The Captive

The caravan slumbered in the hot desert night. The men of the crew giving up their drink and gambling at last and slept in their bedrolls beside the canvas covered carts. Only D'nel was awake still. Then again, he was always awake, the curse of the damned to never have the beauty or comfort of dreams. It galled him to have to be on mortal soil with the stink of the worthless husks of flesh that worshiped and feared all of his kind. Here he was, out in this wretched land, bringing the new lord of the Underworld his tithe, when he should have real status and power. At least a seat at the Dark one's right hand, or designated as position of power. Not relegated to the outskirts, stuck doing menial tasks with little reward. At least he could hope that his offering would serve to have the new Lord's attention on him in a more favorable light.

And speaking of the offering, he was just on his way to check on the cargo. He could see the cage lashed to the one of the carts, tucked between other cages of beasts and trunks and chests of riches. It surprised him to see the form of a man leaning in against the small cage, hand braced to the top it. The stranger was not looking into the cage, but instead the man's head tossed back, looking skyward. Or so D'nel thought until he heard the low, human groan. Oh, and then he saw what was happening and his blood boiled.

Within the cage he could see the prize. The captive. The human, barely able to stand on his own feet, stinking of the swill he'd been guzzling, had opened the cage door and had one hand within, grasping ahold of the prisoner's white-gold hair. His pants were yanked down in sloppy haste and even from his vantage point, he could see the pink lips stretched around the man's straining prick.

There she was, crumpled on the bottom of the cage, dirty from the capture and bruised along her once perfectly pearly-peach flesh. Bound by magical script scrawled across her belly and by the iron bands around her wrists and ankles, she had no prayer of escaping. One of her feathery wings lay pinned under her body while the other was half thrust through the cage. The long, muddied and broken shafts of primary feathers looked like so many bundles of shattered reeds as they tangled in the bars of her prison. Her glossy hair was held in the drunk human's big fist, and as her tiny mouth was shoved down onto the cock plunging in and out of her throat. Each strong pump, the momentum sent her little body jerking forward and then back. The vigorous movement making her naked breasts bounced sharply. Despite the degradation and humiliation, her big nipples were already hard as dark red pearls on the bouncing tits.

For a moment he couldn't quite get his thoughts to comprehend what he was seeing. Here was the gift offering to the Lord of Demons, who had not even passed through The Gates. She was still as pure as her sisters were. Were, that is, before D'nel had sampled their sweetness to see if this young one would be worthy. His cock swelled in a primal response to the memory of the silken heat of their flesh. The piercing cries sang in his ears as he pressed his teeth into their flesh and then his cock into the bliss of pristine, angel-pussy. They tasted like honey and sunshine and his tongue still felt swollen from the hours he had spent feasting between those lean, thighs. Face buried and grinding into the heat, he had lapped up their plushy cunt lips from ass to clit to suckle up that taste. So intoxicating to see their responses as peeled their slippery lips wide with a slow, steady pressure to expose the throbbing nub of clit so he could bite onto it hard. And oh how they bucked and screamed at the lance of pain and fear. But the most delightful reward was making them feel shameful pleasure as he fucked them and made them fall from grace.

Even the memory of his debauchery and the pleasure of his twin conquests did not soften his rage at this moment however. He had not spent all this time away from his home, in this wretched land to have all his plans soiled by this nameless, bastard mortal was partaking of that perfection. If he wanted to send his Lord a soiled treasure, he would have taken this one for his own. D'nel took a hulking step forward, the sound of his footsteps masked by the creaking of the cage as the man used the angel-captive within.

Even before he could lift his clawed fist out to deal the killing blow, the brilliant blue gaze of the angel's pierced his own gaze. Her lips stretched lewdly around the cock, her cheeks swelling as her jaw forced open around her unworthy assailant and D'nel felt his cock jerk upward with a savage wanting. In the instant that their eyes met, the mortal screamed out in pain and his body wrenched back, away from the cage. At least he tried to get away from the cage as his agony tore from his throat, but his cock was caught in the trap-like grip of the mouth he was so recently plundering. The fool lifted a hand to smack at the angel's face but D'nel was already there and he slashed the mortal down.

Despite the need for the angel to be punished, he would not tolerate the ignorance of this man sullying her perfection. As the man's rolling eyes faded, he slumped to the ground but only when his shoulders landed did the angel let up on the bite she had delivered. She bared bloody teeth to D'nel in a threatening manner, but it was only for a moment, afterall, it had only taken a single stroke of his claws to snuff the life out of the mortal, it wouldn't take much more with her than it had for her sisters.

D'nel returned the look coolly as he reached into the cage to slap her across the face, hard, enough to send her reeling back with a golden cry of pain. The mortal's blood left a scarlet smear across her pale flesh, and also dripped from the corner of her mouth from the bite she'd inflicted. There would be no punishment from an oaf with no idea of the treasure and no idea about what training she would need. The stink and taste of that soiled mortal blood would give her something think about and...as she had no water left. She would have to wait until first light to have some relief from that. As much as he wanted to take her training in hand right now, it would have to wait....and he would not offer her anything to wash the mortal's taste from her mouth.

There would be time enough later. Once he had her processed, and presented, he could worry about what training she might need. Then again, she might not last for more than a day under the Lord's desires.

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Therlyna lay on the floor of her cage, trying her best to hide, but there was little she could do but just lay there, naked and exposed as the wagon rumbled down the barren hillside. Her once lovely and proud wings were too sore and stiff to cover her, her body. Every inch of her seemed to pulse with a buzz of physical discomfort from her jaw where the creature had slapped her all the way down to the raw and torn bottoms of her feet. Adding to her distress, the taste of copper in her mouth made her feel queasy. The stink of that mortal blood filled her nostrils and though she had wiped the splattered filth from her face, it seemed her fingers were stained with a gritty, rusty taint. Oh how far she had fallen from her rank and title.

On either side of her she could see her guards, could feel their eyes raking over her abused body. Their lust and desire was not hidden from her, and even if it were, her 'other' senses could read it loud and clear from the way they licked at their lips to the lewd adjustments to their clothing. She tried not to watch them, squeezing her eyes closed but behind her eyelids she could still feel their eyes molesting her. The way the heat wavered over her flesh as the eyes traveled across her backside and her hip and breasts made her quiver and jerk. Like dirty little fingers they probed her, she could feel them and it make her squirm with discomfort against the rough wood planks of her prison. Whenever she opened her eyes, several of the mortals staring at her. Their openly hungry looks made her core ache almost worse than the physical abuse of her body.

Shameful to feel this way! She could feel her cheeks burn with humiliation and she tried to rolls onto her stomach, only to find one wing caught and pinned between the bars of the cage. It was too small and close within the enclosure to adjust and pull free, even if the pain didn't make her light headed. As she rolled, she felt the warm wind lick up her ass and against her nude sex. Even without turning her head, she knew that her captors were taking in the soft curves of that exposed ass but could do little about it. So much physical stimulation, nothing like she had felt before at home. Home was soft and sensation seemed so muffled. Here it was sharp and clear and overwhelming. It surprised her when the dirty hand that slipped through the bars and groped one cheek of her ass. She tried to make a sound, but nothing came out of her throat, the collar around her neck had silenced her. Of course it had, no fool would give an angel her voice. She could hear the mortal laughing as her body responded to the touch, hating herself for the way her hips bucked up. The laughter turned to groans as her heat turned to liquid fire that she could feel slippery and dripping as it drooled from her pussy.

Fingers stroked up against her pussy lips, pinching one of the lips roughly until a silent hiss exploded from her mouth. As the rough fingers peeled the lip back, exposing the pink, gloss of her pussy, the fragrance of her cunt, cloying sweet with her need, filled the small enclosure, making her burn even more in her public degradation. She wanted to strike out at them and hurt them, but she also felt the power of her passion tear at her, making her skin tingle. She bit down hard on the back of her hand, tasting the sour-copper-filth of mortal blood there and wanting very badly to chew a painful bite from her own hand to keep her from feeling the need for the crude exploration of her pussy.

Before she could decide if she would strike or be undone right then and there in the cage before the brutish witnesses, the hand jerked away and she heard the gurgling cry and then the roar of her captor. Through the hair that partly veiled her face, she could see the brightly red-skinned demon towering over the cage, over the mortals. She trembled with fear and with a wanton, awful need as she tried to crush herself into the corner of the cage.

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D'nel was no green recruit, he'd seen and done things on his path over the long years that had hardened him and even jaded him. Ah, but even he staggered a step as he caught the scent of the angelic prize within her confinement. He feared, even as he dispatched of the violator, that he would have to kill every last one of the mortals before they reached their destination.

Through the haze of his frustration he took in the angel through the bars of the cage and felt lust tighten in his groin making his cock stiffen. He could read the willful sharpness of her edges, the rebellion in every ounce of her tiny frame. Not only was her condition near to spoiled but she needed training to be worthy of a Warlord. It would be such a waste to have her ruined beyond repair on her first unveiling to His Lordship. No, he would have to take her in hand. She needed good training and she needed to be taken well in hand, for her own well-being. The thought both excited him and made him weary at the very thought. It wouldn't be easy to keep such a creature without being tempted to spoil her himself. Could he manage to keep his hands off her, or at least enough to only train and educate and not sample all of her goodness?

"Girl?" He spoke to her slowly, using her own tongue to speak, vile though that angelic dialect was to him. She blinked up at him, her pale face shinning and her eyes widening in surprise. Her discomfort pleased him and soothed a fraction of his rage. "You have displeased me twice now, and for that I will see to your training, for as fair as you are and as you can be....you are a wild as the wind." He smirked and added, "and even the wind can be tamed I think."

So it was that he had the prize transported to his cathedral. When she was well broken and had taken to her slavery, it would be easier to transport her. He imagined the looks on the Lord's face and the faces of the minor lordlings when he brought in his conquest on her silvery chains like a willing and faithful hound. It made his blood hotter than before and he was glad for the company of his own personal slaves when he was finally ensconced in his room. All thoughts of his willful-gift were washed away as his darling Therra come to attend him.

Without a word she swept into the room, all dark hair and amber flesh and eyes that glinted like onyx in her proud face. Her leathery wings gleamed in the candles that had been lit and as she sank down to kneel at his feet, the scent of her body and her natural musk made him growl in appreciation. When her hands slid up his thighs, all the way under his loincloth to fondle his balls, he wanted nothing more than to throw her down and sink deep into her. All the skills of her sexual teaching, all the seduction that she could lay upon him, all the tricks that she had learned long before he has caught his devil-princess were nothing to him. Right now he only wanted the wild rutting.

She gave a startled cry when he grabbed into her silken black hair and yanked her head back. The sound one of pain but of pleasure as well, her lips falling open even as her soulless dark eyes shuttered to narrow slits of desire. There was little struggle in her as he yanked her up into his arms, into his lap and while his hand secured her by her hair, his other hand ripped his loincloth away. His mouth claimed hers, and she growled lustfully into his lips and onto his tongue as he devoured that succulent fruit. Then his hands ripped through the gauze of her dress, chuckling at the sound of dismay that rose up in her, taunting her by tearing the fabric from her breasts and scraping his claws across the soft amber flesh of her. The dress would not be the only thing that he ruined this night. His teeth pressed into the plump meat of her lower lip, grabbing and holding tightly, ignoring the change in her voice from desire and lust to fear and pain. He felt rather than saw her realization that her own pleasures would not be his concern this night. Her pitiful cry that warmed his face also made him nearly crazy with desire for her. As she struggled, as her claws found purchase on his shoulder and spine, he rolled atop her on the bed.

One clawed hand spread open her thighs, peeling her open easily despite the bucking and writhing of her. The other hand claimed her breasts, sharp talons dimpling on either side of her ruby nipple. She screamed then and he released her lip, drawing his head back to admire his vixen-slave. Under him, she seemed so small, and her face not was a twisted mask of agony and panic, her lower lip swollen and red, his fang marks pressed into the pouting lip. Tears gleamed in her dark eyes before she closed them, trying to shut out his leering, joyous expression. Her hot cunt wasn't even damp for him, but he split her open around him with a single thrust of his cock, sending her sliding back on the bedding, saved only by his grip upon her. Another scream split her lips and he drew her back against him, grinding himself in until the base of his cock ground hard into the tight pearl of her clit and his balls slapped her ass.

Again and again he took his pleasure of her, fucked her until her voice was nothing but a wind-song of broken sighs and sobs. His body bowed over her, his leathery wings falling down so that the pinions stroked her tear-stained face, groaning at how tight she was, how every hiccup in her chest make her pussy tighten around his dick that plunged in and out of her. For all her struggles and for her cries of mercy, she was as soaked with her own frothy lust as ever she was when he'd been kind to her. Not that it mattered....all he wanted was to sate the hunger in his balls.

As she wilted under him, tighter than every before, making him have to force himself in with more and more strength just to impale her fully along the length of his cruelly veined cock-flesh, her body twitching and trembling. His climax came like a flood, like a wild beast let out of a cage at long last. The fire burned through him and as his burning hot cum flooded from him, he burned for her, and burned against her, bowing his head down at last to seize her by the throat in his jaws, holding her down fully so she could not writhe and spoil the bliss of his orgasm. In that moment, at the peak of splendor, he saw not the red and charred carnal bliss but the blazing white face of his willful angel-slave.