Angel in Hell

*All characters are 18+. This is fiction for erotic entertainment only; I do not condone nonconsensual sex.*

*This is a heaven/hell fantasy. Also, unlike my usual, there is NO male orgasm.*

***

I dove.

Muscles tight, wings sharply angled, pure white feathers smoothed. Darkness and heat soon greeted me. The winds were gentle this high up, flaring into a storm as I approached my target.

I landed, soft and silent on a ledge overseeing the great city. Tall, spired buildings scattered the landscape, like stalagmites tipped with balls of flame. Orange-red heat flickered from the cavernous depths surrounding the city, a fissure that made an island for its human denizens.

Hell.

The second circle, specifically. There were few demons here, and hopefully, none that could detect me. I checked my invisibility again. I wasn't an archangel sent here with a divine purpose. If one of them caught me, they wouldn't be pleased.

Neither would a demon, but I could handle them. Probably.

I shrugged away my worries. Sneaking out had been easy. This would be fine, too.

I launched with the wind, riding it lower as I scanned the multitude of souls. As I grew closer, the wind grew louder, full of despair. Full of moaning, wailing voices.

My feathers shivered.

Not every soul in Hell deserved to be here. Perhaps that belief was blasphemy, but I'd come to the conclusion a month ago when a soul I'd watched over--a perfectly virtuous soul--ended up here. Somewhere.

I would find him and help him, so he could be saved, so he could go where he belonged. It was rare, but an archangel could take him from this place.

The city was vast. I glided over the tallest spires--hollow structures with souls bound within and without, buffeted by the relentless, shifting wind. Endless souls. Countless structures.

I alighted on a tower's window, peering at the souls within. None seemed aware of their surroundings, lost in their own worlds. And none were familiar. I stepped inside for a closer look. Perhaps there was some sort of organization.

"What's a pretty little bird like you doing here?"

I spun.

Framed in the window was a demon, though unlike the carvings I knew. The red, leathery wings each with a thick, sharp claw were normal. A thin, long tail tipped in fur. Two curved horns like a goat's curved back atop his head. Male--or so his proudly jutting organ proclaimed since wore nothing but knee-high black leather boots and chains around his sinewy arms.

But no monstrous visage, no armor of bones, no spikes embedded in his skin. He looked human. Normal. Beautiful.

I fixed my stare on his dark eyes and his smirking face. He shouldn't be able to see me.

I lifted my chin. "I'm here for one of these souls. Leave me to my business, demon."

He laughed. "You've no business here. They'd never send such a weak little thing." His deep, sultry voice shivered down my spine. He stalked toward me. I backed away.

His smile widened. "Don't be afraid. Play with me. It's been a while since I've tasted an angel."

I stumbled. He was lying. He had to be. Angels didn't... 'play' with demons.

He chuckled at my incredulous look. "You aren't the first to dip her pure feathers in the mud. Aren't you curious? Intrigued by our... activities?"

I shook my head, shook off his words, and gave him a cold look. He was only a cunning, lying demon. The question didn't even bear answering. Angels didn't feel lust. We were incapable of it, or so I'd been told for centuries. There were a few who had strayed--and they had all been cast down.

My hands flared with light. "Stay back and be silent, demon. I'm not here for you, but I'll destroy you if I need to."

He raised a brow but stopped walking. "Where are my manners. Allow me to introduce myself."

His wings flared wide as he swept out an arm and bowed, his tail twisting in an exaggerated flurry. "I am Asmodai, Lord of the Second Circle. At your service, O lovely feathered one."

I went still. Asmodai. One of the most ancient of demons, far older than myself. And more powerful. Amusement lit his eyes at my realizations.

Stupid. I'd been very stupid to think the Lord wouldn't notice me. But I was still an angel. Still better than him. Untouchable.

I stiffened my tone into a command. "Then you can lead me to my task, and I'll be gone from your realm."

He chuckled, offering another incline of his head. "Without even your name, darling? Allow me the small pleasure of knowing who I am aiding."

"Lyriel." A name was harmless enough.

He inclined his head. "Thank you, Lyriel." My name rolled off his tongue with too much familiarity. Perhaps allowing him anything was a bad idea. "And who might you be searching for?"

I paused, suspicious of his accommodating manner. "David Cartien. He arrived a month ago. He--"

"Ah, yes, shameless adulterer. Quite a few of those here. Come, come." The demon turned to the window.

My eyes flicked up quickly at the sight of his bare ass. His muscled back was only marginally better. He cast a smirk over his shoulder.

We flew lower toward the structures where the raging wind wasn't as strong. More proof that I was right. David's sin wasn't so terrible.

The demon disappeared inside a building. My eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, catching on a single soul bound to a pillar across the room. David, his body buffeted by the winds. He appeared insensate, his eyes unfocused, perhaps looking inward. I took a single step closer.

Chains raced across the floor, lashed the air, and pinned me to the wall.

Asmodai leaned against a different pillar, watching me, one hand holding the chains that bound my wrists and ankles.

I snarled, struggling but unable to free myself. My power was bound as much as my body, my splayed wings flattened painfully against the hard surface behind me. "How dare you? Release me, or you'll regret this when the archangels come looking for me."

His eyes slowly traveled up and down my body, over the length and breadth of my wings. "No, darling. No one's coming for you," he purred. He prowled a few steps closer. "You're here to free a soul. To take something that's mine. What will you give me in return?"

I glared. "He doesn't belong to you. He doesn't belong here at all."

Asmodai grinned. "Are you saying that heaven... misjudged? Can I be... redeemed too? So many immaculate souls up there to ravage." He licked his lips.

I stiffened. "Demons don't have souls. Of course, you can't be redeemed."

He chuckled. "I'll have to make do with you, then, Lyriel." He stepped closer, his tail curling around my leg, the soft tip brushing my inner thighs. I stiffened.

"Relax, darling. I'm not going to hurt you."

I twisted and yanked against the chains. "Remove these, and stop touching me, demon. You're not allowed to touch me."

"Oh? Who's going to stop me?" His fingers ran through my feathers. Little shocks fluttered across my back. I shivered. He tilted his head. "Has anyone ever touched you like this?" His fingers whispered another path along my wings, brushing the bones just barely. My spine arched.

"No," I whispered, caught in the strange sensations. Wings were private. We didn't touch each other much, particularly not the wings.

His eyes lit. "Oh, you are so innocent." He inhaled deeply and sighed. "You curious little birds don't usually flitter down here until you've... explored other territories." He shifted closer, his body bare inches away, his tail gliding sinuously around my sensitive inner thighs.

I had no idea what he was talking about. I was mostly concerned with his large, obscene member so close, nearly touching me. "Get away from me with that!"

He chuckled. "My cock. Say it."

I shook my head.

His hands settled on my waist, warmth quickly seeping through my thin white dress. I frowned in disapproval, then looked away, straightening my spine. This creature would not have the satisfaction of unsettling me any longer.

His grin widened in the corner of my eyes. He dragged the tips of his overly warm fingers across my stomach. "Play with me, darling," he crooned. "A few hours, maybe a day--and that soul is yours. All you have to do is enjoy yourself. It's an easy bargain."

My lips thinned. I said nothing.

He sighed. His fingertips grew hard and pointy, then sliced down sharply. I flinched, but he'd only cut fabric. The shreds of my dress floated in the wind. He would not go so far as to actually hurt me. He couldn't. My breathing quickened.

His fingers grazed my bare skin. Odd tingles flared through my spine and my core. "Or, I can just take what I want," he crooned, "and you get... nothing."

My dignity. I get my dignity, you foul, horrible demon. I swallowed.

His hands slipped beneath the ruins of my dress, the burning heat of his palms caressing my sides, rubbing up and down my back. "Mmph. Your little flinches are so cute. And you people say my kind is tempting. How can I resist your beautiful, delightful body?"

I caught my lips trying to twist into a snarl. No. I had nothing left but control over my body and my thoughts. He would not take that.

His tail slipped beneath my undergarments while his hands explored. My muscles tightened at the soft brush of fur on my butt and over my pelvis. It slowly slithered over every inch of my sensitive skin from hip to hip, circling the rounds of my butt cheeks, tickling my inner thighs--but he carefully avoided my mound. I grew confident that he wouldn't go that far when his tail slipped out of my clothes and glided up and down my legs instead.

I glanced at his amused eyes. "Let me go now, and I won't speak of this. The archangels have destroyed your kind for less."

"Oh, darling. You'll tell your precious archangels that you snuck down here? That you defied and rejected the laws of heaven? I don't even know where to begin. Blasphemy, perfidy? Temptation?"

"My task here is important." It was to me. He couldn't know otherwise. "What do you know of the laws of heaven, demon?"

"Mmhm. More than you, sweet Lyriel. Tell them you met me, and they might condemn you on the spot." He sliced away a strip of my dress.

I frowned. "You're just a demon."

Another ribbon of cloth floated away. "Just--I think I'm offended." His tail curled around my waist, his fingers sliding up my ribs, barely brushing the undersides of my breasts. He tilted his head. "You really don't know who I am."

"I know all I need to know. You're an old, depraved, revolting demon--nothing else is relevant."

His eyes flashed red. He closed the distance between us, pressing his body against mine, wings flaring wide, the hot length of his organ burning my stomach. "Be careful how you speak to me. I'd prefer not to hurt you, but I can make this very unpleasant." The chains tightened, grinding my bones. I winced and shuddered. The heat of his skin seeped into my core.

The chains loosened. He stepped back. The absence of his member chilled my stomach. His wings folded behind him. "I'd much rather you enjoy your time with me." Sharp claws grazed my skin, sliced at my undergarments, and across the last wisps on my dress. My face flushed. Completely bare before a demon.

"Beautiful," he breathed. His claws vanished. He began at my waist, his thumbs rubbing my stomach, his fingers kneading my back. The warmth of his hands felt like an obscene massage, my muscles melting beneath his touch, something strange gathering low in my stomach.

Then I tensed all over again when he cupped my breasts. "Shh, shh, relax. Don't think, my sweet little bird, just feel. Mmm, you are so soft." He squeezed gently, lightly pinching my nipples between his fingers. My skin tingled.

"Remove your filthy hands. The archangels--"

"Don't care. I could hold you here forever. They'd never even notice. Isn't that why you came here instead of going to them? When was the last time they helped a mortal?" His kneading became rougher, his eyes faintly glowing. One of his hands slid behind my back, digging into my muscles. I winced.

He wasn't wrong. Heaven's decisions were final. A soul hadn't been forgiven in eons, and even then only from the first circle.

His fingers relaxed. "Play nice, darling, and you'll be out of here soon enough. I won't hold you for long, I promise." He leaned forward, his face barely an inch away. I turned to the side. His warm lips brushed my cheek. Soft. I should be disgusted, but his kiss was so gentle.

He nudged my head back, his eyes pools of mesmerizing darkness. "Indulge me. Just one kiss. It can't hurt. One kiss and you can have the mortal."

My lips parted. I didn't move away when he closed the distance between us. I wasn't thinking about the mortal. I was lost in his eyes, in his seductive voice, in his skilled fingers massaging my back. So much touching, so much feeling--I'd never known these sensations before.

And, well, one kiss... wouldn't hurt.

His warm breath landed first, then a feather-light, almost hesitant touch. His tongue, wet and hot, stroked my lips, slowly teasing into my mouth. I let him. I convinced myself I only wanted to help the mortal. My mouth opened wider. I tentatively licked him back, and he rewarded me with a quiet groan.

I barely noticed his body pressing against me again, the hard length of him silky on my skin. Not until his lips separated from mine, my eyes fluttering open, my chest rising and falling too quickly, the odd rush between my legs intensifying.

"Don't... don't touch me with that," I breathed. I blinked rapidly, fighting to regain my sanity. He was using some demonic ability to force my body to respond. He had to be.

"Cock. Say it, darling," he purred. I clamped my lips shut as his hand slid down my body. Only to open them again in a gasp. His fingers were between my legs, his touch jolting through my spine.

"Oh, darling," he groaned, "you're dripping wet. What a naughty little angel."

My face flushed. He barely touched me there, but it was enough to spread my juices all over my mound. Sensitive. Tingling. My thighs tensed, twitched.

"Th-the mortal. You said..." I mumbled.

His finger slowly circled my entrance. "Yes, you can have him. When I'm done with you." The soft fur of his tail dragged along my inner thighs as his finger dipped inside me. Just barely inside, just slightly parting my nether lips, then out and up, grazing my clit.

My mind couldn't process the sensation. A moan dragged from my lips. "What are you doing to me..."

He continued the torturous, luxurious motion--dipping, gliding, swirling. "Just touching you, darling. It's perfectly harmless, isn't it?"

My body trembled. My hips wanted to thrust, my back to arch, my legs to wrap around his hand. It was difficult to think, to remind myself that this wasn't me. It must be him.

His finger slipped deeper into my slick flesh. He paused. My hymen. He wouldn't break that, would he? His finger was one knuckle deep. He pulled out. Circled slowly. In again, gently rubbing. I held my breath. He withdrew, rubbed my outer folds.

I breathed deeply and purposefully. I did not want this. I did not want this.

His fingers flattened against my sensitive nub. My hips bucked violently. He chuckled. "Patience. I'll take care of you."

I couldn't take it. I shook my head. "No more, please. Please stop."

"I've barely started." He shifted, angling his member between my legs. I nearly screamed. The burning heat spread through my pelvis, his silky skin like warm butter. I couldn't admit that it felt good. It was torture. I struggled harder, my legs yanking on the chains, my throat gasping when I only succeeded in rubbing myself against him.

The chains slithered up my calves, spread my legs, and melded into the wall. "Shh, darling. Don't fight it. Your body was made to experience pleasure. Resisting only makes it more intense. Unless... that's what you want?" He chuckled.

I gave him a weak snarl. I was reduced to fighting my own body.

His hands slid up my sides and cupped my breasts again, molding, squeezing. His hips moved back and forth, rubbing the length of himself on my soft folds. I forced silence over my scream. I refused to give him the satisfaction.

"Stop. Touching. Me," I ground out.

"Come on, darling, try a little harder. 'Stop touching me... with your cock'," he prompted. "I'll stop rubbing you like this if you say it."

I was desperate for reprieve. I mustered a glare. "Stop touching me with your... cock."

He smiled. "Good girl. Now, tell me not to fuck you."

Heat poured into my core. I rejected it, my eyes widening. "You can't. I'm an angel. I've never--you can't!" My voice was shrill by that last word.

His eyes glazed a touch. "Oh, but I can." He leaned into my ear, whispering, "And you will love every moment."

I pressed my head into the wall, wincing as the motion aggravated my sore wings. He brushed a hand over my feathers, soothing them. His warm shaft, even just resting there, was decadent butter against my slick folds.

I was breathing too hard. If he continued, I wasn't sure I could resist. "Please don't fuck me." He'd stopped rubbing me, as he'd promised. Maybe...

He licked my neck. "Your pussy. Say it. Tell me not to fuck your pussy."

"Please don't... fuck my pussy." A flood of heat rushed between my legs as my face heated in shame. I was hoping for a demon's sincerity.

"Mmph. But your body is begging me to fuck it."

"No!" My voice was too loud, the scream trying to come out. I wasn't sure it was a scream of fear anymore. He only laughed quietly into my ear. I closed my eyes to distance myself from the sensations. I'd spent centuries watching humans, judging them for acts like this. I wasn't going to give in so easily.

But I'd never experienced pleasure like this before, and he knew that.

My heartbeat quickened as his cock slid slowly back along my slick heat. I clenched my fists as his soft tail caressed my hips, my waist, my stomach. I focused on the pain of my crushed wings to ignore his crooning voice.

"You're ready for me. I know you're telling yourself that I'm forcing your body to react, to want me." He chuckled. "I'm not."

He must be lying. I refused to accept that my body would so easily betray me. All of what I was feeling--he had to be forcing it into my mind, beneath my skin. Even so, denying that I was feeling pleasure was only denying the truth. His shaft was electric bliss when it moved through my embarrassingly copious fluids. The bulbous head of his cock paused at my dripping entrance, gently parting my pussy lips.

My eyes flew open, staring at his hard shaft about to penetrate my tiny body. I met his eyes, fear and pleading filling my gaze, while amusement, and pure male satisfaction suffused his.

"Please, please don't--"

His cock head spread my inner muscles, my nether lips wrapping around the tip. I couldn't speak. Pain and pleasure. Pressure and stretching.

He was terribly gentle. I wish he would have just taken me and been done with it, so I could hate him, hate the act.

It felt like an eternity passed while he slowly worked his way inside me, his shaft withdrawing with every bit of gain, pausing when he pressed in just a little deeper. My body adjusted to accommodate his girth, my inner walls beginning to welcome his gradual invasion. He gently circled my sensitive nub as he continued to force his way into my flesh.

"Mmm. Darling, I'm so sorry for this part. It'll hurt a bit." He actually looked apologetic. I braced. "No. Don't--Ah!" His hips jerked. Pain tore through my insides as his cock shredded my hymen. I gasped. He held still within me, shushing softly and rubbing my clit, brushing my hair.

The sore ache slowly faded. Perhaps he saw the pain leeching out of my eyes or noticed how my gasping breaths became less frantic. He began moving within me again, gently fondling my clit. The pleasure returned quickly. I bore down on the intense heat between my legs, rejecting it, refusing it--and unknowingly tightening my muscles around his shaft. He stoked the burning pleasure with every thrust that intruded a little deeper, a little further.