The Fall (m/f, sexual, interrogation, fantasy)
A/n: More original stuff, first foray into m/f to appeal to everyone's sensibilities.
--
"You're sure you're ready to go in, Michael?" The smaller servant asked, chewing nervously at his lower lip. His small grey wings, still fluffy with down, fluttered nervously as he glanced at the ancient key in his hands.
In the hall, the lesser angel stood with Michael the Arc, the experienced angel's wings dwarfing the smaller.
"As always, Luke, I am prepared." Replied Michael, dusting away his junior's worries. He plucked the key from the student's fingers and inserted it into the heavy lock before them.
"They say this one is different- has tempted thousands-" The student stuttered, watching the key turn as old runes lit up one by one, flaring and vanishing around the edges of the blessed door.
"And that would be why they chose me." A flap of his wings was enough to silence the younger angel, and Michael's strong hands tugged the door open to the dungeon.
"Oh, so they sent a blonde one this time." Purred the Being on the stocks, her brows arched as the heavy door closed and sealed again. She stretched as much as her bonds would allow, and even the light from the stained glass windows bent to look scintillatingly sinful over her red skin. "I've been keeping track. Soon I'll have an Angel bingo."
"I'd wave, but you know.." She pursed her lips in a pout, wiggling her bound fingers as much as she could. "Before you they'd only chained me. Now this? Fingers, toes.. Even my poor tail is tied..." The forked appendage in question curled in its blessed shackles, causing the thin metal strands to turn white hot with effort. She smirked, batting her lashes at Michael. "Did I finally break enough of you to make you understand how dangerous I am?"
"How many Angels you've caused to Fall is irrelevant, and will not be discussed." Michael said, evenly. "You've been prepared this way for me."
"Don't I feel special." The demon drawled, tossing her dark hair and arching on the x-frame stocks. The jangle of the chains was bewitched by her powers, tinkling sweetly where they should have been clattering. She fixed her slit green eyes on him and hummed. "A girl like me loves to get dressed up for dates."
"Why are you here?" Michael asked, his voice even as he walked over and calmly inspected the runes around her. "Belay your plans and admit why you were free in the land between heaven and hell, and you -may- be released back where you belong."
"Oh, so you'd let me go on good behavior? That's so.. Angelic of you." The Demon slid in, angling to whisper into his ear. "How boring~." Her knee drifted up as much as the rigging would allow, lightly touching Michael's robes. Despite the material being blessed, it singed. "I came here for -fun-. It was boring in heaven, so I went to hell. Hell was even worse.. Perpetual torment in and out.. Domination after domination, victim after victim... I want to play." She wiggled, causing another spray of light tinkling music. "Humans are so much fun! They'll mix pleasure and pain, torment and delight... I'm addicted. I love to inflict, what can I say?"
"Lies." Michael said, his tone even and controlled as he pulled away from her. Walking carefully over to the wall, he ran his fingers over the ancient tools of extraction there, selecting a delicate set of silver pliers etched with ancient runes.
"You can't hurt me." The Demon drawled, seemingly bored again. "Others have tried, and I've beaten them. Tempted them. You should know, considering all the Angels you consider 'irrelevant'." She mocked with a soft laugh, impersonating his voice and heating up her bonds.
"This instrument is not for you." Michael said, simply, and it was difficult not to smile as the Demon returned to her bored pout. He squared his expression, telling himself not to be tempted by her. He had a job to do- and a reputation to withhold. With that, he flexed the pliers and pried feathers away from his wings.
There was a little blood- there was always some- but he knew they would grow back and heal in time. As his most deadly weapon, he was grateful to use them in battle and inquisition.
A soft breath rendered the feathers ready to use, and soon he was prepared to turn back to his captive, for now wielding one contour feather to each hand. The Demon twitched.
"Not all creatures have souls, but most have the ability to feel. Demons do- they must- to be able to derive pleasure from other's pain." With the Demon held tightly in place, Michael drew the first feather lightly from her palm and extended fingers down to her elbow. "Tell me, do you feel?"
Unlike before, where she'd been prepared to speak and barb, now the Demon was silent. Her body trembled and her lips thinned, her fingers fighting to curl despite the bondage keeping them stretched. Her tail flickered, and finally she shivered- a delicate acknowledgement of sensation trailing down her frame.
Finally, she spoke.
"I'm not ticklish." She said. Michael smiled.
"These feathers are sacred. They can render the most guarded to simple tears. Beyond that, I'm sure you're lying. Demons tend to." His feather began to slide, fluttering down her arm and sneaking to tease at the smooth hollow of her pit.
"F-" The chamber silenced the rest of the word spitting from the Demoness' mouth as she jerked away. It made her blink, momentarily forgetting the feather to speak out every expletive she knew. "C---- , C---, S---, " The list went on until. "Hell!" And the word trailed into a high squeal as Michael drew the feather down her side.
"That word has duel meaning." He explained calmly, drawing complex ticking sigils over her skin, trailing it into her belly button.
"Oh-" She said, understanding, but soon the word turned into soft little gasps as the feather niggled into her button. "Oh-oh-ohohoo No!" She gasped and bucked, sweat sliding down her skin as she tried to escape the touch.
"As I predicted." Michael said, brandishing the new feather to trace the hollows of her hips. The Demoness whooped and cackled, thrashing against the frame enough to make it rock, her body bobbing as sweat trickled down her skin. The air was thick with the sulphur smell of her kind, mingled with a sweet spice as her tail twitched and flickered and her toes splayed. "Tell me the truth." He said, ignoring the infernal scents and sliding down to her captive feet.
"I- Did-" She gasped, trying to tug her feet away, although a delighted smile remained on her face. Perhaps she was anticipating the touch of the feather, which twirled inches away from her flexing arch. "Nh- hee-"
"Lies." Michael whispered, and started the assault on her sole. He drew both feathers up and down her arch, teased between her tied toes, circled the ball and fluttered along the sides. The Demoness wasn't capable of speaking truths, so making her incapable of speech with laughter was fit punishment.
She howled and writhed in the stocks, every muscle working as her tresses flowed wildly and tickled at her neck and shoulders.
"oh- f---- , please- I- eehee- Not my fee-Hee-heet! It's too- too-"
"Torturous?" Michael asked, sending her into another torrent of laughter as he threaded the feathers between her big and little toes of each foot and began to saw. He flexed his wings inward, allowing the outer feathers to trail up and down her pits before circling around and around her breasts.
She was going far madder than even Demons allowed themselves.
"Neehee- Hee- ah- Ah f----! I me-Hee-Hee-n HELL!"
"Heel?" Michael asked, swirling the feather teasingly around that particular part of her foot.
"Nohoho!" She gasped. "You won't listen!"
"Ah, so you have something to tell me now." Michael straightened up, though his wings remained poised over the Demoness' heaving breasts as she gasped for breath.
"Mmmn..." She panted, grinning at him. *"No. You won't listen to me. I'm telling the truth. Besides that, you aren't even tickling my most ticklish spots. Some Angelic Tickler- you can't even tell where I'm most vulnerable."
Michael frowned, and his wings quivered. A quick glance with his aura at the beginning of the session had told him exactly where the Demoness was most ticklish, but...
<i>Heel?</i>
He was already feeling his resolve slipping. He wasn't supposed to enjoy or react to interrogation. And to tickle her where she would be most reactive would..
The Demoness licked her lips as she waited, her legs quivering as she attempted to stay still.
"You're afraid." She taunted.
It would be folly to tease her most vulnerable spot. It was too dangerous- she'd ensnared far to many of his brothers-
"Too cowardly to do away with the worst threat your Cavalry has ever seen-" She cooed.
But If he did... she would break.
He uttered a quick prayer before walking over to the stocks and switching their position, laying her horizontal and positioning himself between her spread legs. She shivered.
She was already slightly moist, her pouting lips hairless and vulnerable, almost quivering like her thighs. He drew up the feather, and for a moment he heard her whimper.
"You can repent." He offered, hovering the feathers over the bowls of her hip.
"I don't want to." She breathed, her abdomen tensed and her toes flexing in anticipation.
"As you say." Michael frowned, and flew in with the feathers. Caressing her hips, toying down her thighs, stroking so softly at her bouncing cheeks, the Demoness was soon lost to a world of laughter and fevered suffocation. Her muscles tensed and her lips pursed as she fell for a moment into pure soundless laughter. He flexed his wings, and sent them to attack her soles.
By the time his pin feathers were teasing between each digit, the feathers in his hands were stroking up and down the sensitive stretch of skin that lead from her puckering pink hole to her mound, causing her to shriek and buck her hips.
His own lips were moments away from her thrusting mound, and he blew lightly across her helpless outer lips just to hear her giggle.
"Oh- no- nhhh!" She squealed and wriggled, her thighs tense as she tried to sneak her vulnerable pussy away. "Neehee! Not there-"
"Tell me your secrets." Michael hissed, sliding one feather to saw teasingly up and down her slit, and holding her lips open with the other hand so that the tips of his wings could circle around her clit. Never to touch, just to tease and tease and tease-
"M-my secret-" She gasped, thrusting her hips to the soft feathers amidst helpless trills of laughter. "I-is that-"
He worked the circle tighter and tighter-
"I -love- this!" She whimpered, and moaned so long and do sweet that Michael felt chilled to the bone.
That one sound lit up parts of himself that had been locked away for almost all of time itself, and warm liquid heat swelled from the pit of his stomach and threatened to over take him.
"P-please-" She gasped, groaning as she flexed to try and get more- more- "I-I've been alive for so many years- been through heaven as hell, and learned to live on earth- to feel pleasure mixed with torture- but nothing- nh- it wasn't f------ good enough! And that was HELL!"
He needed to stop, but the confession pouring from her lips made him burn and feel- his feathers were working on their own, caressing her outer lips, circling the mound-
"I got caught- I went through them all-"
He was losing control as his feathers circled closer and closer to her clit, his robes tight with the arousal bursting in his frame.
"To get to You!"
The flick of the feather across her clit was all it took to send them both into an orgasm so intense that it shook the stones of the interrogation room.
The chains around her melted and she fell into his arms as the stained glass windows exploded inwards. His wings folded around them, protecting them even as they singed to a dark black color.
Even as he gained his footing, he felt the stones giving away under neath them, and his robes burned away as the ground collapsed beneath them.
As his dark wings were bound, she drew herself to him and they kissed, feeling revelation in each others hold despite the danger around them.
They fell.
A/n: More original stuff, first foray into m/f to appeal to everyone's sensibilities.
--
"You're sure you're ready to go in, Michael?" The smaller servant asked, chewing nervously at his lower lip. His small grey wings, still fluffy with down, fluttered nervously as he glanced at the ancient key in his hands.
In the hall, the lesser angel stood with Michael the Arc, the experienced angel's wings dwarfing the smaller.
"As always, Luke, I am prepared." Replied Michael, dusting away his junior's worries. He plucked the key from the student's fingers and inserted it into the heavy lock before them.
"They say this one is different- has tempted thousands-" The student stuttered, watching the key turn as old runes lit up one by one, flaring and vanishing around the edges of the blessed door.
"And that would be why they chose me." A flap of his wings was enough to silence the younger angel, and Michael's strong hands tugged the door open to the dungeon.
"Oh, so they sent a blonde one this time." Purred the Being on the stocks, her brows arched as the heavy door closed and sealed again. She stretched as much as her bonds would allow, and even the light from the stained glass windows bent to look scintillatingly sinful over her red skin. "I've been keeping track. Soon I'll have an Angel bingo."
"I'd wave, but you know.." She pursed her lips in a pout, wiggling her bound fingers as much as she could. "Before you they'd only chained me. Now this? Fingers, toes.. Even my poor tail is tied..." The forked appendage in question curled in its blessed shackles, causing the thin metal strands to turn white hot with effort. She smirked, batting her lashes at Michael. "Did I finally break enough of you to make you understand how dangerous I am?"
"How many Angels you've caused to Fall is irrelevant, and will not be discussed." Michael said, evenly. "You've been prepared this way for me."
"Don't I feel special." The demon drawled, tossing her dark hair and arching on the x-frame stocks. The jangle of the chains was bewitched by her powers, tinkling sweetly where they should have been clattering. She fixed her slit green eyes on him and hummed. "A girl like me loves to get dressed up for dates."
"Why are you here?" Michael asked, his voice even as he walked over and calmly inspected the runes around her. "Belay your plans and admit why you were free in the land between heaven and hell, and you -may- be released back where you belong."
"Oh, so you'd let me go on good behavior? That's so.. Angelic of you." The Demon slid in, angling to whisper into his ear. "How boring~." Her knee drifted up as much as the rigging would allow, lightly touching Michael's robes. Despite the material being blessed, it singed. "I came here for -fun-. It was boring in heaven, so I went to hell. Hell was even worse.. Perpetual torment in and out.. Domination after domination, victim after victim... I want to play." She wiggled, causing another spray of light tinkling music. "Humans are so much fun! They'll mix pleasure and pain, torment and delight... I'm addicted. I love to inflict, what can I say?"
"Lies." Michael said, his tone even and controlled as he pulled away from her. Walking carefully over to the wall, he ran his fingers over the ancient tools of extraction there, selecting a delicate set of silver pliers etched with ancient runes.
"You can't hurt me." The Demon drawled, seemingly bored again. "Others have tried, and I've beaten them. Tempted them. You should know, considering all the Angels you consider 'irrelevant'." She mocked with a soft laugh, impersonating his voice and heating up her bonds.
"This instrument is not for you." Michael said, simply, and it was difficult not to smile as the Demon returned to her bored pout. He squared his expression, telling himself not to be tempted by her. He had a job to do- and a reputation to withhold. With that, he flexed the pliers and pried feathers away from his wings.
There was a little blood- there was always some- but he knew they would grow back and heal in time. As his most deadly weapon, he was grateful to use them in battle and inquisition.
A soft breath rendered the feathers ready to use, and soon he was prepared to turn back to his captive, for now wielding one contour feather to each hand. The Demon twitched.
"Not all creatures have souls, but most have the ability to feel. Demons do- they must- to be able to derive pleasure from other's pain." With the Demon held tightly in place, Michael drew the first feather lightly from her palm and extended fingers down to her elbow. "Tell me, do you feel?"
Unlike before, where she'd been prepared to speak and barb, now the Demon was silent. Her body trembled and her lips thinned, her fingers fighting to curl despite the bondage keeping them stretched. Her tail flickered, and finally she shivered- a delicate acknowledgement of sensation trailing down her frame.
Finally, she spoke.
"I'm not ticklish." She said. Michael smiled.
"These feathers are sacred. They can render the most guarded to simple tears. Beyond that, I'm sure you're lying. Demons tend to." His feather began to slide, fluttering down her arm and sneaking to tease at the smooth hollow of her pit.
"F-" The chamber silenced the rest of the word spitting from the Demoness' mouth as she jerked away. It made her blink, momentarily forgetting the feather to speak out every expletive she knew. "C---- , C---, S---, " The list went on until. "Hell!" And the word trailed into a high squeal as Michael drew the feather down her side.
"That word has duel meaning." He explained calmly, drawing complex ticking sigils over her skin, trailing it into her belly button.
"Oh-" She said, understanding, but soon the word turned into soft little gasps as the feather niggled into her button. "Oh-oh-ohohoo No!" She gasped and bucked, sweat sliding down her skin as she tried to escape the touch.
"As I predicted." Michael said, brandishing the new feather to trace the hollows of her hips. The Demoness whooped and cackled, thrashing against the frame enough to make it rock, her body bobbing as sweat trickled down her skin. The air was thick with the sulphur smell of her kind, mingled with a sweet spice as her tail twitched and flickered and her toes splayed. "Tell me the truth." He said, ignoring the infernal scents and sliding down to her captive feet.
"I- Did-" She gasped, trying to tug her feet away, although a delighted smile remained on her face. Perhaps she was anticipating the touch of the feather, which twirled inches away from her flexing arch. "Nh- hee-"
"Lies." Michael whispered, and started the assault on her sole. He drew both feathers up and down her arch, teased between her tied toes, circled the ball and fluttered along the sides. The Demoness wasn't capable of speaking truths, so making her incapable of speech with laughter was fit punishment.
She howled and writhed in the stocks, every muscle working as her tresses flowed wildly and tickled at her neck and shoulders.
"oh- f---- , please- I- eehee- Not my fee-Hee-heet! It's too- too-"
"Torturous?" Michael asked, sending her into another torrent of laughter as he threaded the feathers between her big and little toes of each foot and began to saw. He flexed his wings inward, allowing the outer feathers to trail up and down her pits before circling around and around her breasts.
She was going far madder than even Demons allowed themselves.
"Neehee- Hee- ah- Ah f----! I me-Hee-Hee-n HELL!"
"Heel?" Michael asked, swirling the feather teasingly around that particular part of her foot.
"Nohoho!" She gasped. "You won't listen!"
"Ah, so you have something to tell me now." Michael straightened up, though his wings remained poised over the Demoness' heaving breasts as she gasped for breath.
"Mmmn..." She panted, grinning at him. *"No. You won't listen to me. I'm telling the truth. Besides that, you aren't even tickling my most ticklish spots. Some Angelic Tickler- you can't even tell where I'm most vulnerable."
Michael frowned, and his wings quivered. A quick glance with his aura at the beginning of the session had told him exactly where the Demoness was most ticklish, but...
<i>Heel?</i>
He was already feeling his resolve slipping. He wasn't supposed to enjoy or react to interrogation. And to tickle her where she would be most reactive would..
The Demoness licked her lips as she waited, her legs quivering as she attempted to stay still.
"You're afraid." She taunted.
It would be folly to tease her most vulnerable spot. It was too dangerous- she'd ensnared far to many of his brothers-
"Too cowardly to do away with the worst threat your Cavalry has ever seen-" She cooed.
But If he did... she would break.
He uttered a quick prayer before walking over to the stocks and switching their position, laying her horizontal and positioning himself between her spread legs. She shivered.
She was already slightly moist, her pouting lips hairless and vulnerable, almost quivering like her thighs. He drew up the feather, and for a moment he heard her whimper.
"You can repent." He offered, hovering the feathers over the bowls of her hip.
"I don't want to." She breathed, her abdomen tensed and her toes flexing in anticipation.
"As you say." Michael frowned, and flew in with the feathers. Caressing her hips, toying down her thighs, stroking so softly at her bouncing cheeks, the Demoness was soon lost to a world of laughter and fevered suffocation. Her muscles tensed and her lips pursed as she fell for a moment into pure soundless laughter. He flexed his wings, and sent them to attack her soles.
By the time his pin feathers were teasing between each digit, the feathers in his hands were stroking up and down the sensitive stretch of skin that lead from her puckering pink hole to her mound, causing her to shriek and buck her hips.
His own lips were moments away from her thrusting mound, and he blew lightly across her helpless outer lips just to hear her giggle.
"Oh- no- nhhh!" She squealed and wriggled, her thighs tense as she tried to sneak her vulnerable pussy away. "Neehee! Not there-"
"Tell me your secrets." Michael hissed, sliding one feather to saw teasingly up and down her slit, and holding her lips open with the other hand so that the tips of his wings could circle around her clit. Never to touch, just to tease and tease and tease-
"M-my secret-" She gasped, thrusting her hips to the soft feathers amidst helpless trills of laughter. "I-is that-"
He worked the circle tighter and tighter-
"I -love- this!" She whimpered, and moaned so long and do sweet that Michael felt chilled to the bone.
That one sound lit up parts of himself that had been locked away for almost all of time itself, and warm liquid heat swelled from the pit of his stomach and threatened to over take him.
"P-please-" She gasped, groaning as she flexed to try and get more- more- "I-I've been alive for so many years- been through heaven as hell, and learned to live on earth- to feel pleasure mixed with torture- but nothing- nh- it wasn't f------ good enough! And that was HELL!"
He needed to stop, but the confession pouring from her lips made him burn and feel- his feathers were working on their own, caressing her outer lips, circling the mound-
"I got caught- I went through them all-"
He was losing control as his feathers circled closer and closer to her clit, his robes tight with the arousal bursting in his frame.
"To get to You!"
The flick of the feather across her clit was all it took to send them both into an orgasm so intense that it shook the stones of the interrogation room.
The chains around her melted and she fell into his arms as the stained glass windows exploded inwards. His wings folded around them, protecting them even as they singed to a dark black color.
Even as he gained his footing, he felt the stones giving away under neath them, and his robes burned away as the ground collapsed beneath them.
As his dark wings were bound, she drew herself to him and they kissed, feeling revelation in each others hold despite the danger around them.
They fell.
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