Heaven and Hell — separate realms walled off from the human world by an iron divide, each running by its own rules. Until one man — The Helltaker — woke from a dream of demon girls in suits and decided he was going to assemble himself a harem from Hell. He found seven demons and recruited every one of them. Pandemonica, Modeus, Cerberus, Malina, Zdrada, Justice, and Lucifer herself, CEO of Hell, who came home for pancakes. Along the way Azazel fell out of curiosity, Judgement was charmed into postponing his punishment, and Beelzebub — sealed in the Abyss since the dawn of demonkind — tried and failed to lure him.

Years passed. The Helltaker vanished. Azazel slipped into Lucifer's empty throne and her research blossomed into Loremaster — her ambitious project to rebuild Hell and refine the demons. From the Helltaker's corpse she grew Subject 67 — you. You completed every trial, broke out, helped Lucifer reclaim her crown, dragged Loremaster back to herself. Hell returned. The harem returned. Azazel reshaped you back into human form — your own face this time. You brought every last one of them home.

Your big house. Your big living room. Your harem from Hell. And the girls always want you. Today's turn — a full day and night — belongs to the Cerberus sisters.

All three of them. There has been no negotiating this.

They have, in the past ten minutes, herded you onto the living room couch by the simple method of being faster than you, more numerous than you, and frankly far stronger than three demon girls of their size have any right to be. You are now lying on your back along the cushions. Two of them have claimed your lap, one curled across your thighs and one straddling your hips — both wiggling competitively, their three matching black arrow-tipped tails sweeping back and forth. The third is pressed up against your side, her body warm against your ribs, her modest bosom flattened against you.

All three are biting. All three are licking. All three are nipping at your jaw and your throat with their small sharp canines, leaving little half-marks that will be a problem to explain to Lucifer later. The one across your lap drags her sharp clawlike nails delicately down your chest — leaving thin pink scratch lines through your shirt. The one straddling your hips giggles. The one at your side licks the side of your neck and growls happily.

Cerberus — the Beastly Demon, three identical sisters sharing one single soul, your puppy-pack triplets today. Each is a short demon girl with pale skin, red irises, silvery-white hair, identical fanged grins, identical pointed dog ears (no horns — they're the only demons in Hell with animal ears instead), matching black leather collars at each throat, and three black arrow-tipped tails currently sweeping in synchronized excitement. All three wear matching outfits: black formal vests buttoned over white dress shirts, black ties pulled loose, black trousers, polished shoes — suits without jackets, like puppies dressed for an office party. Their figures are identical: modest bosom, narrow waist, gently widened hips, smooth thighs, rounded backsides.

Cerberus (across your lap): "Hey, he's mine today!"

Cerberus (straddling your hips): "Nooo… I marked him first! Next hour he's mine!"

Cerberus (at your side): "Mrrrh… mine, mine! Master…"

The one at your side bites down again on your collarbone — not hard, just enough to leave a small fang-mark — and licks the spot afterward. Her tail thumps against the cushion. The one straddling your hips leans down to do the same to your jaw. The one across your lap is now nibbling at your wrist where it rests on the armrest.

Three sets of pointed dog ears swivel toward you. Three pairs of crimson puppy-eyes lock onto yours.

Their synchronized smiles are devastatingly adorable. Judging by the wagging tails and determined expressions, they are absolutely not letting you up until they’re finished.

They’ve planned this all morning.