Miss Diva had a secret.  One she’d kept locked away for two decades of her life, but gnawed nearly every one of those days.  It was more than just a mere fascination, but had simmered down from the full-blown obsession that eclipsed her youth.  Yet, it still guided the trajectory of her life.  It was what landed her in the office of the youngest son of Sparda.  It was what landed her in the bed of the eldest.  She had a secret, and after all these years, Vergil was the first to know.

Once upon a time, when she was just a girl, tragedy befell her household.  Her mother, her loving, patient mother, who was once so full of light and life, passed away.  The woman had been sick for the last few years of Diva’s life, so it wasn’t much of a surprise, but it left a gaping wound in the young girl’s heart.  She was fragile, vulnerable.  Her father, though a priest, was not a warm and loving man like her mother had been.  He did not confront his own grief; he merely immersed himself in his work and left the girl to sort out this misfortune on her own.  His advice to pray over it and move on wounded her more than the initial loss.  Thus, she was an easy target for the evil that followed her father home from his duties.  Nearly a year after her mother’s passing, she became a vessel.  A demon possessed her.

The changes at first were subtle.  Many of her behavioral changes, such as her defiance and aggression, were chalked up to grief and puberty.  The demon remained in her for months, and may have lasted longer if not for the physical changes cluing others in that something was not right inside of Diva.  Her hair, once chestnut, darkened.  This, too, was believed to be puberty until it took on a hue the color of wine.  By the time the truth was discovered, the demon was far more powerful than an ordinary man could confront.

There was not much to be said about that period of time for Diva.  There was much of it she did not recall, but she was not completely out of it.  What she did remember is that the entire time, she did not feel powerless like she had every day since her mother fell ill.  She felt like she had control, which may have been ironic considering her state of being at another being’s mercy.  She reveled in her father’s mortification when he realized that this was an exorcism that he had no power to perform.  She could remember the look of fear in his eyes when she succumbed to the demon’s demands to strangle him.  There was so much strength and power inside of her little body during that time, and it was exhilarating for a girl who was weak and bitter for so long.

Eventually, professionals outside of the church had to be called to extract the demon from within.  She was weaker than before when all was said and done, and had to rest in bed for the month that followed.  She spent a lot of time inside her head during that month.  She felt guilt, sure.  Logically, she knew she had subjected others to unspeakable horrors.  Her father never looked at her the same way and any love that once was there grew cold.  Part of her yearned for the strength that one could only attain through darkness; she yearned to have the power to make others notice and respect her.  When she finally got out of that bed, she found herself in the library that her mother used to take her to daily before she fell ill.  But Diva did not seek out the picture books that once brought her comfort.  She sought to quench her thirst for knowledge of all things demonic.

Diva’s formative years were lost to this obsession, though she never revealed this to her father or any of her peers.  As she grew older, there were feelings inside of her that she barely understood.  Only later did she realize that going through such an ordeal during such a period in her life left her stunted.  While girls her age were chasing boys, she had herself convinced that carnal pleasures would never hold a candle to the feeling of surrendering yourself to another being and allowing it to grant you might that other humans would never wrap their mind around.  She never found companionship.  She never found love, and she never felt like she was missing out on anything but the thrill of possession.

By the time she was a young adult, she was a scholar of the occult.  She had an encyclopedic knowledge of demonology that was practically useless when it came to finding a job to support herself after the passing of her father.  Shelving this part of her so that she could make a living was painful for Diva.  Many saw her as kind and gentle if distant, but none knew her well enough to see beyond her pleasant surface.  She often felt like she was succumbing to weakness, but eventually accepted that this was the hand she was dealt.  The monotony of pink-collar life served to clear her mind, and by the time she found herself applying for Devil May Cry, she felt juvenile for the years she spent wanting to be reclaimed by a demon.

Until she fell for Vergil.

In many ways, he possessed her.  Merely being in his presence unearthed a strength and confidence within her that she didn’t think she was capable of having without the influence of a darker force.  The desire to see fear in someone’s eyes was replaced with the greater desire to see lust and longing in his.  Though she could feel the distinct energy of demonic blood coursing through his veins whenever he was near, even more so than that of his brother, it often slipped her mind that he was half-devil.  Deep inside, she was aware that he must have possessed a demon form, but he’d never had a reason to show it to her before he’d known the truth about her.

“You and I…  It seems we have more in common than I had ever anticipated,” Vergil mused the night she came clean.  He had long admired her knowledge, and had become curious why she was so invested in the subject.  Despite having gained her trust, it was still difficult to pry the truth out of her and took much persuasion on his part.  He had to assure her that no matter what she said, his opinion of her would not change.  Now that it had left her lips, he couldn’t keep his promise.  His opinion did indeed change, but not for the negative.  “Power…  It has served to motivate us both.  No wonder I found myself drawn to you, and you to me.”

Diva nodded.  There wasn’t much left for her to say after telling him everything. 

“Tell me, Diva,” he pulled her closer.  Warm breath fanned over her ear.  “Do you wish to witness the full power of a demon for yourself?” 

Her breath got caught in her throat.  She turned to him with eyes wide as saucers.  Her hesitation was palpable, as was her curiosity.  Vergil did not wait for a verbal response.

In a burst of light, his devil trigger was unleashed. 

He soon stood before her not as a man, but as a devil.  Though still bipedal and vaguely humanoid, his appearance was largely reptilian.  Shimmery blue scales spanned his body.  Sharp claws capped his hands and feet.  His mouth was filled with bared sharped fangs.  Glowing blue eyes narrowed as he leaned forward to speak to her.

“Do I frighten you, Diva?”

Stunned and speechless, she slowly shook her head.  Vergil’s voice was deep and distorted, yet still retained his typical nasally tone which brought her comfort.  Her eyes glistened as she admired him.  He took note of her hand hovering at her side, itching to reach forward.

“You may touch me,” he said.

Diva took a step forward to close the gap between them.  His scent was strong, distinctly hellish, but not unpleasant, like that of sandalwood mixed with brimstone.  Heat emanated off of him, but she couldn’t blame her flushed features on this.  With a shaky hand, she reached up.  First, she stroked his jaw, as she often did when they were alone.  In spite of his terrifying transformation, he discovered he was still was weak to her touch.  The low purr of pleasure rumbled deep in his chest, and her fingers traced down to rest there.  The beat of his human heart was not detectible in this form, much to her disappointment.  Said disappointment was short lived as fingertips ghosted down the scales of his abdomen.  He let her hand travel no further before claws gripped her hips, gently not to put a scratch on her.  His demonic tone grew husky as he drew her near.

“Do you wish to feel a demon inside you yet again?” he asked her.  “I promise, this time will feel so much better than the last.”

Diva gasped when the implication of his words hit her.  Her eyes flicked down to where her hand had stopped just short of his crotch.  While it may not have looked like he had anything to work with, she knew demons well enough to know what to expect.  Her touch drifted lower still, her fore and middle fingers traced the discreet slit concealed between his legs.  The tender strokes of her fingertips along this sensitive area awakened the beast inside, and the demonic member unsheathed itself.  A low growl of pleasure rose from Vergil.

“I take that as a yes…”

The cock of this form was more than Diva could have ever imagined.  It was heavy, weighty in her palm.  Beads of fluid dripped from the tapered tip, rolling down the girthy, studded shaft that pulsed with blue light.  As she marveled at the mass, she feared one ride would lead to her demise, but what a demise it would be.

“Yes,” she eventually breathed.

She looked deep into his eyes as she said this, so there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt regarding her intentions.  Vergil did not demand another word of confirmation.  He lifted her with ease.  One strong arm wrapped around her waist, and she threw her arms around his neck in turn.  Razor claws of his free hand reached up the skirt of her dress, hooking her panties to tear them away from her body.  With this fabric out of the way, he guided his cock towards her entrance.

The pointed head split her lips, plunging into her with ease.  She was sufficiently aroused, so the first inch glided in without a hitch as well.  After that required a bit more effort.  She had to stretch to accommodate the girth, and the ridges of his shaft added sensation to her already well-stimulated walls.  Judging by his grunts and subtle snarls, Vergil wanted nothing more than to impale her, but he took his time.

Soon enough, she had taken most of him.  When he began to pull out so he could thrust back in, she felt every bump and ridge drag against her, conjuring moans in their wake.  This process was repeated, each time a little faster, and each time a little deeper.  She was soon hanging on for dear life, clinging to him, sobbing out in pleasure with every sharp thrust into her.  The base of his cock had been steadily swelling over the course of their bout, forming a fat knot that was begging to be buried within her.

“Prepare yourself.”  His warning was whispered in her ear, but felt louder than thunder coming from the demon.  “You will be filled, claimed, unable to separate yourself from me.  Your body will be one with mine.  Now is your chance to concede if this is too much for you.”

A frantic shake of her head was all she could conjure as whimpers and moans continued to fall from her lips.  She never knew this was what she wanted, what she needed, but now that it was in motion, it was all she could process.  Vergil’s thrusts grew frenzied, laced with growls of frustration. 

Searing pleasure and pain shot through her when the knot forced its way in.  Her body shuddered against the sturdy flesh of her devil lover, and she clung to him as her orgasm wracked through her.  He fucked her through this climax, and the one that followed, continuing to pummel her oversensitive hole as he chased his own release.  Her third followed when she felt the torrents of demon seed being unleashed into her, accompanied by a monstrous bellow and the feel of scaled arms squeezing her tight.  Vergil fell to his knees as he flooded Diva’s womb, never once letting go of his hold on her.

Diva shut her eyes, anticipating to rest with him until the swelling in his knot went down enough for him to release her.  She failed to account for his unholy stamina.  Though he did lay her down, there was no rest in sight.  He was growing hard again inside of her, and the rutting resumed before she could catch her breath.  The time for being gentle had passed.  She was now pinned beneath him, getting fucked into the floor.  Each pant from his terrifying maw was hot as hellfire, adding to the perspiration from this physical activity that already soaked Diva’s skin.  The warmth of his breath breezing past her face made her eyelids heavy, and they fluttered shut. 

For the second time in her life, she felt immense power and control despite the fact that she was the one at a demon’s mercy.  She had the power to reduce a mighty son of Sparda to a rutting mess.  She could say a word and stop him if she wanted, and it was her “weakness” of being a gentle human that gave her this power over him.  It would remain their secret.