Angel’s Fall – [FM, Hermaphrodite, Futa, Fantasy, Dubcon, Demoness, Angel, Oral, Blasphemy, Corruption]

The halls of Hell blurred together when one ran long and desperately enough—behind the fleeing angel, his breath coming in labored wheezes, the scrabbling of little talons on the dusty, rock-strewn floors was accompanied by the gleeful, hideous laughter of the imps as they realized they closed in on their quarry.

*Soon*, their little gleeful giggles called wordlessly, *soon, you will be ours to play with.*

He should have never come. Fear cascaded over him, and dread, as he heard the sounds of the pursuing imps grow ever closer. He should not have been brave and tried to stop the cruel creatures’ game they were having with the doomed soul when he had seen them—but, Uriel was Uriel, and he could not help himself but to cry out, to try to save the poor, mistreated man.

At his shout, the imps had abandoned their prey, but their ravenous desire for pain and torment had turned on him, instead. A foreseeable outcome, but one he was naively unprepared for.

He’d fled, and their game had begun anew: this time, with him as the target.

Uriel had placed himself within Hell’s unhallowed halls with what could only be described as the best of intentions: looking to save a lost friend. The labyrinth had swallowed up Nithael three days prior, and after the second day, Uriel had descended to the underworld to seek his closest friend.

Instead, the small, subdued angel had found only pain, sadness, and imps preying on those who exuded those hopeless emotions. He had not found his friend, and worse, he had lost his way, too. As the dark, featureless halls of Hell swept past him, his steps growing weary, he knew that he was running out of time.

He did not see the waiting imp, but it surely saw him.

The impact came at his knees, causing him to tumble onto the dusty floor, his breath leaving him in a painful huff. In only moments, the imps that had been pursuing him caught up, cackling with joy as their primitive plan unfolded flawlessly, piling upon the angel—his gentle, pure form so different from the twisted, monstrous appearances of the imps. His small wings and halo, still lit with the internal white light of Heaven’s glory, seemed dim in comparison to the dark, cruelly-twisted forms of the devilish imps.

A cry tore from the angel’s lips as an imp’s taloned claws dug into the heavenly robes that clad his body, the material ripping and tearing loudly, even as the grasping, snaring hands reached for the body underneath.

“*No*!” the angel cried, the soft keen of despair slipping from him unbidden, and it only caused the imps to laugh and cackle louder, his pain spurring their frenzy on. This close, Uriel saw their hard members, rigid and dripping, as their hands clawed at him, enjoying the fear and pain that their presence brought him. “Unhand me!”

*What is he? What is it? What can we do with it? Taste it, beat it, claim it—it is ours!*

Their chaotic thoughts weren’t words spoken aloud, more a clamoring inside his head, their hunger for his inherent holiness frightening as the angel found that the imps kept coming. Three, four, six clambered onto him, shredding the white and gold robes that hid his nudity from their lustful, covetous gazes.

A gasp escaped Uriel as a taloned claw found his member, exposed now that his angelic robes had been stripped away in tatters, squeezing it, and another cry escaped the angel: frightened, and something more. He didn’t know the feeling, a new feeling, and he whimpered in fear. What would the imps do to him? He had heard stories.

Hot air washed over him, like the exhale of a giant across his newly-bared skin, and a softer, smarter voice said:

*What if Master likes it? Would Master be pleased?*

The imps paused in their assault, curious at the prospect. Uriel didn’t know which of the imps had posed the question, but mercifully, it spoke a wisdom that even the animalistic imps couldn’t deny.

*Master may be pleased! Rewards! Take it to Master, Master will know what to do!*

The groping did not stop as the imps pushed him to his feet, urging him on, stumbling forward into a darkness his angelic gaze couldn’t pierce.

*Go! Go! Take it to the Master!*

The weeping of the damned grew tiresome after a millennia, and even the pleas of the hopeful were doing little to stifle her growing boredom. How many years had it been since Hell had brought her anything other than a tired apathy?

*Sire! Sire! Master Sitri! Sire!*

The imps. A scowl crossed Sitri’s dark features, her talons curling into the stone armrests of her magnificent throne as she considered her own torments. About her, damned souls writhed in ecstasy, their bodies contorted in agonizing pleasure as their sins were reenacted for eternity. The demoness sighed.

“Why do you bother me?” she asked, her voice pained. The imps’ voices carried before them, but soon they rounded the corner to her throne room, and she saw that they bore something struggling between them. A soul?

*A gift! We bring Master a gift! A trespasser! Are you pleased?*

The demon Princess’s hollowed gaze lingered on the struggling, writhing form that was held between several of the imps—the creatures clung to his hands and legs, spreading him before the Princess’s curiosity. Some even fondled the angel, much to its displeasure.

For that was what he was, Sitri was sure of it: an angel. A lesser one, perhaps, one who had strayed from his home out of arrogance or naivety, but here he was.

Sitri leaned forward, trying not to let her excitement show. If the imps knew how pleased she was with their find, they would be insatiable in their demands for repayment. “What is this?” she asked, keeping her tone bored, though between her legs her cock stirred to fullness, a hunger digging its claws into her. “What have you brought me, imps?”

The creatures skittered, nervous, but steadied themselves.

*We bring Master a trespasser! Reward? Sire? Master will give us a reward for our gift?*

The angel cried out as the imps dug their little talons into his pristine, squirming body, and Sitri felt her lust rise within her at his voice—pure, ringing like bells across her hallowed home.

“Enough,” she snapped, her rigid length throbbing painfully as she stood, “bring it here. I will judge if it’s a worthy gift.”

The imps skittered forward, bearing their gift proudly but with great trepidation.

The angel couldn’t draw his gaze away from the Demon Princess, fear and revulsion pulsing through the small, trembling form that was held so easily between the corrupt creatures of Hell. The imps pinched and teased him, their breaths hot and lascivious as they surrounded him, urging him towards the massive Princess’s outstretched talon.

She was magnificent, and awful to behold – skin of deep crimson, through cracked with black lines like those of cooling lava. Her body was that of a temptress’s, bountiful and lush, though with a certain sharpness that somehow hinted at her true, crueler nature. Thick, curling horns swept back over black locks of hair, and a sharp, barbed tail extended from behind her bare body. She was nude, of course, but instead of having a woman’s mound between her thick thighs, she bore the erect, throbbing need of a cock.

An abomination, if Uriel had ever seen one.

The talon was sharp as it lifted Uriel’s chin, urging him to look upwards to the demoness’s piercing, hollow stare. “What brings you to my realm, little one?” she breathed, softly, and Uriel trembled at the lust that he heard within that aching growl. Looking into those eyes, he could feel himself becoming lost, something hot and unknown making his heart race.

But the Demon Princess did not let him answer. Instead, she turned to the imps, snarling, “I will take this. In return you may have them,” she gestured towards a group of clustered, whimpering souls, not yet damned in their eternal tortures. The imps could amuse themselves for a time and give her a free moment with this interesting prize.

The imps cackled—*So many toys! Master is kind! We will find more gifts for Master! We will!*

The Princess waited for the imps to take their prizes and flee the hall, then she turned to the angel. The simple creatures had released their hold on their “gift,” yet the Princess’s talon still remained at the angel’s throat. Uriel didn’t move, the prick of the Princess’s claw holding the angel still despite his evident fear.

“You should not have given those poor souls to those imps,” Uriel said softly, horrified, unable to stay his tongue. He had seen the cruelties that the imps had wrought upon the single soul he had attempted to save, and this cruel demoness had sacrificed half a dozen to the same fate.

“Oh?” Sitri asked, chuckling, her hand closing around the angel’s throat in a solid, silencing snare. The clawed thumb gently rested against the angel’s pulse, feeling it beat underneath the pristine skin—another reminder of an angel’s fallibility. “They are mine, though, to do with as I wish.” Her eyes roamed over the small, subdued form of the angel, and her cock pulsed visibly before the beautiful creature’s face. “As are you, angel. Mine.”

“No, s-stop! Unhand me!” The angel’s ringing cry was almost too much for Sitri to resist—

“Oh, yes.” The Demon Princess grabbed the angel, one massive claw wrapped around Uriel’s delicate throat, the other gripping his naked thigh to hoist him to the Princess’s waist, grinding the angel against her erection. “And I shall claim you, so that you know it to be so.”

The angel’s small member was half-hard even before the demon began to grind her thick, dark cock against it, smearing her oozing precum against the pulsing shaft, and it didn’t take long for the small rod to begin to drip with the angel’s own growing desire. The Princess chuckled, amused—she had always wondered if angels were as corruptible as was rumored. Fallible reflections of the Almighty Himself.

Uriel had no chance to fight the demon off—Sitri, one of the lost Princesses of Hell, easily lifted his slight body and placed him onto her cold, stone throne that she had been lounging upon minutes before. The demoness pinned the writhing form with claws and a tail that the angel had not seen fully until it slipped out from behind the enormous, forceful silhouette of the dark princess.

“Struggling is use no use,” the Princess promised, though she didn’t advise the angel to stop. The squirming excited her, and she growled in pleasure as she ground herself between the angel’s legs. She had questions, though, and she knew she could not rush this moment. She needed to know the angel’s quest, first.

The Princess loomed over her prize, pressing her massive body against the angel’s, smothering him, and she felt the small, rigid cock pulse against hers against its master’s will.

“Who are you?” the Princess asked again, growling the question onto the sweet, virgin flesh of the angelic captive, nipping him as she rolled her hips forward, feeling her balls slap against her prize’s nude thighs. She wished to bury herself in her new toy, but not yet. “And why have you come to my domain?”

Uriel did not know if he should answer—did not know if he even could. Fear and something else held his tongue rigid, but when he did not respond, the Princess’s taloned claws gently slipped into his mouth, pressing his tongue town and sliding into his throat. The angel’s heart raced and his member grew painfully hard, and only the demoness’s cock grinding against him brought the building pressure any release.

“What is wrong?” Sitri asked, letting her displeasure ring in her tone, “does your tongue suddenly not work?”

The angel moaned, but whatever words he tried to utter in his defense were lost, as the demoness’s fingers slid deeper into the angel’s mouth, gagging him. At once, Sitri’s cock seized in excitement as she heard the gargle, and she knew that if the angel could not find his tongue on his own, she would happily oblige in finding it for him.

Sitri stood, her 6’6” height towering over the angel as he sprawled on the throne, still pinned by the Demon Princess’s tail and a taloned foot that lightly pressed the angel into the stone chair. Her cock was erect and directed at Uriel’s face. Her hands cupped the angel’s cheek, for a moment almost gentle as she looked down at her prize.

“Who are you?” She asked again, just to see.

After a moment, the angel finally said, “Uriel.”

Uriel. Sitri would have to give the imps another reward, for bringing her so fine a toy.

There was an anxious look to the angel as he peered up at Sitri that assured the demoness that the angel would have answered any other questions she asked, and so, the Princess did not ask. Instead, her grip tightened on the angel’s head, pulling him down onto her engorged, throbbing cock, groaning as, at first, barely a fourth of her length fit into the angel’s mouth.

Uriel moaned in panic as the demoness suddenly and forcefully filled his mouth with her fat, hot member, choking the angel with the massive girth. He could taste the salty precum of the demoness, and as the demon’s clawed talons dragged him closer to her infernal body, he could smell the intense musk and sulfuric odor of the demon Princess. The scent caused his member to twitch in excitement, and a whimper of dismay to echo from the pinned angel. Saliva pooled around the demon’s hot cock, dripping down Uriel’s chin, and tears gathered as he felt his shame and sins grow.

The demon’s hands tightened on the sides of the angel’s head, holding him still as she began to thrust into her captive’s gaping mouth, the girthy cockhead gliding between the quivering lips.

Sitri fucked the tight, clenching mouth of the angel, loving the way that her prize’s hands flew to her thighs and pushed, trying to shove her off. She could feel herself dripping precum down the angel’s gullet, her growl a vocalization of pleasure at how the angel couldn’t possibly succeed. Uriel had answered one question, his name. In a moment, Sitri would see if he would answer another. But first, she knew her toy was close.

The angel gasped and choked on the member as it plundered his mouth, the demon’s balls slapping against his chin as the Princess’s hips rocked forward, slamming into his throat again and again. His mouth and lips were raw from the demon’s girth shoving deeper, forcing him to accommodate her size, and the back of his throat was tender from the rigid cockhead slamming into it and bending down.

A taloned claw gripped the angel’s throat, feeling the way Uriel expanded to fit her, and the tail of Sitri wrapped around Uriel’s tiny member, squeezing and stroking it until the precum dribbled in rivulets from his slit. She wanted to take no chances that her toy might slip away and return to Heaven, no chances at all.

She would ensure that Uriel remained with her.

The angel was completely at the Demon Princess’s mercy, whimpering and moaning as his mouth was plundered and his cock was teased, feeling a building pressure within his member that he was unfamiliar with, but he desperately craved release for. The demon’s tail stroked against his shaft, and each time it tightened around him he moaned—in turn, the demoness’s cock oozed more precum down the angel’s throat, and he whimpered, lost in a cycle.

Pleasure won out.

Uriel gasped as his member seized, the tension that had been building suddenly bursting in a euphoric wave that he’d never felt before but made every nerve within him sing with delight. He panted, but as the Demon Princess realized what was happening, the rigid member that had been sliding in and out of his throat plowed deeply back in his gaping maw, choking the captive angel. Uriel’s meager rod continued to jerk and pulse, even as the demon’s balls slapped lewdly into his face, again and again, taking advantage of the angel’s sinful distraction.

Sitri growled as she fucked the cumming angel’s mouth, finding an infernal pleasure in knowing that she corrupted one of the Almighty’s Creations, that the cum that drained from the angel’s prick onto the stone throne was a damnation of the angel, and a chain that bound him to Sitri’s side.

The angel’s whimpering cries were choked off entirely by the Princess’s cock suddenly burying deep within his throat, holding him, pinning him as the angel writhed. The demoness snarled, feeling her own release within reach —

Uriel’s panic and confusion grew, mingling with the pleasure, until he felt the pulsing of the shaft buried within his mouth. Having just felt his own climax, he knew the demoness’s approached, too. But he could not flee, even as he desperately tried to pull away.

The Princess’s talons choked him, holding him, as cum suddenly gushed into his mouth and down his clenching throat. The angel’s cry of surprise and dismay was quickly subdued as he was forced to swallow or choke, and he so he swallowed, gulping at the cum and the cock that spurted it between his trembling lips. The angel, inexperienced, felt the thick, white seed of the demonic princess drip down his mouth onto his body, but the girthy shaft was softening.

Sitri pulled her cock out of her prize’s mouth, staring down at the trembling, weakened form. Covered in cum, both his new master’s and his own, the angel hardly resembled any kind of celestial creature.

“Why are you here?” Sitri asked, now, her talons still pinning the angel, but there was no fight left in the creature. He trembled on the throne, dripping, humiliated.

“I was searching for a friend,” Uriel said, finally, his voice small. “Nithael. He went missing—did you do this to him, too?”

The Demon Princess didn’t answer, and her silence was taken by the angel to be an affirmative.

Instead, the Princess asked, “What will you do now, little one? Will you return to Heaven as you are?” The tone she used was mocking, and the angel felt his body heat with shame, even as the cum cooled across his skin. His robes were in shreds somewhere in the labyrinth, and his body reeked of the demoness’s musk and semen.

Uriel had no place in Heaven, not now. The shame he felt was across his body, but it wasn’t only the demoness’s shame he bore—he bore his own. Shame, and sin. He would not be welcome in the holiest of holy places.

“You can stay here, in my Palace, pet,” Sitri offered, a smirk crossing her dark, hollowed features. “But only if you are good, and you heed your new Master well.”

The angel’s gaze upon her felt horrified, and Sitri chuckled. She had expected that response.

“Or, I can give you back to the imps,” the Princess offered, her voice soft, gentle, as the angel didn’t answer. “I’m sure they would love to see you again.” The demoness’s cock stirred at the thought of seeing the angel being tossed into a pit of imps, to be used with as they wished, but she didn’t call the creatures in just yet. “They are grateful for any and all gifts they receive.”

The angel had gone still. His mind raced, fear, despair filling him, as well as a lingering feeling of something he didn’t fully understand.

Uriel finally, hesitantly, his words spoken softly to the looming form of the Demon Princess, “I choose you.”

Sitri chuckled, feeling her cock harden in anticipation. “Then I will make sure everyone knows it.”

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/vkd9qp/angels_fall_fm_hermaphrodite_futa_fantasy_dubcon

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