Chapter 3
3
I froze. The order itself was tantalising, but it was also—improbable. Not something I could uphold. “What?”
But no answer was given. Marchosias opened its mouth. Cracked lips craned wide and exposed the wide, fat tongue. The giant licked up my body.
My whole lower half grew wet and warm with its saliva. I yelped, bucking at once away and into the feeling. And this pleased the demon, for it laughed at my distress, and it pinched my wrists slightly harder until I felt the bones of my wrist and forearm strain, the metacarpal crunch and ache. Pain radiated to the tips of my fingers and up my arm, burning even in my shoulder. I couldn’t help it: I let out a yelp.
Marchosias chuckled. It grazed my whole torso with the pad of its thumb. My cock bounced from the movement. I kicked the air; I must have looked pathetic, suspended like that, with my cock responding in such a degenerate way. Marchosias spun me and let go of my wrists, gripping my body instead around my waist. My arms dropped heavily, and I gasped, ribs aching from the new pressure. It lowered me down, and I became frightened of being subsumed in the ever-constant light radiating from its groin. The fear overrode all sense. What might give this fallen angel more pleasure: to split me over a cock it lacked or to smite a sinner in the golden light of its nether region? A cruel joke, as befits a demon!
But it did not do anything of the sort. It positioned me gently over its thigh, hand moulding how I sat, how my legs straddled its large thigh, and when it was pleased with this position, it pressed its large forefinger against my back and pushed me down. I folded over and relaxed immediately. My body knew what was coming. My face pressed against curling hairs and warm skin, an early moan curling deep in my chest as my cock twitched towards the warmth. Marchosias grazed my back, thumb large enough to wedge between my cheeks and spread me with one deft motion. Its finger pressed against my hole, nudging between the cheeks like a cockhead. As large as one, if not larger, too.
“F-fuck?—”
I expected it to press inside, but it kept one finger close to my hole, and it crept its other hand up my body, stroking over my waist until I was shivering from the stimulation. Its free hand caressed my pointed nipples, and I couldn’t help but writhe forward towards the sensation.
Marchosias chuckled.
The full extent of my arousal was a sudden thing. I was rock hard against Marchosias’ thigh and grinding desperately in every direction, eager for any kind of pressure.
Marchosias’ hands left my nipples. A single finger stroked my head, like I was some pet, and with every touch a starburst of a vision exploded behind my eyes. Marchosias mined my mind for information, for every illicit thought I’d had during my time in the monastery. It rubbed my hole and teased all areas of my body, and at the same time, it called forth humiliating memories, things that had been so shameful I had buried them deep. The memory where my wandering mind had made my cock swell in the middle of a sermon. The memory where I’d taken the confession of a brown, bearded man from the town I was serving, how I had stumbled over my blessing as the thought of his work-hardened body pressing against mine ravaged my attention. I’d thought of his stubble against my balls, the hot tongue sucking gently. I’d imagined him standing up to tower over me, to put me on my knees. I’d been so enamoured with the thought I had almost forgotten to absolve him of his sins.
And then the thoughts changed to the feelings I’d dealt with afterwards. The shame. Or worse: how the shame and the taboo had only made my erection stronger, how I’d fucked my own palm like a desperate slut, rutting up and panting, and only when I’d found that release could I sit with the horror of my mind and what it had conjured.
Now, with Marchosias calling these forth, a flicker of that old shame resurfaced. I couldn’t stay focused. The pleasure waned—I felt the blood rushing from my cock to my cheeks—and I tried to press up. Marchosias withdrew its finger from my head and used it to slam my lower back down.
“ Where do you think you’re going ?”
I whimpered. My back ached as it was forced to arch, and the angle forced my face to smash against the warm thigh. Curled hair pushed into my mouth. A smear of saliva dribbled from the corner of my mouth.
Marchosias made a pleased sound and used both its hands to drag my body back along its thigh. It reached around and pressed its index finger to my lips. I licked out with a moan. Its finger pressed against my teeth and gently edged them open, and I allowed it: I opened wide and rocked forward to urge it inside.
It was as wide as a cock, larger than a human’s but smaller than Asmodeus’ had been. And so instinct took over. I licked its finger, gentle around the tip like it really was a cock. I pooled more saliva into my mouth and then sank low, stopping before the second knuckle. Marchosias made a sound of approval. I must have looked whorish. Pathetic. I was arched and rubbing my dry cock along its skin, ass spread, and eyes closed, moaning wantonly. It hadn’t even fucked me yet.
Marchosias let me work for a few minutes, and then it pinched my sides. I flinched, hands racing down to press uselessly against the forefinger and thumb keeping me still. I barely had time to do much else before Marchosias began fucking my throat. Slowly, at first. No deeper than I had gone myself. Every thrust made it slicker, and when it pushed against the sphincter of my throat, I gagged and convulsed. But I couldn’t get away, not with how I was being held. I bucked, struggling. Marchosias only pressed forward until the second knuckle had slipped over my lips.
I went limp.
I focused on breathing. Tears pooled involuntarily in my eyes, and I felt my mouth flood with stringy saliva. Marchosias pulled its finger free, and I felt every ridge of its skin, the bones of its fingers, the sharp tip of its nail drag over my bumped throat and swollen tongue.
I let out a muffled, “Ah!”
Marchosias said nothing and made no sound as it pressed that slicked finger back against my hole. I whimpered, and its other hand wrapped around my waist, poised to tear me off its thigh.
“Wait, wait,” I mumbled, incoherent. Logically, I knew my body had recovered from its prolapsed state. Even the cuts that proved I had summoned Marchosias were almost nearly healed. But I feared to be filled up as intensely.
I was so tense I hadn’t realised Marchosias had paused as I’d asked. I craned around to look at it. Its face was blank, not angry.
Unmoving it said, “ It only works if you want it. I do not wish to break you. I wish for you to prove to me you are ruled by your pleasure .”
My breathing grew rapid. My eyes flicked down to the finger pressed against me and then back up to the demon’s eyes.
“ You can’t take it ?” Marchosias asked. Its tone had shifted—to a teasing, questioning tone. Could I take it? Of course I could. I had taken more! It stroked my head, down my spine. I shivered and arched involuntarily towards its touch, and I felt my hole pucker.
I moaned, head drooping. Why had I bothered to resist? I knew myself too well, and I was the slut Marchosias wanted to see writhing on its fingers. “Fuck me,” I said. “ Please . Stretch me on your fingers. I want?—”
But Marchosias knew what I wanted. It pushed forward. Sturdy pressure popped my hole open, the edges wrapping tightly over the demon’s nail bed. Marchosias wriggled the tip just slightly, and that was enough for my body to remember. A kind of heat doused my body, an arousal so sudden that I felt my hole open to accommodate more of Marchosias’ finger. It did not wait, pressing in over the first knuckle, and from there, it began to move back and forth. All the while, it held my lower half wrapped in its right hand.
“Ah, ah!” I cried out. When I swallowed, I felt that the back of my throat was bruised from the earlier throat fucking. I felt my body tensing; I kept clenching over the width of its finger, hands pressing down against the hold it had around my waist. But nothing I could do would convince it to stop. Marchosias kept making humming noises. The occasional mocking moan would escape its lips seconds after a real one ripped through me. I threw my head back, and that was when the demon repositioned, forcing me to sit upright.
It still held me, allowing me to grow accustomed to the new angle.
But then it let go.
There was nothing beneath my feet. It had dropped me on its finger, and there was nothing I could lean on.
Gravity forced me to slide slowly down onto its finger until the whole thing had impaled me. I whimpered. Pain became pleasure, and then pleasure became too much: the feeling was overwhelming. I jerked to get away—which only made it worse as the finger began to move. My prostate jumped as my cock twitched. Slack-jawed, my head fell back. I gasped. It took its other hand and used one finger to press my chin up ever further. My watery eyes turned to tears as I arched, and gravity made them fall in time with my shuddery breaths.
I was an object, small and portable, and Marchosias was going to use me.
“Fuck yourself,” it commanded.
I weakly tried to bounce. The effect was shameful: I ground my hips, thrusting down and up a mere inch before gravity took over.
Fullness filled my belly, and I groaned, gripping my stomach. There, I could feel the bulge of its finger pressing into my guts.
“Fuck. F-fuck .”
“ As you wish .”
A sharp intake of breath. “W?—”
Marchosias held me in place, suspended perfectly in the air with my legs flopping about. It slowly dragged its finger all the way out of me, and it popped free with a wet shlick . A moment later, it drove back in, just as achingly slow, then out again a fraction faster and in with the same slow, rough force.
And then it threw all caution to the wind and slammed into my ass.
I screamed. Every thrust made me a ragged puppet. All resistance fell away, and the hands I had been using to weakly press against the demon’s grip relaxed and slipped limp by my sides.
The only sound was that of slapping skin as its finger crashed into me over and over. I could have cum if it had let me; I felt my prostate throbbing, and my engorged cock was leaking fluid everywhere, droplets spraying with every rough thrust.
But it had told me I couldn’t. It had specifically told me not to cum, and if my frustration gave Marchosias pleasure, so bet it—because it gave me pleasure, too. I wanted to be pushed to the edge. I wanted my pleasure held above my head like a reward, not a presumption.
It pulled its finger free, and I crumpled forward with a ragged moan. Saliva fell from my open mouth, and I felt my hole pucker around nothing. Marchosias draped me back over its thigh so I was once against lying down with my back arched. Then, it pressed both its thumbs against my whole. The rest of its hands were pulling me open, making me gape, and like that, it pushed in and pulled both fingers to the side in a stretch.
“Oh, fu—” I was gasping, breathing hard. I rocked back and grunted at the sharp pain, and then I was being lifted again. Marchosias was holding me by my ass, thumbs still spreading me wide. I was in a widespread split, upper half dangling, and blood rushed to my head as I slumped forward in the air. Sweat dripped off me, coming to form droplets at the tips of my hair, which fell over my eyes.
“What are you d-doing? Wh?—”
Marchosias responded only with a low moan. I felt its hot breath curling from its throat and over my ass, my balls, my cock. Then, Marchosias’ tongue pressed inside.
I cried out, not from pain but from the warmth and the wetness . The tongue was wide as it lapped up into my insides, turning firm with sudden focus. It fucked forward with intention and then turned wide and soft a moment later.
It ate me with determination. Sometimes Marchosias would slip out and lick up my balls and my cock. Seemingly happy with every desperate buck and thrust, Marchosias did this for minutes until I was insane with want. I reached down between my legs to tug at my swollen cock, but Marchosias pulled its tongue free and hissed at me.
“I’m—I’m sorry—” I gasped, releasing my member. “I won’t cum.”
It was a promise I wouldn’t be able to keep. My body felt electrified, every part hard and poised and ready for release.
Then it flipped me around and?—
Took my cock in its mouth
This sensation shocked me. The pleasure was unfocused, not one of those touches where every nerve felt overstimulated, but one where an even bliss throbbed over my body. I couldn’t help it. I rolled my hips forward, hands pressed to Marchosias’ nose. I had to close my eyes to keep from meeting its large, wide eye, but when it slipped two fingers into my ass and fucked me hard, I snapped them open in shock.
I met the demon’s thrilled expression with my brows crushing together and my mouth open for a stream of moans.
“No—no, I’ll?—”
Marchosias shoved my cock from its lips. The wet, pulsing member flopped against its lips. “Tell me you are slut. Tell me you’re worthless, that you’re beneath me. That I was right; that Samael and the rest of us were right. All humans are like you. Do this, and you can cum.”
“Yes. Yes,” I gasped, grinding my hips against nothing but the skin of its lips. It didn’t wait for me to prove what I would do and let me slip back inside. I moaned. Pleasure was making me dizzy, but the promise of orgasm focused my mind.
“I’m a whore,” I announced in a whisper. Then Marchosias added its tongue, licking up and down furiously, and I cried out, “I’m a whore!”
I melted into its mouth. Wetness escaped its lips, saliva coating my whole groin, my lower stomach, my inner thighs. Marchosias moaned with me, eyes eager.
“I’m a slut. I’m such a slut. I’m nothing; I was made for this. I was meant to be used over and over. You were right. I’m not made for anything more than this; all humans are worthless pieces of meat. All of us are beneath you. Oh, Lord, I can’t ?—”
I broke off into a rough moan, head thrown back and body limp. Pressure was gathering behind my belly. I rocked forward, head rolling down as I snapped my hips forward, again and again into Marchosias’ wet mouth.
“Yes, yes, yes .” My hips slapped against its wet lips. “I’m a slut. I’m such a slut, I’m such a slut, I’m?—”
Orgasm tore through me. I threw my head back in a silent scream. Marchosias didn’t stop, sucking and licking and rocking my body back onto its fingers again and again, and finally, I had to cry out from the feeling. It was too much. Everything was too much. I slumped forward against its nose, dripping and slick and panting.
“I can’t,” I whimpered. “It’s too m—much--!”
Marchosias tore its fingers out of me—I yelled—and placed me on my back, draped over its thigh. I panted, my deflating cock leaking over my thigh and onto Marchosias. I lay there for so long I might have fallen asleep. The pleasure had exhausted me.
Marchosias ran a single wide finger down my body. I shivered and opened my arms.
It looked down at me with a soft smile. “ There is no heaven neither you nor I are getting into. But at the very least, I can be certain I made the right decision all those millennia ago.”
I said nothing, though I possessed the urge to be witty. I did not wish to move; I could see myself being tempted by Marchosias into staying.
“I must find Asmodeus,” I said, rolling over and pushing up, though my arms shook.
When I stood shakily on Marchosias’ thigh, thunderous applause erupted before us. I squinted against the light and saw all of Marchosias’ tournament had given up their battle to witness my destruction. The two giants were roaring and clapping wildly. The imps leapt in the air, and the lesser demons cheered for my display. I shivered and glanced away with shyness, but Marchosias cooed and gently nudged my head back toward them.
It said, “ You have proven to them that they were right, too. Faith can always be shaken, most especially after so much time. ” Marchosias’ hot breath curled over my neck. “ Heaven is not worth it. We will celebrate here !”
It roared, and the cheer was answered. The whole arena lit up with joyous celebration. Marchosias grabbed me and stood, hefting my still recovering body in the air. It put me up on its shoulder.
“ What is next for the human?” it asked me.
“I need to find a Prince of Hell,” I said, and it nodded.
It brought forefinger and thumb to its lips and whistled shrilly. A cry sounded from the air, and two bobbing shapes moved ever closer. Not imps, though.
But cherubim!
The strange creatures that had previously flown away were back, their many heads swivelling in interest, four sets of eyes boring through me. They flew close, and I knew what to do, stretching out my arms for them to grasp. They latched, and I was pulled off Marchosias’ back. All the weight of my body strained against the sockets of my shoulders, but I did not mind the pain.
I craned back to look at Marchosias as we departed. It stood and unfurled its beautiful wings, and I heard trumpets start up again, all their discordance stripped away, so they sounded nearly heavenly.