Page 8 of Sinful Pride
“Now, there’s a few possibilities of kinks we could explore. Impact play, bondage, submission… Let me pull up a list on my phone. Talking through everything would take ages, but instead of pinpointing everything that you don’t want to do, we can find things you think you would enjoy instead. This approach is much simpler and often more effective.”
My mind began to settle. The smooth sound of Raphael’s voice was like a firm guiding hand on my neck, keeping me in place, focused. I nodded along with his explanations until the anxiety turned mostly to anticipation, to hunger for the night ahead.
My punishment was awaiting. My unrevealing.
Soon we stepped into a dark room, a demon hiding inside. I was ready to see what a mix of Heaven and Hell tasted like.
Chapter 4
Tirael
“Finally!” Beelzebub exclaimed as soon as the door closed behind me and Raphael. “All the boring stuff is out of the way, so it’s time to play!”
With that declaration he snapped forward like a viper, his hands clutching at my hair. Only a small sound of terrified surprise escaped my lips before he brought me down.
“On your knees,” he said, and I gazed up at him with something like wonder.
After the calm demeanor and studious explanations of Raphael, this felt like going from a relaxing swim in an Olympic pool to being thrown into the middle of a stormy ocean. The thrill of it seeped into my bones.
“Now, we have shared custody of our pet today, so I will play nice and let you decide who you want to take the first crack at you,” the demon said pleasantly.
It felt like a trap. I couldn’t decide. Both answers, both choices, would displease Beelzebub in different ways. I looked up at his demonic face, searching for a clue.
“Both,” I finally settled on. “Isn’t that what I was promised?”
“Oh, clever pet. I can see your gluttony. You want to have it all, don’t you? And this is exactly why you have to be punished. Because you are so weak to temptation. So, let’s do it like this: Raphael will start, but he will prepare you for me.” Beelzebub’s blackened hand reached for a coil of red rope and he presented it to Raphael. “Do your worst, angel.”
Raphael took the order–or was it a challenge?–in stride.
“This color will look beautiful on you,” the angel gave praise as easy as he breathed. “Let’s start small, shall we? Just the hands will be enough for now.”
Gently but steadily he helped me up and guided me to sit on the big bed in the center of the room.
“Can you feel the texture of the rope? It’s rough enough the knots will hold well but smooth enough to not hurt your skin…”
“Unless you struggle a lot,” Beelzebub interjected with a shit-eating grin.
“…yes, thank you for you immeasurable wisdom, Beelzebub.”
“You’re welcome.”
“As I was saying… This rope is hemp, a good choice. Now, if you could hold your hand like this…”
It was easy to fall into the mindset of obeying instructions. This was the only thing I was good at. Following orders. But I couldn’t help how having structure and guidance grounded me, made everything easier. I was grateful for Raphael taking his time to explain every step to me as the unfamiliar sensation of the rope settled around my wrists. When the tie was done it felt… secure. Safe. Of course, Beelzebub took that moment to add his two cents.
“Look at that. How does it feel to be trapped like this? You are so vulnerable now, I could do anything to you.” He used his still regrowing arm that ended in a heavy golden hand prosthesis to pin my bound hands down between my legs. Then he used his other hand to grab my chin and devoured my lips in a ferocious kiss.
“Better hurry with the preparations or I will eat him,” the demon threatened as he left me panting, a trickle of blood sliding down my chin from where I cut my lip on his razor sharp fangs.
My head was spinning with the conflicting emotions. How could I feel safe and like prey at the same time?
“Help me get his pants off and it will be faster,” Raphael offered and together they started peeling away the skin-tight leather pants. I cursed Hellion to the Heavens for bullying me into wearing this outfit. With my hands bound I couldn’t do much but let myself be manhandled, pushed around like a doll, until I was half naked.
The urge to cover myself was strong as two pairs of vibrant eyes intently studied my body.
As an angel, I could shape my body however I wanted. I could have luxurious black hair trailing behind me like a veil, or eyes so piercingly blue they looked like ice. But over the centuries of my existence I had chosen to be plain, unimportant, unassuming. It was better to not gather any attention, and looking like I did now helped me fade into the background. But here, under their gazes, I was seen. Being perceived was horrible.
I didn’t want it to end.