Archive of Our Own

Alastor sits pretty in front of his vanity table, tracing the leather of his collar with a furrow in his brow.

Years ago, if anyone had told him, fiery thing that he was, that he'd wind up the treasured sub of the king of Hell, he'd have laughed as he slaughtered them.

Now he's thoughtfully touching the collar gifted to him by that very man.

Once upon a time, Alastor thought himself too good for all of this nonsense. His sub designation came late, in his mid twenties, rather dashing his hopes that he'd never be designated at all. Still, he took it in stride, fought his instincts at every turn, made the doms in his life wish they were dead. He granted that wish when it suited him, which was most of the time.

Damn near a century of using Hell as his personal playground, showing the overwhelmingly dominant overlord council that no, they couldn't always get what they wanted. That no matter how much his instincts begged and screamed for him to kneel, submit, please, that he was better than them.

And then the Devil himself walked into a bar, insulted the decor, and the rest was history.

Lucifer's mere presence made Alastor want to fall to his knees and beg. He wonders now, from time to time, if that was the sheer power of the Devil, or if something deep inside Alastor just knew that Lucifer was it for him. He fought it, of course, pushed back even harder, wrestled with himself as much as Lucifer's patience.

In the end, though, Alastor found himself wanting to submit for one Lucifer Morningstar, and that was his undoing. Lucifer showed him that submission can be powerful in its own right, and that he is so much more when he works with his designation, not against it. His power increased tenfold, and so did his pleasure, then, later, their love for one another.

Lucifer never tried to quell his fire like other doms did. No, he added fuel to the flames and took pride in watching Alastor burn the world down.

The collar is red.

Leather, embossed with delicate engravings of snakes, clasped at the front in shining gold with a tag shaped like a set of six wings. No name, but the meaning is clear, and Alastor wouldn't have it any other way. Lucifer doesn't own Alastor, and would never try, but he takes immense pride in showing off that Alastor chose, continues to choose, to submit to him and him alone.

Alastor can't imagine submitting to anyone else.

Why bother? He already has the best. Now his instincts are quiet around every other dom, because no other dom is worth even a glance.

Alastor willingly bears a great many marks of Lucifer's influence. The collar, of course, which he wears proudly every day now. The bites, refreshed every time they have sex as if Lucifer can't stand the thought of leaving Alastor's flesh unmarked. The ring on his finger, not a sign of domination but a sign of partnership, marriage, love. The bruises on his skin, different every time he looks at them depending on where Lucifer last saw fit to hold him tight and refuse to let go.

But they are all on the outside, and Alastor… Alastor is a selfish creature. He wants more. He wants to wear Lucifer's mark everywhere. He wants it on him, inside him, branded against his very soul. The thought alone has his heart rate picking up a little.

Alastor startles to find a hand on his shoulder, thumb smoothing over the material of his jacket, ring finger shining gold. He looks up through the mirror's reflection to meet Lucifer's eyes.

His husband, dom, the only man he has ever loved and the only one he ever will, looks at him with fond amusement on his beautiful face.

"You've got that look that says you're thinking too hard, Bambi."

Alastor flushes a little, equal parts pleased and embarrassed at being caught. The perils of being known.

"It's nothing, Sire. Just wandering thoughts. We've a lot to do today, and the rabble waits for no one!"

Lucifer leans into Alastor's space, cheek to cheek, a peaceful smile on his lips as he examines them both in the mirror. Alastor relaxes on his stool, leaning back into Lucifer's embrace as he allows Lucifer's hands to roam over his chest, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt.

Lucifer kisses his cheek sweetly, "if it were nothing, you'd have just told me. Now, would you like to wait to tell me? Or shall I command you to?"

A pleasurable little shiver shoots from the base of Alastor's skull to the tip of his flicking tail.

This is an old game, something from the very beginning of their sexual relationship. Alastor has never been very forthcoming with the truth, but a part of him, most of him, even, wants Lucifer to know what he's thinking. He has desires and they are screaming to be known, but Alastor… gets too wrapped up in his pride to speak them into being.

Lucifer's solution is to simply command him to talk. Never without permission, but permission is so much easier to give than the truth. So he asks, Alastor says yes, please, Sire, command him to talk, and then he must.

Those days, where Alastor must have his desires dragged from him, are often the best ones. When Lucifer gets his claws into a secret kink, he delivers.

Alastor nods shallowly, his breath catching in his throat, "yes… command me to speak, Sire."

Lucifer growls softly, "as you wish."

His voice dips, then, a little deeper, a little raspier, more resonant. It echoes in Alastor's head like the sweetest music, waking up well-loved instincts to obey his dom. He does not fight it, only closes his eyes and lets submission wash over him for a moment.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

The command sinks into Alastor's mind and takes hold, compelling him to speak.

"I want… to be marked by you. Not just on my skin, but… inside me. Inside my body where nobody else will ever know it's there. In my soul too. Everywhere. I am unquestionably yours, my love. I want the marks to prove it."

A little flicker of hellish flame puffs from Lucifer's parted lips. His eyes, half-lidded, have flooded sinful red.

"Yes."

Alastor moans shakily as Lucifer tugs on his collar. Blackened fingers slip between leather and skin, scratching faint white lines on his throat and tightening the space to just the right side of uncomfortable. Lucifer licks his lips hungrily, "any specific requests? Or can I surprise you?"

"Permanence," Alastor says, barely a whisper.

Lucifer blinks, "permanence? You want something… forever?"

Alastor reaches up and grabs Lucifer's hair, yanking him close and keeping him there as he looks upon the pretty reflection they make in the mirror.

"You have my heart, my soul, my body, already. I want a mark inside me that will never leave. I want to know, no matter where I am or what I am doing, that I carry evidence of your possession."

Lucifer groans, his eyes closed and brows furrowed.

"Yes," he rasps, "I will… I will do that for you. Anything for you, my queen. My love."

Alastor closes his eyes, content with that answer.

He wasn't lying when he said they had much to do today.

First, a meeting with the Sin of Wrath. Satan is a meatheaded idiot, but Alastor finds himself quite endeared by all that undirected rage regardless. Their meeting begins with boring paperwork and reports on recent criminal cases among the hellborn. It ends with Alastor cackling with glee as Satan is dutifully listening to his calming little companion so as not to blow a fuse for the third time in fifteen minutes.

Then another meeting, this time in the Heavenly Embassy. Sera's come down personally this time around. Alastor doesn't know how to feel about her. Another sub who, like himself, refuses to let a dom into her life. Alastor can see her struggle in Lucifer's presence, though Lucifer is doing nothing in particular to cause it. She sits stoically through the meeting, though, and when it's over, Alastor gives her a nod of approval. Oddly, she seems not only to understand why, but appears happy with the shared understanding.

Maybe one day she will find a dom that makes her more, not less, than what she is. Maybe she won't. In either case, Alastor takes comfort in knowing there's a sub in charge up there, and not some aggressive, meatheaded dom.

Finally, after meetings are over and papers are signed, there are sinners to deal with. Lucifer still cannot harm them, but Alastor can. This is where he thrives.

Alastor's whole body lights up with manic glee as he chases down a new overlord. The surprisingly fast coyote sinner leaps from building to building, trying to evade Alastor's shadows. A shame then, that alastor is faster.

When he's finished playing with his food, Alastor snatches the overlord by the ankle with a shadow tentacle and slams her on the ground. She growls, trying to break free as Alastor stalks toward her, cane spinning in his hand.

"Release me," the sinner tries, a dom command weaving through her voice.

Alastor's submissive instincts do nothing. He drives the butt of his cane into her belly, laughing as she wheezes.

"Do you know why you are here? You've gone and captured the attention of the king of Hell, darling! Wonderful work, that is hard to accomplish."

"Let me go!"

Alastor brushes off the attempted command easily and continues, "unfortunately, you captured his ire as well, my dear! You'll have to answer for that crime. Luring Hellborn into your nasty little brothel only to drug them and put them to work is dreadful business. I have been sent to deal with you."

"Free me, and kneel," she says, struggling.

Alastor looms over her, "are you quite finished?"

She growls, clawing ineffectually at the shadows pinning her torso to the dirty concrete.

"Why isn't it working?! Kneel! KNEEL! What the Hell?! You're just a sub!"

Alastor presses his cane harder, enough to break through skin and sink into the soft, gooey mess of her guts. She stares up at him in fear as he laughs.

"Wrong!" Alastor says, his collar glinting in the light of Hell's false sunset as he drives his cane through her hand just to watch her scream, "I am Lucifer Morningstar's sub."

He allows his hungry shadows to snap her up, humming pleasantly as he feels her screams begin to trickle into his collection. A splash of blood that landed on his face begins to trickle down and Alastor wipes it off on his hand and licks it off the meat of his palm.

Lucifer lands next to him with a snap of his wings.

"I never get tired of that," Lucifer says lightly, wrinkling his nose at the puddle of viscera that is all that's left of the unfortunate sinner.

Alastor turns to him, a satisfied smile on his lips and the pleasant ache of a good chase settling in his limbs, "what? Watching me eviscerate your enemies? Trust me, dear, I never tire of it either."

Lucifer snorts inelegantly, "I mean, sure. That too. But I meant hearing you call yourself mine."

"I am yours, Sire. And you are mine. You'd do well to remember that."

Strong hands settle on Alastor's waist, and heated red eyes meet his own.

"It's impossible to forget, Bambi. You submit to me by choice, and that's a gift I will never, ever take for granted. I love you."

Alastor's cheeks flush at the earnest words. He sighs, leaning down to accept a kiss.

"I love you too, ridiculous little Devil," he murmurs against Lucifer's lips.

A laugh, then, "I've been thinking about your request all day, Bambi."

"And?" Alastor prompts, anticipation bubbling up in his guts.

"You'll see," Lucifer says cryptically.

Alastor shivers, already feeling warm in his clothes as he follows his husband through a portal.

"Get on the bed."

Alastor obeys in an instant. The command feels like a caress. Not aggressive, not cruel, not demanding, but dominating all the same. Lucifer's domination is temptation, not force. It seduces, gentle and clever, makes Alastor want to follow orders.

Alastor is entirely bare but for his collar, looking up at his dom dutifully with his hands resting near his head. The cool silk of the bedsheets presses up against him, grounding against the heat of his body. Alastor looks up at the bed's canopy and finds a mirror.

He eyes his reflection, naked and willing in the bed he shares with the king of Hell.

It's dizzying.

His thighs squeeze together, his cunt clenching between them, ideas and fantasies racing through his head about what Lucifer will do.

Lucifer comes into view just as golden ropes snake up onto the bed and weave around Alastor's wrists and ankles. They take his arms gently and tie them securely above his head. They spread his legs and tie his calves to his thighs so he cannot kick or close them.

"What do you have planned, my king?" Alastor says, already breathless.

Lucifer crawls over him, naked and beautiful, "you wanted to be marked, did you not? I'm going to do just that."

Alastor gasps softly into the kiss bestowed upon him. Lucifer starts this adventure in total claiming with a tongue in his mouth, scalding hot. Alastor kisses him back eagerly, allowing the roaming tongue to brush up against his own, then the roof of his mouth, the back of his throat. Those soft hands lay waste to his nerves with their questing, first his shoulders, then chest, crawling down Alastor's body and waking up his system along the way.

Alastor tosses his head back and whines when Lucifer moves his mouth to his throat. He bites his lip as Lucifer bites down into tender flesh, drawing blood just to lick it away with a rumbling groan.

"I thought—ngh!" Alastor says, his chest heaving under Lucifer's careful hands—there is one on his nipple, massaging and tugging, and another on his lower abdomen, caressing the flesh over his womb.

Lucifer chuckles, "you thought?"

Alastor arches, trying to press up into Lucifer, but Lucifer predicts it easily and pins his hips down to the bed.

"I thought you were going to mark me inside, my king," Alastor pants.

Lucifer smirks, "impatient to get started, are we?"

His fingers wander down between Alastor's thighs. He rubs through Alastor's folds, soft fingertips parting slick flesh. Alastor closes his eyes, brows furrowed, "yes! I want it now."

Alastor's eyes fly open as Lucifer swats his cunt with a flat palm in retaliation. The pain flares in his groin, burning hot and delicious on the blood-flushed flesh of his cunt.

"Bratty thing," Lucifer coos sweetly, "keep your eyes open and watch the mirror."

Alastor obeys, helpless to stop himself now even if he wanted to. He doesn't want to, though. He stopped wanting to resist Lucifer years ago. Even then, against all odds, he trusted Lucifer.

Lucifer has never given him a reason not to, in all this time.

Lucifer plunges two fingers into Alastor's cunt and Alastor gasps, watching his hole spread around those fingers and drool slick into the sheets.

"Pretty boy. You're so lovely when you listen," Lucifer murmurs. His voice is laced with love and affection even as his clever fingers break Alastor down with every loving upward stroke.

Alastor watches Lucifer's other hand press against the skin of his lower abdomen.

The magic is warm, tingly, as a small golden portal opens up. It isn't the kind you travel through, more like a window, to allow for viewing.

"Do not look away."

Alastor gasps when he sees it, a perfect view of his own squishy insides, fluttering and squeezing around Lucifer's fingers. His vaginal canal, pink and wet and clenching. His cervix, moving flexibly along with the movement of his muscles. Further up, his womb.

"You will tell me if you want to stop."

Alastor nods, mesmerized by the sight of himself in the mirror.

Lucifer leans down, his face so close to Alastor's cunt, and offers a gentle, sucking kiss to his clit that has Alastor's hips jerking.

"So beautiful for me," he mumbles against Alastor's folds.

Alastor whimpers.

"Do you want to see? I can fuck you on my tongue, just so you can watch."

"Yes," Alastor hisses.

Lucifer does not hesitate.

He dives into Alastor's cunt with all the conviction of a priest at the altar, supping on the body and blood of the object of his dedicated worship.

Alastor gasps, his eyes glued to the mirror. It's disorienting in the best way, feeling the strong push and pull of Lucifer's tongue inside him, massaging his walls, only to see it happen in their reflection. A perfect view, in real time, of Lucifer's tongue pressing, invading, claiming, the interior of Alastor's slick, sloppy cunt.

Alastor rolls his hips as best he can, trying to get more, see more, of that agile tongue inside him. It writhes against his walls, pushing relentlessly into Alastor's g-spot. Alastor moans weakly, mesmerized by the sight of it. His cunt ripples around that tongue, as if even his unconscious reactions beg Alastor's dom for more, more, more.

Lucifer rumbles a moan into the flesh of Alastor's cunt and, in the mirror, Alastor can see the subtle vibrations travel through Lucifer's tongue and into him. Alastor's cunt clenches and he moans louder.

"P-please, my king…" Alastor stutters, already feeling wrecked and they've barely begun.

Lucifer grins, pleased, into Alastor's flesh.

"As you wish," he croons, ever the gentleman even as he removes his tongue only to replace it with his fingers. He thrusts harshly, fingertips curled up to abuse the sensitive spots inside.

"Aahn!" Alastor cries, eyes wide and unable to tear his focus away from the view of Lucifer's fingers fucking inside him, partially hidden by the fluttering muscle of his cunt.

Lucifer kisses his thigh sweetly, "you'll cum for me, sweet boy, and then you'll get your mark."

Not a command, but it hits like one all the same. Alastor's body writhes and tenses as climax wells up inside him. Lucifer dips down to wrap hot lips around the swell of his clit and sucks. His tongue lashes against the bud between his lips, sucking, pulling, bathing in spit.

"Fuck!" Alastor cries, and watches, mesmerized, as his insides squeeze to the rhythm of his devastating orgasm. Lucifer pumps ruthless fingers inside him and gives all his silver-tongued talent to the worship of Alastor's clit as Alastor's body spasms. Orgasm rushes through him, all at once slow as the tide and over in an instant. Muscles flutter, twitch, his clit throbs against Lucifer's lips. Alastor's eyes go half-lidded, but the command Lucifer gave him makes it impossible to look away from the erotic tableau their reflection makes.

Lucifer worships his cunt throughout his orgasm, a devotee to the temple of Alastor's twitching clit and trembling walls.

When he comes up for air, he looks fucking drunk.

Eyes heavy with arousal, pupils blown and sclera gone red like blood. His mouth is soaked in slick that he licks off his lips with purpose.

Alastor takes the moment to catch his breath, watching his dom, waiting for his next command.

Lucifer leans in for one last taste, a deep lick from hole to clit that gathers slick on his tastebuds. He shuts his eyes like he's appreciating the taste, and Alastor can do nothing but appreciate the sight of his swollen clit, shiny with spit and reddened with the swell of blood, pressed flush against Lucifer's soft tongue.

Lucifer sits up, smirking down at Alastor with pride in his eyes, "how was that?"

Alastor nods dumbly.

A laugh, "you're so cute when I fuck you stupid, baby. But I'll need you to use your words now, okay?"

"Yes, my king," Alastor rasps.

A soft, pleased smile, "good boy."

Alastor shudders.

Hands rub gently against his thighs, squeezing and massaging. The viewing portal is still open, and Alastor suspects he won't have to wait long to figure out why.

"I thought about how I wanna mark you, and I have just the thing. Do you want me to tell you now? Or do you want to be surprised."

Alastor shakes his head firmly, "no. I trust you. Do whatever you want, my king."

Lucifer looks at him as if the words were a hit of fucking drugs. His eyes go hazy, his breath hitching as he greedily rakes his eyes over Alastor's bound, naked body.

He nods, then, "eyes on the mirror."

Alastor's gaze snaps to their reflection.

Fingers press again inside him, tenderly massaging those fluttering walls. This time, though, those fingers are wrapped in glittering gold magic. They pump slowly, flexing and stretching inside, and Alastor feels the magic tingle against his flesh.

Lucifer hums a soft little tune, like he's doing nothing more significant than cleaning the dishes, even as his eyes lock intensely onto the sight of Alastor's insides flexing around his fingers.

The magic slips away from Lucifer's fingers and deeper inside, twisting against Alastor's walls until it presses against his cervix. Alastor gasps, a broken little "hng!" when it pushes against his cervix too. It wriggles past his cervix and settles hot against the walls of his womb.

Light, soft and pulsing, streams from the viewing portal as Alastor watches that little slip of magic carve into the walls of his uterus. It doesn't hurt, just a warm, tingly feeling inside. The magic leaves shiny gold in its wake, inlaid into flesh as if it has always been there.

An image starts to form. Line by line, a snake, wrapped possessively around an apple. The snake is sinking its fangs into the apple's flesh. All along the snake's body are countless tiny runes, each in Enochian, and each declaring ownership of the body they are carved into. Alastor whines desperately, seeing Lucifer's claim settle into the flesh of his womb.

His soul sings. Those runes lay claim not just to his body, but to his very being, etched into his soul stuff. Alastor can feel the magic wrapping around his soul like a lover's embrace.

He has never felt so loved. So wanted. So treasured and safe.

Lucifer watches him warily, "is that okay, my heart? I can remo—"

"Don't you dare!" Alastor snarls, emotional tears beginning to slip down his cheeks, "if you take it from me I will never forgive you."

Lucifer's face softens and he murmurs, "of course, love. I'll leave it where it is."

He crawls up the length of Alastor's body and gently kisses away his tears.

"I love you so much, Alastor."

Alastor tugs fruitlessly on his restraints, "I think I'd love you more if you finally fucked me."

Lucifer slaps his cunt harshly and Alastor yelps.

"Just because you're getting what you want doesn't mean you're in charge, Bambi."

Alastor whines softly, too far gone to put up a real fight. Lucifer bites into the meat of his pec and Alastor cries out, body arching.

"W-what if I… asked you nicely…"

Lucifer smirks, "maybe. It depends on what you want, pretty boy."

Alastor tries and fails to roll his hips against the length of Lucifer's cock that dangles so temptingly between his thighs.

"I want…" he pants, arousal making him feel slow and stupid, fuzzy around the edges, and safe in Lucifer's steady arms, "I want you to fuck my womb. F-fuck… inside. I want you to cum on the mark. Please…"

It says a lot about just how gone he is that he didn't struggle to admit that. But how could he not be? Lucifer's gone and left a shiny golden claim right there on the inside of his womb and Alastor… he needs this. He needs it like he needs air and water and Lucifer's gentle dominance.

Lucifer looks down at him with undisguised hunger, his cock jumping against Alastor's thigh. He visibly swallows. His tail, which spontaneously manifested at some point during Alastor's speech, is swishing behind him with enough force to crack in the air like a whip.

"Yeah, yes. Yes," he says after a moment of gear turning. He slips easily back into dominance, the same comfortable jacket he's worn for ten thousand years. His voice goes honey-sweet and cotton-soft as he adjusts Alastor's legs.

"My pretty deer wants to watch me fuck his womb? Wants to see me inside, filling him up with cum? Answer."

Alastor nods hurriedly, his thighs spread wide enough for his knees to touch the mattress by his chest, pulling at his unnaturally flexible joints pleasantly. Lucifer's command settles over him like a muscle relaxant and an aphrodisiac all in one. His cunt clenches, his body, tied up as it is, practically melts against his restraints.

"Yes," Alastor breathes, "I want to see you fill me. I want to see you breed me."

Lucifer growls possessively and begins to guide his cock inside, "I'll breed you so full you'll be fucking leaking, pretty deer. Watch."

The first press of Lucifer's thick cock inside his hole is enlightening. Alastor doesn't think he's ever been so turned on in his life, and the proof is in the uncontrollable spasms that squeeze around the head of his dom's cock. He gasps, feeling the stretch and watching through the viewing portal as Lucifer's cock breaches his slick-sloppy hole. Lucifer thrusts forward gently, visibly carving a path for himself between the tight squeeze of Alastor's vaginal muscles.

Lucifer starts up a rough pace.

He has never fully been able to bottom out inside Alastor. His cock is larger than it rightly should be for a man that short, and Alastor has always been on the small side. It took him quite a bit of training to work up to taking just the girth of Lucifer's cock, let alone the length.

Lucifer seems to find it hot that every time they fuck his cock head bruises Alastor's cervix like a battering ram. Alastor can't help but agree.

Watching it, though? That's on a whole other level. Alastor can hardly breathe, trying to balance the sheer pleasure of Lucifer's divine cock hitting every sensitive spot in his cunt and watching Lucifer's cock squish up against the entrance to his womb like it's begging for entry.

Alastor wants to give it entry. He wants it inside, every inch of it, his to milk for as much cum as Lucifer can give him.

Lucifer plunges inside over and over, a steady rhythm of hips and thigh muscles that steals Alastor's breath from his lungs. Pleasure booms like thunder on every inward thrust, and Alastor can't stop the steady tide of ah, ah, ahn! that spills from his lips.

Lucifer presses harder, deeper, angling himself somehow even better. Rumor has it that the Devil fucks like an animal, so Alastor has heard. Having fucked him (and many times at that), he can confidently say that the Devil fucks like a God. Omniscient, eerily accurate at finding your every weakness and point of pleasure, and gleefully abusing that power.

Alastor's insides clench impossibly tighter and he wails against the unstoppable force that is Lucifer inside him. He can't look away, commanded as he has been to watch. He wants to close his eyes, ground himself against the brutal tide, but he can only watch in the mirror above as Lucifer's cock wrecks him from the inside out.

He can't look away even as Lucifer drops a hand to his clit and rubs tight, rough little circles just the way he likes it, applying more pressure at the topside because he knows Alastor jerks and spasms when he does that.

He watches as his body tightens, his vagina squeezing and fluttering around Lucifer's thick cock which has yet to bottom out. He watches as the mark inside flexes and bends with the movement of his insides. He watches as he cums hard, twitching as he squirts around Lucifer's steady cock. He sees it all in real time, watching even as a world-shattering orgasm breaks over him and he sobs his pleasure into the air for Lucifer to drink like fine wine.

Lucifer does. Not. Stop.

Alastor would kill him if he tried.

He does, however, whisper a spell under his breath. Alastor makes a pathetic whimpering sound in question, to which Lucifer only says, panting breathlessly, "trust me, Bambi, you'll like it."

And then he starts to press.

He aims his cock at the tender opening of Alastor's cervix. Alastor's eyes go wide and his brain short-circuits trying to process the watching versus the feeling.

It doesn't hurt, exactly, though Alastor suspects it would if not for Lucifer's influence. The head of Lucifer's cock grinds against the little opening without reprieve, and Alastor feels the intense ache of his insides beginning to give. It feels warm and heavy and it shoots pleasure signals up through his nervous system so strong they have his arms spasming involuntarily. He watches Lucifer's cock grind and press and—

Alastor's cervix gives way in a moment to short to process. But suddenly, there it is. Lucifer's cock past the walls of his cervix and pressing deeper, stretching that muscle so he can bottom out fully inside. His balls hit Alastor's ass and his cock head kisses the back of Alastor's womb.

Alastor has never felt so full before. He feels like he's splitting in two in the best way possible, and part of him is already grieving that he cannot keep Lucifer inside forever. Overwhelmed tears slip down his cheeks, and Lucifer grins cruelly.

"You like seeing me all the way inside, Bambi?" He coos.

Alastor nods silently, watching wide-eyed as Lucifer's cock pushes against his brand new internal marking.

"You want me to fill you up in here?" He says, tapping a claw against the viewing portal right over Alastor's womb.

Alastor clenches around him and the entire thing shows, muscles rippling around Lucifer's cock from top to bottom. He gasps, the full feeling multiplying by ten for a moment as his body contracts.

He nods rapidly and rasps, "please."

Lucifer smiles gently, proudly, "of course, baby. You just lay back and watch the show."

Lucifer pulls out just until his cock threatens to leave Alastor's womb and then thrusts back in hard. Alastor wails uncontrollably, that intense ache mixing with sparking pleasure. He watches Lucifer plunge in and out of his womb and he's never, ever going to forget the sight.

Lucifer doesn't seem like he'll last much longer. He slides clever fingers against Alastor's clit again and thrusts faster, sloppier, abusing Alastor's insides knowing he'll be thanked for it later. Alastor sobs and wails and does not stop watching. He feels his orgasm coming, bigger and more monstrous that the last, a full-body natural disaster in the making.

Alastor cums for a third time with Lucifer's cock deep in his womb and screams. His body, forcibly opened around that cock, contracts and spasms, like it doesn't even know what to do with all that pleasure. Lucifer's hips stutter and before Alastor can start to catch his breath, he's cumming.

It starts as a spurt. Soon, it becomes a flood. A rune, shining red, flickers above Lucifer's pelvis, and Alastor suddenly remembers that half-whispered spell from earlier.

Cum nearly gushes from Lucifer's cock in thick, gooey spurts that paint Alastor's womb white. Each pulse fills him up further, triggering little aftershocks and overstimulated pleasure. He watches his womb fill with pump after pump of hot, viscous cum until the mark inside is drowning in it.

Alastor feels another orgasm coming on fast. Lucifer fucks the cum into his womb until it can't hold anymore and then keeps cumming. He groans loudly, his brows pinched and his lip stuck between sharp teeth. He pulls out and fucks more inside Alastor's fluttering vagina until it's leaking around his cock.

Alastor whimpers.

Lucifer pulls out entirely and ruts his cock against Alastor's labia, the leaking head butting against his swollen, twitching clit. Alastor sobs as that fast-approaching orgasm hits him hard, his body spasming as he watches the cum slosh around inside his womb and leak from his stretched pussy.

Lucifer finishes with a final thick spurt, having successfully soaked Alastor inside and out in his cum.

He hovers over Alastor for several moments, looking at the cum-soaked mess between Alastor's thighs like he's trying to memorize it.

Alastor grins lazily at him, thoroughly satisfied and flying high on endorphins.

"Fuck, Bambi. You look like my wildest wet dreams right now," he says.

Alastor can't help but agree. He's so full of cum that his stomach is pudgy with it, his womb full to the brim, his hole leaking it in thick globs.

Lucifer raises his hand to snap his fingers, "I'll clean you up, okay?"

Alastor barely knows what comes over him, but he's yanking on his ropes and snarling threateningly at the notion.

"Don't you fucking DARE," he growls, "it's MINE."

Lucifer looks at him, startled, a hot blush painting his face, "you… want to keep it?"

Alastor snaps his teeth, "don't even fucking try it."

"Right!" He says with an embarrassed squeak, so different from when he's wearing his dominance.

"I'll just…" Lucifer says with a raised hand, and for a terrible moment, Alastor thinks Lucifer may go against his wishes. Instead, a thick golden plug coalesces in his hand, shiny in the light of their bedroom.

Alastor nods eagerly and Lucifer inserts it into his cunt, trapping as much cum as he can inside. Alastor sighs, satisfied.

"You may clean the outside now," he says haughtily.

Lucifer snorts and waves away the cum sticking to Alastor's cunt and tummy, then the viewing portal and the ropes tying him down, "how you can take four orgasms and still be this fucking bratty is beyond me, my love."

Alastor sighs happily and stretches out on the bed, lying on his stomach to really feel the fullness in him. He kicks his feet lightly and looks at Lucifer, full of expectation.

"It takes a special kind of person to submit to the Devil and keep him, my dear. Now, a massage, if you please?"

Lucifer barks a laugh and dutifully crawls over to begin massaging Alastor's aching muscles, worshipful thumbs digging into abused joints.

"Yeah, you are pretty fucking special, Bambi."

Alastor nuzzles happily into the cradle of his arms and hopes, privately, that this time, Lucifer's seed took.

But that's a conversation for another day.