With her free hand, Hades brushed her fingertips over Persephone’s cheek. She leaned in and briefly grazed Persephone’s lower lip with her teeth, drawing it into her mouth before releasing it. “Do not cry, dear one,” she said, her voice a throaty whisper. “Your body was made by the gods to receive pleasure.”

That was true of even the lowest slave, but it didn’t make pleasurable the touch of the whip. Still, Persephone could not deny that she felt... something.

Hades withdrew suddenly, leaving an empty void that yearned to be filled. She rolled Persephone onto her side and slipped behind her, one arm snaking around Persephone’s waist and holding her tightly as the fingers of her other hand resumed their duty, three fingers thrusting inside and her thumb stroking her on the outside.

The press of Hades’ naked body against her own made her skin crawl. It was disturbing how closely they fit together, as though she’d been destined for this marriage bed. To peak again would be a betrayal by her own body, as though it were tacitly accepting Hades’ sovereignty. She couldn’t give her the satisfaction.

“No. I’m sore,” she said, kicking her heels against Hades’ shins. “You have to stop.”

Hades pressed her lips against Persephone’s ear. “Just for that, I shall continue after you finish.”

Persephone turned her head and blindly lunged. She caught Hades’ earlobe with her teeth and bit down, then recoiled in shock when ichor spilled into her mouth.

Hades only laughed and rolled Persephone onto her back once more. “Is that enough, or should I muzzle you?”

“Go to—” Persephone paused. All the usual curses didn’t quite work in the underworld.

”Oh, my dear one. I have something for you.”

Hades withdrew from the bed, leaving her aching and hollow. She returned, not with a muzzle, as Persephone had feared, but with something far more sinister.

In the dark, she did not know the shape of it until its head bumped into the inside of her thigh as Hades settled back down on the bed. She shrieked in horror, trying to press her knees together, but Hades roughly spread them, drawing them up and apart.

“Shh. The servants might think I have turned murderous and burst in with the hopes of rescuing you.”

“That’s not funny!” Persephone said. Her voice broke into a strangled whimper as Hades entered her again, not with her fingers this time, but with a leather phallus that she’d belted on like a loincloth. The stretch was worse than before, as her recently virginal body struggled to accommodate such girth.

“Good girl,” Hades murmured. She ran her hands over Persephone’s breasts and stomach, feeling through her palms every time Persephone flinched at a particularly violent thrust.