

“Would you like me to fuck you?” he asked, getting slowly to his feet but backing off slightly.

Tav pressed her face against the wall and answered inaudibly.

“What’s that?” he said.

Tav adjusted her head so he could hear her. “I—I can’t. Raphael owns my cunt.”

What she didn’t tell Dammon was how this had arisen. She had been due to meet Raphael one day, but she’d woken up in Halsin’s arms, having gone to support the gradually recovering Reithwin community.

Sleepy kisses pressed to each other’s open faces, upturned to welcome the sun streaming in through the window. Exploring hands, then a gasp from one of them immediately mirrored by the other. Tav was pulled on top, boneless and breathless and ready. Halsin grasping her by the arms and slowly working his thick cock inside her, then making her moan with patient, insistent thrusts. The fat knot forming, signalling he was ready to fill her with his spend for the second time since they’d fallen into bed. Later, when Raphael had bade her strip in his office, he’d noted the prodigious amounts of seed still dribbling out of her with a sneer. That’s when she’d made her promise.

The rule was clear: on days where she met with her master, her cunt was to be tight and ready, kept perfect for him and him alone.

Dammon tilted his head to one side. “I’ve never heard of that as a warlock pact rule before.”

“It’s not part of the pact,” Tav said, turning around and straightening. “I made the promise because I like it.”

At this, Dammon exhaled loudly, shutting his eyes and swaying a little on his feet. “That is the most—Tav, you’re obscene.”

She reached out and grabbed him by the bandana around his neck. He met her lips with a hungry tongue, licking into her and grabbing handfuls of ass to pull her body against his. They gasped against each other’s mouths.

The tiefling pulled back suddenly, his eyes heavy-lidded.

“Can I at least make you come?”

Biting her lip and smiling, Tav shook her head.

“Not today—another rule. But I’d love to watch you finish, Dammon.”

He released her to fumble with his apron, Tav lending her hands but barely helping in her fluttering desperation. When he’d discarded the sheet of leather, he set to working on the lacing of his trousers while Tav opened up his shirt, revealing the ridges and grooves of his torso. His arousal sprang free, the texture and shape making it look like an ornate piece of armour. Pushing Tav back against the wall, he spat on his hand and stroked the slick along his length. She tugged him closer by the hips and he pressed the broad of his cock between her folds, head pointing towards her bellybutton as he began running the ridges up and down her clit. Both of them were making unintelligible sounds, moaning and growling and choking out each other’s names.

Tav could feel the strength of Dammon's frame as he ground against her, the lavish wetness of her body making the slide of every ridge on his cock frictionless against her dazzled clit. She ran her hands over the muscles working in his back and hips, squeezing and scratching; he licked her chin and her mouth and whispered how amazing she felt. His breath smelled of oranges and star anise. 

The tiefling wasn't a man who hid his passions, but this side of him was new and marvellous to her. Lengthening his strokes, he continued to frot against her until his cock slipped accidentally and plunged between her thighs. Tav shifted almost unconsciously, spreading her legs for him. With the head of his cock just kissing her dripping entrance, Dammon paused, and looked at her through his eyelashes. 

“You know, Tav… you're so wet. It would be so easy to slide into you right now.”

Tav gasped, her eyebrows knotting. He leaned forwards and sucked her lower lip into his mouth, his hips stirring, tempting her. And she might have been able to say no, to rearrange him so he was against her front once again, but at that moment in Avernus a red pair of lips parted and spoke the words that sent her over the edge. The statue quivered and swelled inside her tight ass, and it was all she could do to form words through a desperate moan.

“Fuck me. Dammon, fuck me!”

The tiefling, who was trembling like a bowstring, groaned and plunged into her. Tav threw back her head and uttered a howl, and Dammon slid a rough palm over her mouth.

She felt full, incredibly, perfectly so. The pressure of the statue made every sloppy thrust of Dammon’s cock feel like it would split her in half. She began to understand intimately the shapes of the things inside her, feeling every curve of Raphael’s wings, the peaks of the devil’s boots at her rim, the crests of the ripples on Dammon’s sex as it surged inside her. The brink of insanity slithered closer as he grasped her body, whispered how he craved her, how he’d longed to see her wrapped around his cock as he worshipped her.

When he pulled back from kissing Tav’s neck, Dammon’s eyes were bluer than she’d ever seen them, his mouth caught in an O of pleasure. “I’m close,” he told her, panting.

“Don’t finish inside me, please,” she begged.

He gave a heavy thrust, then another, then pulled out and clasped his cock as it spurted over her stomach and his fist. His other hand found her clit and she had the wherewithal to knock it away.

“The rules— ” was all she could gasp. He pressed his forehead to hers and held her, still juddering with aftershocks as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

“Have I got you in trouble, Tav?” Dammon asked eventually.

Tav opened her eyes and scanned his face. “Yes, I think so.”

“I’m so sor—”

“Don’t be sorry. I liked it.” She paused for a moment, then offered: “I’ll come back to you when I’m not under so many restrictions.”

Dammon’s eyes crinkled as he gave a sweet smile. Cupping her cheek, he told her, “I’d like that.”

Tav tilted her head up to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. “Now, help clean me up.”

After mopping off his cooling spend with his bandana, Dammon supported her as she pulled her clothes back on, then re-fastened his own shirt and trousers. He drew back the curtain and fetched her some water as she gingerly walked over to the bench. “Are you going to be alright, Tav?”

“I’m going to be great,” she told him with a wink.

They shared a secret smile for a moment, then Dammon went back to working on her armour as Tav sipped her drink and opened her book. This time, she was able to concentrate on the words, and had worked her way through a few chapters by the time Dammon presented her with his handiwork. Waving away her money, he looked at her intently, not trying to hide the hope on his face. He asked, “Do you really want to come back to see me again?”

Tav took his hand and nodded. “Only if you promise to get more dirty books for us to read together.”

Despite what they’d just done, Dammon’s cheeks took on a deep pink in the light of the setting sun. “That’s a deal.”

Tav smiled, turned and began to make her way carefully back to the Devil’s Fee. When she glanced back over her shoulder, she saw Dammon, golden in the lamplight, raise a hand and give a shy wave. Whatever Raphael might have in store, she’d have something sweet to come back to.

Chapter Text

Tav’s neat black boots tapped on the dark marble floors of the House of Hope as she approached Raphael’s office. She’d washed up and changed into a black silk dress that draped loosely over her curves, making it terribly obvious that she’d foregone underwear. Haarlep seemed to have forgotten about the statue; nothing had changed for the past couple of hours, although it was impossible for her to forget about the weight she was carrying inside her. She was also burdened by worry—how would her master punish her when he discovered her indiscretion? She swallowed, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach as she waited for him to answer her tap on the great wooden door of his office.

“Enter,” came the command. The sumptuous tones were unmistakable. Raphael was in a good mood. Perhaps—no, she dared not voice her hopes. Not here.

Raphael was seated behind his desk, leaning back slightly. He raised an eyebrow and shot her an unctuous smile as she pushed the door close and approached him. There was a leather strap wrapped around his fist. The other end of it hung down out of sight behind the desk.

“Little mouse, little mouse. Have you had a diverting day, my dear little warlock?”

Tav nodded, then found her voice. There was only the slightest tremble in her answer: “I did… Master.”

“Good.” The syllable was drawn out, his voice an indulgent purr. “Tell me about it.”

Tav related the meeting with Haarlep in the Devil’s Fee. At the introduction of the statue, Raphael chuckled. “He is a lascivious thing, isn’t he? Did you like it?”

“Very much,” she said, perhaps too quickly—the devil raised an eyebrow and smirked at her. 

“I imagine it caused all sorts of embarrassments for the remainder of your day. Spare me no detail,” he purred, shifting in his seat and raising the fist with the strap. Tav was too concerned about the next part to notice.

“I went to the blacksmith’s… He’s a good friend and I wanted him to fix some armour. He noticed I was… And when he asked to see it, I showed him.”

Raphael sat up a bit straighter, his gaze sharpening. He waved a hand to indicate she should continue, then pressed two fingers to his lips as he listened.

“One thing led to another, and… Master, I can only offer my deepest apologies, I—”

“Which of our rules did you break, little mouse?” he asked, his steely tone belying the sybaritic smile on his lips.

“It wasn’t meant to happen, but then the statue—”

“Which. Rule?” he bit out.

“I told him to fuck me,” she admitted, hanging her head.

“Tut, tut. Oh, I am most disappointed,” he said, smiling like a crocodile. “Did you not understand our agreement?”

Tav nodded, unable to look at him.

“You know how I feel about these things,” Raphael said. “And so you know what will happen next.”

“I’ll be punished,” she said, in a small voice.

“You’ll be punished. And, quite unlike the classic schoolmaster’s adage, this will not hurt me more than it will hurt you. In fact, I will derive much pleasure from seeing your face as you’re chastised. Oh, you’ll try to be stoic and put on a brave face, but I will be able to… watch as the pain and humiliation… seep through the cracks in your facade—ah!”

At that final exclamation, Raphael threw his head back, and one hand disappeared beneath the desk. The leather cord wrapped around the other fist unwound slowly as Haarlep rose into Tav’s view, his mouth and chin shining. Before she could take a step back, the incubus had trodden quickly around the desk, the leash trailing from a metal collar to flutter behind him as he plunged towards her, seizing her face between his hands. His kiss was salty and hot. His fingers pressed on the sides of her jaw until she opened her lips, and then he was using his tongue to push Raphael’s demonic seed into her gasping mouth. She whimpered and he used his thumbs to hold her jaw closed until he saw her swallow.

“Can I stay to watch the punishment, Raphael?” asked the incubus, his voice melodic but imploring.

“I’ll do you one better,” said their master. “You can help me.”

Haarlep hissed with glee, then circled Tav to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and inhaling the scent of her deeply. "Fear... Delicious," he whispered.

Keeping his eyes on her, Raphael reached for a desk drawer. Opening it, he withdrew a slim book and placed it on the table in front of him. As Haarlep’s hand crept to cup one of her breasts, Raphael leafed through the pages until he found the one he was looking for. He turned it around so it was facing Tav.

“I’d like you to read this poem to me,” he told her. “While Haarlep tutors you. Do you think you can manage that?”

Tav nodded and then squirmed as red fingers found and pinched a nipple.

“It’s a sensual poem, and Haarlep’s tutelage will help to remind you of that. But if you stutter or get it wrong, he’s allowed to punish you any way he sees fit.”

Sharp teeth nipped at her ear, then the incubus whispered, “I will ravage that puckering little hole of yours.” Tav shivered, her cunt clenching. Raphael smiled.

“Begin by undressing.”

Haarlep stepped away from her as Tav undid the tie of her dress with trembling fingers. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him move to the bookshelf on one side of the room and begin inspecting the volumes there. She couldn’t make sense of it. The smooth silk slithered off her shoulders, and Raphael leaned back in his chair, giving her a slow, appreciative look. Haarlep reached up and pulled a leather-bound book down—

“Look at me, not him” ordered Raphael. “Come here and make yourself comfortable, little mouse. Why don’t you bend over the desk?”

Tav approached, and with as much dignity as she could muster, bent over so that her breasts were pressed against the warm, dark wood. She arranged herself so she was leaning on her elbows, so she could see the page and look directly into Raphael’s face.

In her peripheral vision, a red figure returned to the desk and placed the heavy book on her back. Was he trying to pin her down? The cambion’s eyes flicked to it, and then he shot Haarlep a sardonic smile.

“ The Delivery of Justice and Discipline , Volume 69 ? How droll, Haarlep.”

There was a giggle from somewhere behind her, then a sudden ringing slap stung her cheek. Tav wriggled and moaned quietly, a sound which turned into a gasp when she felt oil being trickled down the cleft of her ass, followed by caressing fingers.

“Get a hold of yourself,” said Raphael, in a mock-stern voice. “Now, read for me.”

Tearing her gaze away from Raphael’s hypnotic brown eyes, Tav hesitantly reached for the pages before her.

“ Cruelty and Love ,” she read. Her voice wasn’t as steady as she would have liked. She cleared her throat, shot her master an obsequious look through her eyelashes, and began:

What large, dark hands are those at the window

Lifted, grasping in the yellow light

Which makes its way through the curtain web

At my heart to-night?

She paused at the end of the stanza to get a grip on herself, as unseen hands fondled her ass cheeks and drew light claws over her labia. Spreading her thighs a little wider, she continued reading.

The rabbit presses back her ears,

Turns back her liquid, anguished eyes

And crouches low:

Tav took the opportunity provided by the end of the phrase to sigh and draw in a heavy breath as Haarlep plucked at the base of the statue. The mind-numbing glide as he slowly unseated it from its place inside her body had her eyelids flickering as she tried to focus on the page.

then with wild spring

Spurts from the terror of the oncoming

To be choked back, the wire ring

Her frantic effort thrott—

“ Ugh !” On the last line, Haarlep had kicked her knees wider apart and then driven the statue back inside her, her tight ring seething around the stretch. The legal tome on her back wobbled but stayed where it was. Raphael pressed steepled fingers to his lips to hide his smile.

“Haarlep, my dear, would you consider that an interruption of the reading?”

The answering voice behind her was cruel, rough. “Yesssss.”

“What have you planned?”

Tav tried to cover her face with her hands, but Raphael caught her wrists and shook his head when she looked at him. She began to feel the buzzing of shame in her head; her face and ears were hot with the blood rushing there.

“ Engorgio ,” chanted a voice. “ Engorgio, engorgio .”

Tav cried out, her thighs shaking uncontrollably as the statue stretched her wider and faster than she was expecting. Haarlep gripped her hips and rubbed his erection against her, then she felt him pick up The Delivery of Justice and Discipline from her back.

“What are you—?”

Before she could finish, the incubus struck her on the left ass-cheek with the heavy, leather-bound tome. The flesh of her thighs and hips quivered. She clamped down on the statue. She felt movement behind her, then Raphael held up a hand.

“Wait until she stutters again,” he said, wagging a finger. “Moderation in all things, Haarlep. Now, little mouse, continue.”

It was hardly fair; Haarlep knew that another stumble in her reading would allow him opportunity for further depredations, and so he began to fuck her with the statue in earnest.

Ah soon in his large, hard hands she dies—

Haarlep withdrew the statue, agonisingly slowly but with a twisting motion that made her cunt begin to drip—

And swings all loose to the swing of his walk.

—And drove it back into her in a single, ferocious thrust. But Tav was wily, she was expecting it. Even as she was rocked against the desk, she kept her voice steady and finished the line, though her eyes were round as they sought her master’s face. Raphael nodded in approval of the performance. Haarlep continued with the pattern of slow-fast thrusts, pausing with the withdrawn statue in his hand until he saw Tav’s labia begin to clench with anticipation, then plunging back into her, the slightly-too-large size daring her to cry out as she continued to read:

I hear his hand on the latch, and rise from my chair

Watching the door open: he flashes bare

His strong teeth in a smile, and flashes his eyes

In a smile like triumph upon me.

She got through the lines without stuttering, then released a loud, rough groan before continuing.

He caresses my mouth with his fingers, smelling grim

Of the rabbit's fur! God, I am caught in a snare!

Haarlep changed his tactics, clearly frustrated at the lack of punishment he was able to mete out, beginning to work the statue into a deeper angle; he braced one hand on her hip as he began jogging her over the desk with short, rapid thrusts of the instrument. His cock bobbed against the back of her thigh, trailing wetness. She heard his breathing become fierce.

I know not—what fine—wire is round my—throat,

I only— uh —know—I let him— ugh —finger—there—

Raphael tutted and placed a finger to her lips. “Terrible,” he said, trying to project disdain while his eyes glittered with glee. She saw he was hard again and was pressing a palm down against the bulge in his trousers. “Haarlep?”

Tav didn’t know what she heard or felt first; the dull whump of the book striking her round cheek, the sting of the impact, the incubus’s voice chanting the spell to make the statue grow, or the sudden stretch of her asshole. Everything was swirling together. Her vision shuddered under the onslaught, as Haarlep struck her again. Tears were beginning to well in Tav’s eyes. Raphael noticed with a smirk and leaned forwards to whisper something in her ear that made the salt spill down her cheeks.

“ Read .”

Tav sobbed, a confused half-moan; she could feel the blood throbbing insanely in her neglected cunt. Arching her back, she took another blow from Haarlep, the statue palpitating and expanding again and again. The colour was high in Raphael’s cheeks. The revel of the evening was in full swing. Unable to keep her voice steady, nearing a delirium of pain and pleasure, Tav swiped the tears from her blurry eyes and looked down at the page before her.

His dark bright eyyyyyesssss descend like a—a fiery hood

Up— UH —on… Upon my mind: his mouth meets my—mine, and a flood—

Tav nearly screamed as she felt Haarlep throw down the book and begin frenziedly trying to shove his cock alongside the statue inside her, the ring of her muscle aching and burning as he scratched at her back with clawed hands and hissed and snarled, a fever for her humiliation overtaking him. She wanted it, wanted the too-muchness, but — but the pain , the deep blunt agony of his cock pushing where there wasn't space —

Through the blur, Tav saw she was at the last two lines of the poem. Sobbing with barely-restrained hysteria, she managed to choke out:

Of sweet fire sweeps across me, so I drown

Within him, die, and find death good.

The moment she finished the last word, Raphael uttered an order, then there was a rushing feeling and a sudden emptiness. It took Tav a moment to realise that she was now being cradled in Raphael’s arms, weeping against his bare chest. The atmosphere had changed; it was humid and perfumed. 

From the sudden silence and stillness, Tav realised they were alone. Haarlep was gone. Raphael murmured nothings to her as he stroked her hair and lifted cupped handfuls of water from the healing pool beside them to splash on the slices down her back.

“There now. There we go, little mouse. My little rabbit. He’s gone. Isn’t he beastly? My poor little thing. It’s all right now. I’ve got you.” Tav rested her forehead on his chin and let him hold her as her panic slowly ebbed away. With one hand, he gently tilted her face up to his and licked the salt from her cheeks with a delicate tongue. The tenderness made fresh tears well up, which her patron saw to as well.

After a few long minutes had passed with nothing but the sound of his voice and dripping water, Raphael stroked fingers through her sweaty hair and gave her a smile that reached his eyes. “Are we feeling better now?”

Tav nodded, sniffing. She wasn’t quite ready to talk.

“Good. I’m going to lower us both into the water now. Do you want to know why?”

Another nod.

“The water doesn’t just mend open wounds, little mouse. It revitalises the body. Haarlep’s made a terrible mess of your lovely hind, hasn’t he?” At this, Raphael lifted her up and repositioned her so her back was pressed to his hairy chest. As he lowered her, Tav knew he was slowly pressing his cock into her ass, but she was so overused and uncomfortable that she could barely feel him. Raphael moved them forwards until they were sitting waist deep in the water.

“The powers of my pool will restore your tightness,” Raphael told her. “Which I can assure you will feel exquisite.”

Tav leaned her head back to rest against his shoulder as his hands began to roam over her body. He held her breasts gently, stroking and squeezing the tender flesh. Running his hands across her soft stomach, he murmured, “My beautiful, plump cherry,” before his attention returned to her nipples.

The effects of the healing pool were beginning to make themselves known. Tav could feel the ring of her hole twitching and starting to contract. With sensation starting to return, she could appreciate the fullness of Raphael’s cock inside her. She sighed, arching her back, and her patron chuckled.

“Quite an unusual impression, no? To be inside you as you recover from—well, let’s not dwell on that,” he said, nuzzling her cheek.

The muscle that was now tightening around the cambion’s cock was starting to send signals of a deep, satisfying heat, making Tav wriggle on Raphael’s lap. When he told her to start taking her pleasure—“Why don’t you touch yourself, little rabbit?”—Tav’s hand slipped between her thighs and she began to rub her clit. Her core muscles shivered at the attention she was finally giving herself, and she felt Raphael’s cock twitch in response. Tighter and tighter her hole became, gripping the cock inside it like a vice. Raphael’s fingers slid past hers and dove into her folds, which made her flutter in his arms like a caged bird. She was moaning like he was hurting her, fidgeting as she neared a crescendo of sensation.

Before she could reach that peak, Raphael’s hands were on her hips, lifting her off him. Her thighs shook as he withdrew, leaving her empty and nearly cramping with thwarted pleasure. He pumped into his fist beneath the water, then snapped his fingers.

Tav’s mind felt like it was outside her head for a few moments, then she found she was dry and kneeling on the foot of the bed in the boudoir. Raphael was reclining luxuriously before her, propped up against the headboard with a dozen velvet pillows. He lifted a louche hand and crooked his finger, beckoning. 

On her hands and knees, she crawled up the massive bed, finally settling on his thighs. He was at an angle where he was almost sitting upright, which brought them nearly eye-to-eye. Tav ran both her hands down his furred chest, admiring the smoother planes of muscle and the thick trail of hair from his bellybutton to his hard cock, which he was holding upright for her between thumb and forefinger. Steadying herself with hands on his stomach, Tav raised her hips and then slowly sank down on him until he was fully sheathed inside her cunt. 

The healing pool hadn’t only tightened her ass; despite the hours of foreplay, the fit was snug, the grip of her sweet body reflected in the new sheen of desperate fervour on Raphael’s tanned, handsome face as Tav speared herself on him. He grasped at her hips and her ass, bidding her to move with insistent fingertips. Tav leaned down, resting her forehead against his, and began a leisurely rut. Raphael’s eyes closed and he groaned quietly.

Tav had to go slowly for them both. She was throbbing, and she knew the scene in the office must have excited him greatly. Pressing her hands to the headboard, she kept rolling her hips, throwing her head back and moaning her appreciation for his body into the heavy air. Her patron seized her breasts, suckling and kissing and nipping between his own sounds of pleasure.

He took a fistful of hair from the base of her skull and used it to pull her face down to his. “Faster,” he ordered. The wet noises of her cunt engulfing him began to fill the room as Tav obeyed. He continued, “Little mouse, I think you must be the only thing in this house that loves me.”

His big brown eyes met hers; her lashes fluttered under the weight of his gaze. She swallowed, and found her voice. “I’m yours,” she told him. And she was. Even if her patron had never deigned to touch her, she would still have been devoted to him. From the moment she first saw him and beheld his beauty and his infernal power, she longed to be his. If he hadn’t seen it on her face during that first meeting, he would have known when she moaned his name alone in her tent that night, fluttering around her fingers. He owned her—heart, body and soul.

At her reply, Raphael’s face lit up with a huge, genuine smile, victory flashing in his eyes. “Just so,” he purred. He pressed a kiss to her lips, then bit her, hard. “Now, remember the rules for today. I decide when you climax. It is my desire that you usher in my little death with your own. Do you understand?”

Tav nodded, and he released her. Bracing one hand against the headboard, she slid the other down her body and, as her patron watched, began rubbing at the hard point of her clit through her sopping wet folds as she continued to ride him. Each movement of her hips plunged him into her body at an angle that she’d learned he loved. She could feel his cock beginning to thicken and swell under her attentions, and that made the movements of her fingers on her clit more urgent. They were both making bestial noises, and Tav distantly realised that she’d been moaning his name in an ever-escalating pitch.

Her patron was getting close. High points of colour were gathering in his cheeks, and his chest was flushed. His breathing was quickening, hitching. Tav could feel the melt of her desire, the tension gathering in her core. Body twisting as she gasped, Tav spilled over the edge, her vision whiting out and a long wail leaving her throat as her hips stuttered. Beneath her, Raphael groaned as his cock pulsed and shot thick ropes of cum into her. He grasped her, wrapping both arms around her back as he thrust upwards through their aftershocks. Their mouths were crushed together, their tongues as gracelessly intertwined as their bodies. As she faded away, the final lines of Cruelty and Love came back to her:

—his mouth meets mine, and a flood

Of sweet fire sweeps across me, so I drown

Within him, die, and find death good.

–

Tav hadn’t meant to fall asleep with the devil still inside her, but the fingers of darkness coming up to meet her had been irresistible. When she awoke, she was lying in a wet patch beneath the duvet. Raphael was seated on the edge of the bed, fully clothed and holding a glass of wine. Seeing that her eyes were open, he gave her an indulgent smile.

“I have business to attend to now, so I must bid you adieu. Stay here if you don’t mind Haarlep finding you sooner or later.” There was some allure to that. Surely the incubus’s frenzy would have faded by now, and they might have a lazy day in Raphael's bed, waiting for their master to return. 

“Goodbye, Raphael,” she croaked, raising herself up on one elbow.

“Goodbye, little mouse,” he said. He rose to his feet, then turned to look at her. “You know, I was looking forward to having a naked human footstool for my meetings this week, but you were marvellously obedient for me.” He stooped so his face hovered over hers. “There’s always next time.”

“I won’t disappoint you, Master,” she promised, gazing into his eyes.

Raphael cupped her cheek. “You truly are the perfect warlock,” he told her, then nuzzled the shell of her ear. “My favourite little whore.”

As Tav shivered, he snapped his fingers and was gone in a shower of red sparks. She was left with the sounds of running water and the distant screams from other inhabitants of the House of Hope as Raphael’s portrait smirked down at her.