Archive of Our Own

Vincent looked in the mirror and checked himself up and down. He wore his finest vest, smart pants, and his new pair of glasses. Good. He assessed once more. Well, good enough.

Vincent made it to the bar an hour early. Was that weird? Probably. But Alastor would never know.

He downed his first whisky for courage, then nursed the second as he waited for Alastor’s arrival. He ran the interaction over and over in his mind. He thought he was ready until Alastor took the seat beside him. Then every thought and word he planned went out the window.

“Oh, hi Alastor,” Vincent said, smiling brightly.

Alastor watched him with that easy smile of his. The bartender slid him his own whisky and he sipped it.

“You said you had something you wanted to discuss?” Alastor asked.

Vincent swallowed nervously.

“Yes. Right to the point then. So, you’ve been like a mentor, and inspiration to me. And now that I’m starting to carve my way further into television, I wanted to offer you a partnership. Radio and Television combined into a cohesive media platform,” Vincent said.

Alastor raised an eyebrow and sipped his whisky.

“I’m flattered, really. But what on earth do you have to offer me?” Alastor asked.

“I mean, we’re friends, aren’t we?” Vincent asked, completely caught off guard.

“Friends? Vincent, you are an entertaining distraction. That’s all. And as far as a partnership? You’re barely old enough to buy your own liquor. Again, what in God’s name do you have to offer me?”

“I…I..”

Alastor laughed and put money on the bar.

“What a disappointment you are. How embarrassing,” Alastor cackled his way out of the pub.

Vincent stared at the counter, willing himself not to cry. How humiliating. He’d really considered Alastor a close friend. What a fucking fool he’d been.

Vincent wiped his eye with his sleeve and scowled. Fuck this. He was going to shine bright. A star amongst sheep. And when he finally reached the top, he would shove it in Alastor’s smart-ass face.

***  

10 years later

Vincent straitened his tie for the tenth time, looking himself up and down in front of the dingy bar’s bathroom mirror. This hole in the wall saloon was hardly Vincent’s style. But it was Alastor’s style. As he had spent two thousand dollars on a private investigator to discover.

Vincent returned to the dirty bar. He tried to avoid the surface, sticky with spilled alcohol.

Right on time, Alastor slid into the bar seat with one stool between them. He lifted his hand to the bartender and a double whisky was laid before him.

“Alastor?” Vincent asked, feigning surprise.

“Ah, dear. Vincent, yes? I haven’t seen you in years. Well, in person. You have made quite a name for yourself out there,” Alastor said.

“All thanks to my first mentor,” Vincent said, swallowing the scowl threatening to spill through his persona.

“Yes, well. What are you doing here?” Alastor asked.

“I was nearby for a meeting and I figured I’d get a drink. You?” Vincent asked innocently.

“I’m a regular here. But…you knew that,” Alastor said slowly, his smile growing tight.

“What? How would I possibly know that?” Vincent asked, his tone complete shock.

“Something to do with the strange beat-up Volvo that keeps parking across the street from my apartment? That I see parked near my work when I walk there? That I see drive by when I come here? Then suddenly, you show up? Or, was that not you?” Alastor asked.

Vincent’s friendly, innocent front didn’t budge at all.

“Sounds to me like you have a stalker on your hands,” he said brightly, holding his glass up before downing it.

Alastor’s smile twisted, then settled back in place.

“Anyway—” Alastor started.

“I did hear that your show got cancelled though,” Vincent said quickly, beaming.

Alastor bared his teeth before regaining his composure.

“It did. But I’ll get another one,” Alastor said confidently.

“I’m sure you will. In fact, I own three major networks now. I could easily dip into the radio business and get you back on the air,” Vincent said.

“I hardly need your help,” Alastor said.

“Like I asked for your help all those years ago? Well, apparently, I didn’t need it either. Except in this case, radio is a dying industry and you’ve lost your final meal ticket,” Vincent said cruelly.

“HA! Fuck you, Vin,” Alastor spat.

Vincent’s smile was bright and victorious. He’d already shaken his old mentor’s composure. Alastor must have realized it too as he excused himself to the bathroom. Vincent looked down at Alastor’s drink.

He waited until he knew that Alastor would notice him to drop a tablet in his whisky. As Alastor slid into his seat, he pushed the drink away and waved for another.

Vincent smiled into his glass.

***

“And then, he went…he went and he…fuck. Am I drunk?” Alastor slurred after two more drinks.

“You’re fine, Al. I’m going to head out. I’ll be seeing you again real soon,” Vincent said, patting Alastor on the back before steadying him so he wouldn’t fall off his stool.

Vincent waited in his car in the alleyway of the bar. Alastor was a regular here, and he didn’t want his disappearance to be traced back to him. The bartender was a friend of Alastor’s, but Vincent had a very enticing offer for him. Should he spike Alastor’s drink and bring him out to Vincent, all of his gambling debt would be forgiven, and then some.

Sure enough, the bartender exited through the back door, half guiding, half dragging Alastor before settling him into the front seat. Vincent handed him a thousand dollars.

“Consider this a tip,” Vincent said before chuckling and driving away. The bartender looked torn, and Vincent would have killed him to be sure his secret didn’t get out. But, aside from the money, Vincent had assured him that he knew where his family lived in case he got any heroic ideas.

Alastor’s eyes were closed, and he was mumbling under his breath. Every few minutes, Vincent would take a moment to touch Alastor. His face, his chest, his shoulder, his hands. Concrete proof that he had FINALLY did it.

Alastor was his.

Thoughts and fantasies ran through his mind until he finally reached his parking garage. His designated spot was right beside the elevator only he could access that went straight up to the penthouse.

There were cameras there, but the footage would be coincidentally deleted for the next two days.

***

Alastor came into consciousness slowly. His head was pounding and his mouth was dry as dirt. He was disoriented, and when he opened his eyes, the world seemed to spin until his vision evened out and he could see… a canopy. Oh fuck.

“Good morning sleeping beauty!”

Alastor had to crane his neck to see Vincent standing at the edge of the bed. He tried to tug his arms free but they were bound with silk and tied to the headboard. It was a surprisingly strong material.

“Haha, Vincent. Is this a joke? Because it’s not funny,” Alastor said. The ire rising in Alastor was smothered by the look on Vincent’s face.

Vincent laughed and Alastor turned his attention back to his bindings. He kept darting his vision back to Vincent, afraid to totally look away.

Vincent knelt on the bed and Alastor instinctively closed his legs and pulled them tight against his body.

Vincent laughed again and easily parted them, scooting up until Alastor’s legs wrapped around his waist. Alastor looked nervously down, realizing from the proximity that Vincent was hard.

“Stop. Let me go,” Alastor demanded, doing his best to glare at Vincent through the fear growing in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t sure the threat landed as Vincent ran one finger the length of his neck, tilting his chin up and baring his throat.

“No,” he said simply before getting up and moving out of Alastor’s view. Alastor heard clinks as he craned his neck as far as it would go.

“Here,” Vincent said, coming into view as he sat beside Alastor. He held a glass in his hand. Alastor turned his face away but Vincent squeezed Alastor’s jaw with one hand and tugged until his forcefully parted lips met with glass.

“Relax, I’m not drugging you. I just think this will be easier for you with at least a little buzz. We are friends after all…oh wait, that’s right. We’re not friends! I’m just a distraction to you!”

Vincent dumped the rest of the contents into Alastor’s mouth. He choked on it and coughed most of it up, painting his own face with whisky.

He heard a zipper being undone and completely abandoned his pride.

“HELP!” Alastor screamed as loud as he could. His voice was hoarse and cracking.

“Help!” Vincent screamed right along with him before devolving into laughter, Alastor quieted down and his eyes filled with tears.

“Sound proofed, baby. I like my privacy,” Vincent said, “Aw honey,” he said sweetly, thumbing away a stray tear rolling down Alastor’s cheek, “don’t cry. You’re gonna love it here. Eventually.”

“Now, don’t fret, Alastor. I do truly treasure our relationship. In light of that, I’m not going to fuck you unless you ask me nicely,” Vincent said.

Alastor bared his teeth.

“Fuck you, Vincent,” he growled.

“Ooh, touchy. See, I’m going to give you some time to reflect on how you want to spend your time here with me,” Vincent said.

He walked away and Alastor heard the door click shut. He blinked his eyes, trying to dissipate the fearful tears threatening to fall. Vincent was back too quickly.

“Let me explain this,” Vincent said, holding a large pair of headphones in one hand and some kind of intense face mask. Alastor shied away as much as he could.

“You’re going to spend some time in sensory deprivation. You won’t be able to see or hear anything. I’ll come and check on you now and again, assist you with bodily functions. When you’re ready to move forward and obey my every command, including the sexual ones, just say ‘help me daddy,’ and I’ll come to your aid.”

“Like I would fuc—”

The world went silent. Alastor realized with some fear that he couldn’t even hear his own voice. He looked up at Vincent, who was smiling and moving his mouth. Alastor tried to squirm away but soon enough; Vincent had the face mask fitted over his eyes. Alastor tried to shake it off, thrashing his body and screaming against the silence.

It didn’t matter. He couldn’t see; he couldn’t hear. His body jolted when he felt a touch on his thigh. It rubbed the spot for a moment before disappearing entirely.

Alastor pulled at the bindings on his wrists. He kicked out into nothing and screamed and screamed until his throat was sore and he still heard none of it.

Alastor floated. He knew he slept. He’d dreamed about his mother a few times. But then there was just the thick blackness engulfing him all the time. A few times he felt light touches on his body. Sometimes on his thigh, sometimes his stomach.

Sometimes those touches reached his face and Alastor arched into it, silently begging that those fingers help him; end this.

But, it never happened. He could feel himself begging, crying, but he heard nothing. Not kindness, not ridicule. Nothing.

Alastor focused on what he could; like the throbbing sound of blood rushing through the veins in his temples.

Time passed. He wasn’t sure how much but the touching had stopped. He knew himself to be making noises, but he heard nothing. He was sore, tired, thirsty. The hunger pain was actually a relief. At least it was something to focus on.

“You know how to end this.”

Alastor jerked his body toward the sound even as the headphone was replaced on his ear.

Wait, stop this. Please, help me!

Alastor screamed, unable to hear even himself.

“Help me…what? You know what to say.”

And silence.

What to say? What…what had Vincent asked? He couldn’t even remember anymore. He cried helplessly. Until he finally remembered and bit his lip bloody as he released the last shred of pride and dignity he had left.

Help me, daddy.

Alastor squinted as the mask was removed. His tear-soaked vision adjusting to the light. Then the headphones.

“Thank you,” Alastor sobbed.

“Thank me, what?”

“Thank you, daddy,” Alastor said, crying harder now.

Vincent hugged Alastor to his chest, making soothing shushing noises as he rubbed circles into his back.

“Wait here,” Vincent said before walking away.

Alastor shifted to the edge of the bed and tried to stand (noticing his arms were released), only for his legs to give out immediately as he tumbled onto the plush rug.

Vincent returned, kneeling on the floor beside Alastor. He offered a bottle of water which Alastor ripped out of his hands and chugged.

“Slow down, you’re going to—”

Alastor’s body rejected the liquid and he vomited it up onto the floor.

“See? Here,” Vincent procured another water bottle. As if he knew what would happen. He forced Alastor still with a grip on his jaw and had the man sip the water slowly. When only half the bottle was empty, he stopped.

Vincent hooked his arm under Alastor’s shoulder and half guided-half dragged Alastor into the ensuite. Alastor didn’t struggle as he was sat on the floor while Vincent filled the tub.

When Vincent began peeling the dirty clothing away, Alastor started hitting him.

“I thought we were past this. Do you need more thinking time?” Vincent threatened quietly, smiling sadistically as if he had no issue furthering Alastor’s suffering.

Alastor shook his head violently and began slowly shedding his own clothing.

It started with the scars. Alastor had a scar underneath his chest. Then when Alastor stopped, Vincent pulled his pants away to see…oh.

“Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me. You’re a woman?” he said gleefully.

Alastor scowled.

“I’m not a woman,” he said bitterly.

“You’re pussy says otherwise.  No wonder you lost everything in the end. You did get pretty far for a woman though,” Vincent said.

“I’m NOT a fucking woman,” Alastor hissed.

Vincent shrugged his shoulders.

“Fine. I’ll let you play your little game of pretend if you’d like. Makes no difference to me,” Vincent said, “just gives me one more hole to fuck.”

Alastor shook as Vincent handled him bodily into to the tub. The warm water felt nice. He shuddered at the sensation after going so long feeling nothing but cool air masked by his clothing.

Vincent cupped Alastor’s cheeks and pressed a firm kiss on his lips. Alastor pulled away but was halted by fingers tangling in his hair.

“I thought you asked for help because you were ready to be a good boy. Should we—”

Alastor leapt halfway out of the tub to kiss Vincent. He had never been in a real relationship and had never enjoyed sexual contact so he wasn’t really sure what he was doing. Vincent laughed and pulled Alastor’s hair until Alastor was seated again.

Alastor tried not to gag as Vincent’s tongue slipped past his teeth and began roaming the inside of his mouth as if trying to map it. Alastor remained limp under the invasion but Vincent didn’t seem to care. He pulled away with a smile on his face.

“Oh, Alastor. If you could see your fucking face,” he said cruelly.

Alastor narrowed his eyes, until Vincent’s smile began to fade and he quickly smiled himself. He wasn’t going back to the darkness.

That seemed to mollify Vincent, who moved away and returned with a sponge. One of those real sea-sponges. It was an odd sort of way to show luxury.

Vincent gently washed Alastor’s body. The touches were soft, but efficient. There was no hesitation until Alastor was completely clean. Then came the hair.

Alastor never liked people touching his hair. He didn’t like people touching him anywhere, actually. But he forced himself to remain still.

“Ah, Alastor. This is going to be fun, I think,” Vincent said, beaming.

He pulled Alastor unceremoniously out of the tub by his armpits and deposited him onto the bathroom floor where Alastor slipped on water and landed right on his ass.

“Moment of truth, Al. Will you be asking me to fuck you?” Vincent said.

Alastor grimaced and said nothing.

“Remember. I’m not going to fuck you until you beg,” he added.

Alastor stared nervously at the wall just beyond Vincent’s shoulder.

Vincent shrugged.

“Fine. I’m not the one who’ll suffer,” Vincent said.

He walked out of the bathroom, leaving Alastor shaking on the floor. What now? Was he going to leave him in the dark again? Could Alastor handle that? He wasn’t ready for that, but he also wasn’t ready to just completely abandon his shredded pride for Vincent’s pleasure.

Vincent returned with something behind his back. He smiled down at Alastor.

“Ready to be a good boy?” he asked sweetly.

Alastor bit his lip and remained silent. Vincent procured a cattle prod and shocked Alastor for a long, painful moment. Alastor hardly noticed it ending as his body continued to twitch.

“What about now?” Vincent asked.

Alastor opened his mouth and forgot what he was going to say as his body convulsed under another attack of the cattle prod.

When he got his bearing, he heard Vincent laughing.

“Aw, poor girl pissed herself over a little shock,” he said, cackling.

“Fuck you,” Alastor spat.

 Vincent grabbed the back of his head and forced it into the bathtub. Alastor struggled, clawing at the hand in his hair, trying to push himself with a hand of the lip of the tub.

He was pulled up quick enough that he could take a shallow breath before being plunged back in. His whole body fought to free itself but as his vision went black and he could feel the water filling his lungs, he just thanked God that it was over.

Alastor regained consciousness. He coughed up water, gagging on air. Vincent looked pleased.

“Should we do this again or are you ready to submit?” Vincent asked.

Alastor said nothing, but his whole body twitched when Vincent took a step closer.

The man’s smile looked sadistic.

“If you want this to end. If you want some semblance of life without me coming up with more creative forms of torture, you’re going to say ‘Daddy, please fuck me,’” he said.

Alastor’s skin crawled at the very idea.

“I’ve got an old panic room that I’ve cleared and set up some meat hooks you might like to spend some time on,” Vincent said.

Alastor opened his mouth and was met with a surge of electricity.

“If I hear anything but ‘daddy please fuck me’ come out of that mouth, I’m going to drown you several more times before moving on to our next option. We’ll see how many times I can actually revive you,” Vincint said, darkly.

“Ffff,” Alastor bit his lip until it bled.

“Take your time, sweetie,” Vincent said with glee in his tone.

“F—”

A wave of electricity racked Alastor. The aftershocks taking longer to dissipate now.

“Fuck me, daddy!” he cried, tears streaming down his wet cheeks.

“Fuck me daddy, what?” Vincent echoed.

“Please! Please fuck me daddy!” Alastor all but screamed. He panted, naked on the bathroom floor. He couldn’t bear to look at Vincint, to see that glee of victory cross his face.

He stumbled up when Vincint pulled him up by one arm, then gently guided Alastor back to the bed. Alastor didn’t fight as Vincint laid him down on his side, and he didn’t open his eyes until he felt a blanket covering him up to his shoulders.

He looked then, at Vincent. His smile was wide, but not cruel.

“But…” Alastor started, cut off by a finger running down his cheek.

“Good boys get to sleep comfortably. Keep being good for me, and you’ll learn to love it here,” Vincent said before walking away and turning off the lights.

“Good night, sweet boy,” he said before closing the door.

Alone, in the dark, in a comfortable bed with a warm blanket, Alastor sighed. Not in relief but in acceptance. His body shivered out the chill in his bones and he slipped quickly into unconsciousness.

***

Alastor awoke to the smell of fruit and burnt toast.

“Did I wake you? I have breakfast,” Vincent said, shutting the bedroom door behind him and carrying a tray to the bed.

Alastor sat up, careful to keep himself covered.

“Hopefully you’ll be allowed out of your room soon. You’re a much better cook than I am,” Vincent added, sitting beside Alastor on the edge of the bed and handing over the tray.

Alastor didn’t care how black the toast was, he ate all of it in three bites. The fruit went down much the same, as did the water that Vincent offered him afterward.

“My, you sure were hungry. Do you want more?” Vincent asked.

Alastor opening his mouth to ask, but stopped, knowing that if he ate too much so quickly he’d just be sick.

“I’m ok,” he said, before a chill ran up his spine and he added, “thank you.”

Vincent raised an eyebrow.

“Thank you, daddy,” he amended, his cheeks flushed with shame.

“That’s a good boy,” Vincent praised, rubbing his thumb along Alastor’s cheek.

“I think we’re really getting somewhere now. I have a gift for you,” Vincent said.

Alastor instinctively shied away as Vincent pulled a box from under the bed.

“Relax, sweetheart. It’s just clothing,” he assured.

Alastor opened the box and scowled.

“It’s pink! It’ll look beautiful with your brown hair!” Vincent said cheerfully.

Alastor held up the lacy pink lingerie with disgust.

“I’m not a woman,” he mumbled, mostly for his own sanity.

“Semantics, Alastor. You can play pretend with everyone else, but I know you. All those years I thought I was the problem when it turned out that you were just a prissy bitch,” Vincent said.

Alastor growled and crumpled the material, getting ready to throw it in Vincent’s face, until Vincent started to frown. Then Alastor’s heart began to race and he backtracked.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “daddy,” he added quickly.

Vincent’s smile returned.

“I’m going to work. I have cameras in here so I expect you to be a good boy. You can read the books I’ve provided you on the desk and you must leave this outfit on. I will be speaking to you over intercom and so long as you do everything I say, you’ll get dinner. If not…we can revisit things that I don’t think you want to revisit,” Vincent said darkly.

Alastor swallowed as his mouth ran dry.

“Yes, daddy,” he said, that last string of pride almost completely broken. Almost.

“Good boy. Have a nice day. I’ll be in contact,” Vincent said.

The door shut and Alastor looked down at the lingerie in disgust. Still, he forced himself to slide on the panties and don the flowy top. He walked into the ensuite and stared at himself in the big mirror.

Disgusted, he punched the mirror. He pulled his hand back quickly. The glass didn’t break, but his blood was smeared across its surface. He punched it again and again. The more blood covering the surface, the more control he felt.

He didn’t stop until he broke his knuckle in a sickening crack. He cradled his hand and scowled at the person facing him through a haze of red.

Weak. Pathetic.

He returned to the bedroom, dismissing the pile of books on the desk in the corner. Instead, he laid on the bed and hid his face in a pillow so he could cry in private.

***

Alastor.

Alastor woke up to the staticky intercom.

“Vincent?” he asked.

There was a long silence.

“Daddy?” Alastor said quietly.

Yes, sweet heart. I’m stuck at work, but I felt like maybe we can have a bit of fun.

Alastor remained silent. Vincent continued unperturbed.

I need you to scoot down the bed and hold your knees over your chest.

Alastor followed the order with his eyes closed against the humiliation.

Have you ever touched yourself before?

Alastor nodded in shame. He’d been curious, but never found much pleasure in, well, pleasuring himself.

Do it

Alastor bit his lip, swallowing the litany of curses he wanted to hurl at Vincent. Instead, he pressed his fingers against his clit, rubbing himself over his panties.

That’s it, baby. Press harder.

Alastor obeyed and felt a traitorous spike of pleasure. It was bitter and unwanted, but it was there.

We’re not stopping until you come, sweetie.

Alastor rubbed quick circles against his clit. His back arched with pleasure until he closed his eyes and moaned his release. He collapsed back down with tears running down his face.

Oh, good boy. Expect a treat when I come home.

Alastor waited, motionless. But Vincent’s voice was gone and Alastor was left with the aftershocks of an orgasm that he didn’t want.

***

“Alastor, wake up baby.”

Alastor blinked the sleep from his eyes and gazed up at Vincent, smiling down at him gently.

“Vin—Daddy,” he corrected himself. The mirth in Vincent’s eyes made Alastor’s blood boil.

“I brought dinner for us,” Vincent said, holding up a bag of take-out.

Vincent sat on the bed beside Alastor, making a plate for each of them. Alastor took his.

“What is this?” he asked.

“It’s deer liver,” Vincent responded.

“I know, I mean…what’s this for?” Alastor asked.

“I told you when you were a good boy you would get treats, didn’t I? Well, here’s a treat,” Vincent responded.

Alastor looked silently down at the food. He took a bite. Of course it was delicious. He ate the food ravenously, temporarily distracted by the obviously high-quality meat. When he was done, he looked down at his hands.

“So, what would you like to do now?” Vincent asked.

Alastor knew exactly what he was asking for. He tried to form the words but his whole body rejected it.

“I could draw a bath if—”

“Please fuck me!” Alastor shouted, covering his mouth with his hands as if he couldn’t believe what he had just said. The alternative was so much worse.

“Since you beg so nicely…” Vincent said with sadistic glee.

Despite his tone, the hands he placed on Alastor easing him onto his back were oddly gentle. Even as they slipped beneath the clothing and explored Alastor’s bare skin. The touches made Alastor feel funny. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but his body wasn’t reacting in tactile disgust.

While one hand massaged Alastor’s breast, the other dipped down between his legs. Two fingers pressed firmly against his clit and it was like a switch was pulled.

A surge of warmth broke through the disgust and Alastor shut his eyes in denial.

“So responsive,” Vincent commented, “stay with me baby.”

Vincent paid a lot of attention to that sensitive spot, smiling at every aborted sound Alastor made. When Vincent’s fingers dipped down further and easily slid into Alastor’s wet pussy, Alastor couldn’t deny his arousal.

It shook Alastor to his very core that he was experience enough pleasure to actually be wet. He wanted rough. He wanted Vincent to hold him down and shove his dick into his pussy with no lubrication, natural or otherwise.

He wanted the bed to be soaked with non-consensual blood. He wanted pain for days on end, not stolen pleasure and soft kisses.

After a third finger eased the way, Vincent slotted himself between Alastor’s legs, lifting his knees to his chest.

“Are you ready baby?” Vincent said, his breathing uneven.

“Wait, I could get—”

Vincent pushed himself slowly into Alastor. The stretch burned and the words died on Alastor’s tongue. Vincent was big. Bigger than a few fingers, that was for sure.

“Breathe, baby. That’s it,” Vincent praised.

Alastor had no idea what to do with his hands. He wrapped his arms around Vincent in an attempt to ground himself. He felt tears filling his eyes as he lost the virginity he never thought he cared about until now.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Vincent breathed against his neck, practically bending him in half.

Alastor paced his breathing around the rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh. The pace went faster; with every deep thrust, it felt like Vincent was trying to fit his entire being inside of Alastor. Finally, Vincent’s thrusts became erratic and he spilled hot seed inside of Alastor.

“Wait,” Alastor’s voice was hoarse, “I could get pregnant.”

Vincent shot him a toothy smile.

“Don’t want a baby to take care of? Maybe that would domesticate you,” Vincent said.

“Pl…daddy please,” Alastor swallowed the shame, hoping to play on Vincent’s ego.

It seemed to work as that dark sadism shone in his eyes.

Vincent stood and walked to the bag that had contained the food. He pulled something out and tossed it on the bed. Alastor picked it up.

“Plan B?” he asked, relief washing over him.

“And some birth control for you. I don’t do condoms,” Vincent said, ever the egotistical white man.

Alastor released a shaky sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” he said from a place of honesty.

“Anything for you, baby,” Vincent replied, walking over and planting a kiss on Alastor’s forehead.

He stripped the remainder of his clothes and lay on the bed, pulling Alastor against his chest as he relaxed into sleep.

Alastor remained awake long after Vincent’s breathing had evened out into a pattern of sleep. He cried. He was pathetic. Vincent, the pompous asshole had broken him in an embarrassing amount of time.

This was his fault. There were so many things that he could have done differently. He could have given Vincent his chance all those years ago. He could have admitted to Vincent that he had missed him after everything. He could have fought harder. He could have…done something differently.

 With a headache and dried up tear ducts, Alastor fell asleep.

***

Alastor woke up alone in bed. Vincent wasn’t there; his warmth already gone from the bed. Alastor sighed in relief and tried to sit up, only to be stopped as his arms were once again bound to the headboard.

He struggled for a few minutes before collapsing back down in defeat. He glanced over and saw a note on the bedside table just in arms-length. He reached over an picked it up by his very fingertips.

Be a good boy and stay put. You’ll be rewarded later if you don’t act out.

Alastor huffed. Like he could do anything tied like this, let alone ‘act out’.

He closed his eyes and tried to fall back asleep.

***

When Alastor woke, it was dark outside. Vincent wasn’t there, but he would be soon. Alastor looked back at his bindings, then to the bathroom. He crossed his legs as he felt his bladder was full.

Had Vincent let him go this morning, he would be able to hold it better. But Alastor was stuck and could do nothing but keep his mind off of it.

“Baby, I’m home,” Vincent said, entering the bedroom with little fanfare.

“Vincent, please untie me,” Alastor asked.

“Daddy,” he quickly corrected himself as Vincent’s expression turned dark. That worked and he cheered back up.

“Not yet, honey. You in a rush?” he asked.

“I, um. I have to use the bathroom,” Alastor said.

Vincent’s smile was blinding.

“Oh? Poor little girl can’t hold her bladder?” he asked mockingly.

Alastor flushed in embarrassment.

Vincent abandoned his bag on the floor and closed the distance between them. He knelt on the bed and shifted until he could kneel between Alastor’s legs. He held Alastor’s hips wide open as he prodded his bladder gently.

Alastor hissed and tried to cross his legs, but remained stuck. Vincent stuck a finger inside his own mouth and pressed it to Alastor’s clit. He massaged a few circles there, eliciting a gasp from Alastor, before moving on and pressing his way into Alastor’s hole.

“Vi—daddy please stop,” Alastor said, shaking.

Vincent ignore him. He continued his invasion despite Alastor’s condition. In fact, after a few seconds of pleasureless contact, Vincent used his other hand to press down, hard, on Alastor’s lower belly.

Alastor cried out as he couldn’t hold the piss in anymore. It flowed out, onto the mattress, onto Vincent’s fingers which didn’t move at all except to continue thrusting into his pussy.

The relief felt almost sexual and he sighed. Until it hit him and he closed his eyes, absolutely mortified.

“Aw, don’t cry honey. You’re fine. It’s only to be expected.

Alastor bit his tongue as he realized that this had been planned.

Alastor had forgotten about Vincent’s exploring finger until another one was added. It burned, lubricated only by Vincent’s saliva and Alastor’s urine. This was what he wanted. He wanted it to hurt.

Which is why he whined when Vincent pulled out lube.

“It’s ok baby. I’m not gonna hurt you,” Vincent said soothingly.

Alastor was glad his hands were tied or he’d claw that smile off of Vincent’s face.

Alastor shuddered as he felt cool slick pressing against his pussy. Two fingers were back, pushing and scissoring to make way for the main course. Alastor blushed as Vincent leaned over to kiss Alastor’s stomach, then moved lower to lick his clit.

Alastor gasped at the sensation. Vincent was relentless. He licked, and pressed his tongue against that sweet spot until Alastor felt a wave of pleasure heat his body. He couldn’t hold back a long, soft moan.

“Yeah, baby. That’s what I like to hear,” Vincent said, obviously proud of himself.

Alastor just looked away so Vincent wouldn’t see his scowl. Vincent pinched Alastor’s cheek, hard, until he faced him again.

“Don’t look away. Look at me,” he said, a sultry growl in his voice.

Alastor obeyed. His eyes fluttered as he felt Vincent’s blunt cock pressing inside his pussy; the wet sound a terrible reminder that he was enjoying this.

Small sounds were punched out of Alastor as Vincent pushed deeper inside of him with every thrust. His body began to feel strange. The buildup was delicious and soon, Alastor welcomed Vincent’s ministrations.

Alastor groaned, about to orgasm when Vincent pulled out and sat back, making no physical contact.

“What?” Alastor asked, disoriented by being so close to completion only to have it taken away.

Just as quickly as he stopped, Vincent was back on Alastor, fucking him hard. He even massaged Alastor’s clit with a finger. Again, Alastor felt the beginnings of orgasm and Vincent pulled away.

“Why?” Alastor asked helplessly.

“Good boys ask for what they want,” Vincent said.

Vincent was back on him, and again, he stopped before Alastor could release.

“You know what you need to say to me, baby,” Vincent said.

Alastor felt overwhelmed to the point of tears.

“Daddy, please let me come,” he said, desperate for this torment to end.

“Good boy,” Vincent said.

He pounded into Alastor with abandon. Alastor could feel the heat of Vincent’s dick inside of him; could hear the slap of flesh parting and meeting. He felt the buildup again, except this time, Vincent wasn’t pulling back.

Alastor shuddered through his release. Vincent gasped.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he said. He pushed in a few more times, then pulled his dick out, spilling his seed across Alastor’s stomach.

“Fuck,” Vincent said, scooping some of the cum with his finger and feeding it to Alastor. Alastor didn’t fight it. He opened his mouth and accepted the salty cum on his tongue.

“Good boy,” Vincent praised. Alastor just waited for permission to scrub this encounter off his skin.

***

Vincent was bored. He’d spent the last half hour with a senator talking his ear off about some foundation he wanted donations for. There was no foundation. He knew it, Vincent knew it, fuck, half the people in this stupid Gala knew it.

But, keeping politicians’ greed fed kept his business going without close inspection.

He glanced down at his phone. Alastor was just sitting on the bed, staring at the wall. He seemed to do that a lot now.

“Mr. Whittman.”

“Ah, Mr. Morningstar. You may call me Vincent,” Vincent said cheerfully, shaking the shorter man’s hand.

“Lucifer is fine,” he replied. He looked Vincent up and down so quickly, Vincent wasn’t even sure it happened.

“I have, sort of an odd problem that I’ve encountered,” Lucifer said.

Vincent smiled. He could tell when someone was fishing.

“Anything I can help you with?” Vincent asked cheerfully.

“I’m not sure. You see, my daughter opened a hotel last year. She finally got it up and running about six months ago. She had a lot of people help her. But something odd happened. The host of her hotel, loyal from the start, suddenly disappeared about three months ago. No one knows where he is,” Lucifer said.

Vincent felt his breath catch in his throat but he quickly masked it.

“That’s quite the dilemma. I’m not sure how I can help you with it though,” Vincent said.

“His name is Alastor. I am under the impression that you were friends once,” Lucifer said.

Vincent had no earthly idea how he knew that.

“Yes, Alastor and I were very close once upon a time. But, alas, I haven’t seen him in years,” Vincent said.

“Hmm,” Lucifer looked doubtful for a moment before smiling back up at him.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” he said.

Vincent smiled brightly before heading to the bathroom. The second he turned the corner he scowled. He left his phone untouched, now unsure of whether he was being watched on camera.

“Fuck,” he growled quietly to himself.

It was probably fine. Right? Lucifer was testing him. He had no clue. There was just no way he would know.

Vincent was very drunk when he arrived home. He wasn’t drunk from the party, that would be disastrous. He went to a high-end bar and drank with beautiful men and women.

He went straight to Alastor’s room. It took him a minute to fumble with the lock until it opened. When he made it in, he saw Alastor looking at him from where he sat on the bed.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” Vincent slurred.

Alastor shied away, pushing his back against the headboard and turning his focus to his hands.

Vincent frowned. It wasn’t enough. This whole situation was Alastor’s fault. Maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole, Vincent wouldn’t have even been in this situation. Maybe they could have been friends.

But even that idea disgusted him in this moment.

He stormed over to the bed, grabbed Alastor by his hair and threw him onto the floor.

Alastor laded hard on his shoulder and looked up at Vincent. He looked scared; like a deer in headlights. That pissed Vincent off more.

“Fuck you, Alastor,” he growled, kicking him in the stomach. Then kicking again and again. On his stomach, his back, even a good one in his face.

After a few hits, Vincent calmed down enough to realize that what he was doing was counter-productive.

That fucking Lucifer.

Vincent left without a backward glance.

***

Alastor lay on the floor, blood staining his dress, quaking in the aftershock of what just happened. Why? He’d been doing everything right. Wasn’t he? Had he called Vincent by his name? No, he hadn’t made that mistake in at least a month.

Was there some sort of command that he missed? But how could he? Vincent’s voice was always clear through whatever speakers he’d set up in the room.

Either way, Alastor crawled to the bathroom. He stood on shaky legs, supporting himself on the edge of the tub. He looked in the mirror.

Blood was pouring from his nose as well as from his lip where he had accidentally bit himself. He touched his nose then immediately pulled his hand away. It looked broken. Fuck. What had just happened?

Did this mean torture was back on the table? He couldn’t. Alastor couldn’t do it again. He’d decided to obey, and he did. But then what was happening!

Alastor sunk down with his back to the tub. He was sleepy and his vision was iffy. He wondered if he had a concussion. He sighed and tried to stay vigilant. He stared at the bathroom door, praying that Vincent wouldn’t come back.

***

Vincent woke up the next morning next to an empty bottle of vodka. His head was pounding and he puked onto his expensive Persian rug.

“Fuck.”

He hadn’t been this hung over since college. He took a hangover cocktail of prescription pain and nausea medications. He laid on his back until his insides settled. What happened? He remembered going to the gala. He ran into that Morningstar prick. Then he came home and…fuck!

Vincent pulled the footage of last night, which confirmed the atrocities he had committed to Alastor. When he pulled the current feed, he saw Alastor slumped against the tub, seemingly asleep.

He wasn’t sure how to handle this. He’d been so very careful with the way he had been grooming Alastor. This whole episode could have completely fucked his plan up. He wanted Alastor to trust him, to love him.

How could you love someone after they beat the shit out of you for no reason?

***

“Alastor.”

Alastor woke up quickly. When had he fallen asleep? He couldn’t stop the tears from falling as he raised his hands defensively.

“I’m sorry daddy,” he sobbed. He cringed when Vincent knelt down before him.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. What I did was inexcusable, but please forgive me,” Vincent said.

He touched Alastor’s hair, and Alastor shied away.

“Why did you…” Alastor was shaking now. He couldn’t stop the fear he now felt in his core.

“I’m sorry. I got worked up. Do you know Lucifer Morningstar?” Vincent asked.

Lucifer? Alastor stopped crying. Did Lucifer know? Was he looking for him? A small shred of hope grew in his chest. He forgot about Vincent until he felt a hand on his cheek.

“It’s ok. He’s no one you need to know,” Vincent said, completely misinterpreting his silence.

“Ok, daddy,” Alastor said.

“Can you forgive me for this?” Vincent asked.

Alastor frowned. No.

“Of course, daddy,” he said, his voice still a little shaky.

Vincent hugged Alastor before scooping him up and walking him back to the bed. He laid him down gently, and pulled the covers up to the bottom of his chin.

“Get some more sleep, baby,” Vincent said, “It couldn’t have been comfortable sleeping on the floor.”

“Yes, thank you daddy,” Alastor said.

Vincent kissed his forehead and walked out of the room. Alastor knew the cameras were watching, so he turned on his side and pressed into the pillow to hide his smile.

Lucifer was an extremely competent man. That and his bold personality attracted Alastor to him. He never questioned that attraction before running into Vincent. It was a sort of background thought.

But now? Knowing that Lucifer may or may not come to his rescue? His heart began to swell.

He fell asleep with a warm glow.

***

“Alastor,” Vincent said quietly, stepping into Alastor’s bedroom.

He watched the covers shift until Alastor’s head popped into view. He walked over and sat on the bed. He didn’t blame Alastor for the subtle way his body shied away from him.

“Baby, I just feel awful. I want to do something nice for you,” he said.

Alastor stared blankly at him. It was a look that Vincent was becoming familiar with. It was an empty sort of look. Vincent didn’t mind, though he liked seeing Alastor’s emotions plainly. He couldn’t slight Alastor for it. He was extremely compliant.

“Yes, daddy?” Alastor said, obediently.

Vincent smiled.

“Come out here, honey,” Vincent said sweetly. Alastor hesitated only a moment before pushing the covers down to his thighs. Vincent pressed a hand against Alastor’s chest to keep him from sitting up. He slotted himself between Alastor’s legs and kissed his stomach.

Alastor’s breathing hitched. Vincent couldn’t tell if it was anxiety or pleasure. It didn’t matter. Alastor was going to be feeling nothing but pleasure soon enough.

Vincent kissed his way down until he pressed a firm kiss on Alastor’s clit.

“Ah, what are you doing?” Alastor asked breathlessly.

“I’m making you feel good. You’re such a good boy; you deserve this,” Vincent said.

Vincent licked a stripe from Alastor’s vagina up to his clit. He spend some time massaging Alastor’s clit with his tongue, until Alastor was visibly shaking beneath him. He smiled and turned his attention back to Alastor’s hole, pressing his tongue inside and massaging the walls as deep as he could.

Alastor was making little noises now. It was like he was trying to stay silent but simply couldn’t hold back. It stroked Vincent’s ego something fierce.

“Ah, daddy,” Alastor said breathlessly.

Vincent stopped and looked up at him.

“What do you need, baby,” he teased.

“I…I don’t know,” Alastor said. He was trying to hide his face. He was beet red.

“I do,” Vincent said before focusing his full attention on Alastor’s clit.

“Ah! Daddy, I, ah!” Alastor’s legs shook as he was pushed over the edge.

Vincent licked his lips and shifted so he could kiss Alastor’s bared throat.

“You’re such a good boy,” Vincent said as Alastor’s breathing came back to normal.

Vincent huffed, the look on Alastor’s face making him oh so very hard. As Alastor came down from his high, he started to look unsure. Vincent kissed him, pumping his cock until he painted his seed onto Alastor’s pussy. The sight of it send a wave of pleasure through Vincent’s body.

“Fuck, baby. You’re beautiful,” Vincent said.

Alastor opened his mouth like he was going to say something but closed it again.

Vincent ran his fingers through Alastor’s hair.

“Why don’t you take a nice, hot bath? I have some work to do. I’ll be back in for dinner, ok?” Vincent said.

“Yes, daddy,” Alastor responded.

Vincent frowned slightly. He missed the backtalk. But, this is what he wanted; his perfect pet. He kissed Alastor’s forehead before fixing himself and leaving.

He didn’t notice the scowl on Alastor’s face as he left.

***

Alastor drew a hot bath, as suggested, and sat gently into the water. He sighed at the warmth surrounding him.

Vincent was clearly sorry for beating Alastor, but what was that worth? Who’s to say he wouldn’t just get drunk and do it again? No. This was the final straw. He needed to get out.

But how? Lucifer was obviously the answer, but how in God’s name could Alastor tell him where he was? And did he suspect Vincent? Because why else would Vincent get so mad over it?

He needed…Vincent’s phone. Yes. He knew Lucifer’s phone number as the emergency contact for the hotel. If he could just send a message…

But Vincent would never be so careless. He barely ever stayed the night with Alastor, and if Alastor simply stole it there would be no way of returning it before Vincent noticed. Which meant Vincent would have to stay the night as well as let his guard down.

***

“Daddy?” Alastor asked. Vincent was sitting at the desk in the room going over some sort of paperwork. He seemed to be in a good enough mood.

“Yes, baby boy?” Vincent said, spinning in his chair to face Alastor. Alastor closed his book.

“I was thinking that we could have some wine? With dinner?” he asked hesitantly.

“You want to drink? Wouldn’t you like whisky better?” Vincent asked.

Alastor didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure where his best route would be.

“Leave it to me, baby. What kind of food do you want?” Vincent asked.

“Whatever you want, daddy,” Alastor said, the words tumbling smoothly off his tongue. He often hated himself for how easily he submitted.  

***

That night, Alastor waited nervously for Vincent’s arrival.

“Hey, baby. Come with me,” Vincent said, opening the door.

Alastor sat frozen on the bed. Was this a trick? A trap? Vincent had never allowed him outside his room.

“Really, come here. There’s a beautiful view of the city from the dining room,” Vincent said.

He walked over and offered his hand to Alastor. Alastor hesitated one more moment before allowing Vincent to guide him out of the room and down a long hallway. As he said, in the dining room the wall was replaced by window and he had a clear view of the dark buildings littered with lights.

Vincent sat Alastor down and took the seat beside him. There was already a plate of spaghetti in front of him. He looked up at Vincent, who smiled fondly at him. Alastor held tight to the twist of disgust he felt.

“It’s bolognese form Sharon’s. You’ll like it,” Vinent assured him.

Alastor took a bite as well as a sip of wine. Pinot Noir.

“It’s delicious, thank you daddy,” Alastor said, almost too nervous to eat but forcing himself to anyway.

He paid close attention to every sip of wine Vincent took. It was like if he stared harder, Vincent would get drunk faster. Alastor took the wine glass to his lips but didn’t drink each time. He wanted Vincent to perceive that Alastor was drinking a lot without getting drunk himself.

Because he had one shot at this.

***

Hours passed, and Alastor was beginning to feel a little tipsy himself. Vincent was drunk enough that Alastor could make his move.

He looked down at Vincent’s pocket. What was the best way to get the phone. There would need to be a distraction. He could…fuck.

Alastor kissed Vincent gently.

“I want to do something for you,” he said.

“Wha—”

Vincent cut off when Alastor sank to his knees between Vincent’s parted thighs. He undid the zipper and button and pulled Vincent’s half-hard cock from his pants. He licked it, trying to decide whether the disgust was from the taste or the action.

Spit slipped down his chin as he did his best to pleasure Vincent. He coughed and gagged in his inexperience, and he kept his eyes shut tight until he tasted salty cum on his tongue. He pulled off, coughing once. He made a point of meeting Vincent’s gaze as he swallowed his cum.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Vincent said, pulling Alastor onto his lap.

He hugged Alastor close. Alastor placed his hands strategically so he could feel for the phone without appearing to be searching. He touched Vincent’s right back pocket as if looking to stabilize himself. Sure enough, the phone was there.

Vincent guided Alastor onto his own chair.

“I’ll get us some whisky, baby,” Vincent said before walking away.

Alastor, feeling bold from the wine he drank, walked away from the dining table. He found a few lounge chairs beside an electric fire place and took a seat. When he returned, it took Vincent a long moment to realize where Alastor had gone. When he did, he smiled brightly.

Vincent placed the whisky decanter and two glasses on a side table.

“You get first pour,” Vincent said, sitting down beside Alastor.

Alastor poured them each a glass.

And another.

And another.

And another

“Ah, Al. In a way, I’m happy you turned your back on our friendship. We would never be…this way together,” Vincent slurred.

“Yes, daddy,” Alastor said, feeling drunk himself but trying to focus on his mission.

“You’re such a…such a good girl,” Vincent said.

“Daddy, will you sleep with me tonight?” Alastor asked.

Vincent looked surprised, a subtle note of distrust crossing his expression.

“You never ask me to sleep in your room,” he said.

“I feel like it,” Alastor said, being sure to slur his words slightly. It seemed to work as Vincent smiled and stood.

“Come on, baby girl,” he said, pulling Alastor up and walking back to the room.

The door closed and Alastor felt oddly comfortable in this familiar setting. Vincent hugged him from behind, his weight heavy on Alastor’s shoulders.

“Let’s go to sleep, baby. I’m just very…tired,” Vincent said.

Alastor touched Vincent’s arms wrapped around his waist. Vincent released him and they walked hand and hand to the bed. Vincent shed his clothing and pulled Alastor’s dress off, depositing it on the floor.

Vincent curled around Alastor and was asleep almost instantly.

Alastor remained still for a long half hour; being sure that Vincent was down for the count. He slowly pulled himself away, prepared with an excuse that he needed to use the bathroom.

Vincent didn’t budge as Alastor walked carefully to his discarded clothing. He reached into the pocket, in disbelief as he pulled out the phone. He listened intently, but Vincent’s breathing was even.

He typed Lucifer’s number from memory and sent a simple message.

Help me. A.

The second the message sent, Alastor deleted it. He quickly returned the phone and slid back into bed.

***

Vincent was gone when Alastor woke up. He began to feel anxious that Vincent knew what he did, but he couldn’t help but think that he would already be facing punishment. Unless he wanted him to sit in this fear first?

Fuck.

He stressed until he found a note on the pillow beside him.

Take a bath and have a relaxing day. I’ll be home late tonight.

Alastor sighed in relief.

He looked around and headed to the bathroom. He did need a bath.

***

Lucifer looked down at his phone for the millionth time. Vincent, that fucker. At least now he knew where Alastor was, but how was he going to get him out of there.

This was a tricky situation. On one hand, if he extracted Alastor there was nothing that Vincent could do without revealing his role in his disappearance. And kidnapping didn’t do much for public image.

If he saved Alastor, he’d also need to protect him from retaliation. Money can buy suffering. Was Lucifer willing to deal with that? Take him under his wing and protect him? Did Lucifer even like Alastor enough to be tied to him like that?

He ran each possible scenario over in his mind again and again. What he could do. What role he would need to take on. What trust must be established.

He surprised himself by deciding that Alastor was useful enough to keep close.

He pulled out his phone. He needed to make a few calls.

***

Vincent wasn’t an idiot. Someone was following him. The very same person that Vincent had following Alastor, as a matter of fact. He was disappointed at how greatly this stalker underestimated him. Now he knew how Alastor might have felt.

Alastor.

Vincent had a sinking feeling that he had somehow been betrayed. How Alastor could have reached out for help, he didn’t know. In the end, it didn’t matter. Alastor was his. No one was taking him away from Vincent.

He checked the cameras and saw Alastor in the bath. He appeared to be sleeping. Vincent was so shocked that he hadn’t accidentally drowned himself doing that. He looked at Alastor’s still form for a few long minutes.

He slid his phone away.

“Ethan, I’m going home for lunch,” Vincent said, standing up as Ethan quickly grabbed his jacket and helped him slide into it.

“Are you sure? You have a meeting at 2,” Ethan said nervously.

“I’ll be back. I have two hours,” Vincent said.

***

Vincent pulled into his spot and took the elevator up to the penthouse. He let himself in and went straight to the bathroom.

“Alastor.”

Alastor flailed his arms, sinking into the water before pulling himself up and spinning to face Vincent, shock in his eyes.

“What time is it?” he asked nervously.

“It’s about 12:30,” Vincent said.

“Oh, ok,” Alastor said, “Sorry, I must have fallen asleep.”

Vincent chucked, fondness twisting in his chest. He walked over and ran his hands gently through Alastor’s wet hair.

“Come on out, baby, I brought us sandwiches,” Vincent said.

Vincent left Alastor’s door open and took the food to the dining room. Alastor came out in the baby blue silk dress that Vincent loved.

“I got your favorite,” Vincent said.

Alastor perked up and accepted the chicken caesar wrap. He ate quietly, having a hard time meeting Vincent’s eye.

“You seem nervous,” Vincent observed.

Alastor froze.

“Ah, sorry. I’m just very tired,” Alastor said.

“Hmm,” Vincent didn’t sound convinced.

“Well, you don’t leave me any other choice here,” Vincent said.

Alastor tensed as Vincent stood. He walked over and pulled Alastor off his chair by his hair. He dragged him a few feet before letting go. He kicked Alastor in the stomach. Alastor curled in on himself.

“Who knows you’re here?” Vincent asked calmly.

“I don’t know,” Alastor cried out.

Vincent kicked him twice more before lifting Alastor once more by the hair and shoving him face-first against the wall.

“Do not lie to me, baby,” Vincent hissed.

“Daddy I’m sorry, I don’t know,” Alastor whined, tears flowing down his cheeks.

Vincent pulled out his dick with one hand and hiked up Alastor’s dress with the other, resting it against Alastor’s back, pinning him to the wall.

“Daddy,” Alastor whined. Vincent shoved his dick into Alastor’s pussy and he screamed. It was too tight even for Vincent. Once the blood started flowing, it was easier fucking from there.

Vincent funneled all of his rage into Alastor’s shaking body. This was his fault, somehow. He knew it.

Vincent came with a satisfied groan. Alastor was crying quietly and he sunk to the floor when he was released.

“Get up,” Vincent said. He waited a beat and when Alastor remained sitting, he pulled his hair once more.

He dragged Alastor, screaming all the way to the bedroom. Vincent released him on the floor.

“I’m sorry daddy,” Alastor cried.

“For what?” Vincent asked.

“I…I don’t know,” Alastor said, sniffling.

“Traitor. You want to leave, don’t you,” Vincent asked, enraged.

“N. No. Of course not, daddy,” Alastor said.

“Ha. Well, someone is looking for you,” Vincent said.

Alastor paused. It was a quick reaction but Vincent noticed.

“No one will ever save you. You’re not worth saving,” Vincent said.

“Daddy, I—”

“Go clean yourself up,” Vincent said before walking out and slamming the door behind him.

***

Alastor stood under the shower, trying to clean the blood and cum dripping down his thighs. Did this mean it worked? Had he Lucifer actually gotten his message and understood it?

He smiled, despite the tears and the pain radiating from all over.

***

Lucifer looked down at his phone and laughed. He watched Vincent storm from the entrance to his penthouse to his car. He looked pissed.

That could only mean he was aware of his cheap ass private investigator. Good. Lucifer wanted to make Vincent mad, keep him on his toes. This was just as much to shove that asshole down a few pegs as it was to help Alastor.

After this, Alastor would need friends in high places to avoid Vincent’s wrath. He could be that for him, if he played nice. His daughter seemed to like him and she was a good judge of character.

He made a phone call.

***

Alastor stared at the wall. He hadn’t moved at all since he sat back down on the bed. He needed to just shut down, escape everything, even his own mind. So, he sat and stared.

His jumped when he heard a door slam. His heart began to race and he scooched up to the headboard. He hugged his knees, trying to look small. He heard doors crashing getting louder and louder until the door to his room burst opened.

Alastor closed his eyes, holding on to the few seconds he had before Vincent was on him.

“Alastor?”

Alastor’s eyes shot open. Lucifer was sitting on the bed beside him.

“Lu…” he looked up at the two, very large men waiting by the door.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“You asked me here,” Lucifer said with a smile.

“Well, yeah but I wasn’t sure that…” Alastor trailed off.

“Can we…can we leave?” Alastor asked hesitantly.

“Of course,” Lucifer said gently, taking Alastor by the hand and guiding him out.

They walked down the hall, past the dining room, the kitchen, the living room. The closer they got to the door the more nervous Alastor felt.

Was this real? Was he dreaming?

They finally stepped into the elevator. When they stepped out into the parking lot, Alastor started to cry again.

“What’s wrong?” Lucifer asked, worry in his tone.

“Fresh air,” Alastor said before taking a deep breath and wiping away the tears.

Alastor was ushered into a big black car. Lucifer sat beside him in the backseat. It was only then that he realized he was still wearing a dress. He felt his cheeks flush in shame.

“So, what now?” Alastor asked.

“Now?” Lucifer looked up and smiled at him, “You have a hotel to host.”