The Captive

The caravan slumbered in the hot desert night. The crewmen surrendered their night of drinks and dice and retired to bedrolls beside the carts. Only D'nel remained awake. He was always awake. The damned, like himself, were forbidden the comfort of dreams. He hated being on mortal soil with the worthless flesh-bearers who dually worshiped and feared his kind. His work demanded this attention here. He brought the newly anointed Underworld-Lord his tithe.

D'nel deserved recognition for this effort, a seat at the Dark one's council, or perhaps as delegate to the upper echelon. Instead he found himself relegated to the outskirts, wrapped in menial tasks with few rewards. He hoped his offering would encourage the new Lord to view him in a more favorable light.

He made his way through the silent camp to check on the cargo. Already he was thinking about the rare jewel, finding its cage at a distance where he'd tucked between pens of exotic beasts and chests of riches. It surprised him to find a man there, leaning in against the small enclosure. The man had a meaty fist braced against the top bars, head tossed back to look skyward. Or so D'nel thought until he heard the low, human groan. His blood heated at what he witnessed.

Within the cage he could see his prize. His captive.

The drunk human had unlocked the cage door , one hand reached within, grasping the prisoner's white-gold hair. His pants were rumpled down his thighs in drunken haste and 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 perfect, pearly-peach flesh. Magic bound her, script in blood coiled across her belly and iron bands held her limbs. One of her feathery wings lay pinned under her body while the other was half thrust through the cage. The broken shafts of primary feathers looked like muddy bundles of shattered reeds were they tangled in the bars of her prison.

The drunken man used the glossy hair he held in his fist as a handhold to move her. He shoved her up and down onto the cock, letting it split her lush lips and plunge down her throat. With every pump the momentum sent her little body jerking to the limits of the enclosure. The vigorous movement bounced her full breasts sharply. Despite the degradation and humiliation, her big nipples were hard pink pearls on the bouncing tits.

For a moment D'nel couldn't quite believe what he saw. Here was his gift for the Lord of Demons being sullied by human hands. She had not even passed through The Gates and thusfar remained as pure as her sisters prior to D'nel sampling their sweetness. He tested them, for quality of course, to be sure the pretty one would be worthy.

His cock swelled at memory of their silken flesh. Their piercing cries sang in his ears as he pressed his teeth into their flesh and then his cock split thee bliss of pristine, angel-pussy. They tasted like honey and sunshine and his tongue still felt swollen from the hours he spent feasting between those lean, thighs. Face buried and grinding into the heat, he had lapped up their plush cunt from ass to clit, suckling all their flavors. Watching their responses as he peeled open their slippery lips with his long, dark fingers was an intoxicant! Steadily, he pressed in, exposing the throbbing little clit. Better to bite and hear them squeal and buck in fear and pain and—pleasure—those bites created. The real reward was making them feel shameful pleasure as he fucked them and made them fall from grace.

The memory of his debauchery and pleasure of the twin conquests did not soften his rage. He had not spent all this time in this wretched land to have his plans spoiled by this nameless mortal partaking of that perfection. If he wanted to send his Lord a soiled treasure, he would have taken this one himself. D'nel took a hulking step forward, the sound of his footsteps masked by the creaking of the cage as the fool used the angel-captive within.

Before he could lift his clawed fist out to deal the killing blow, the angel's brilliant blue gaze pierced his own. Her lips stretched and jaw forced wide around her unworthy assailant. D'nel felt his cock jerk upward with savage desire. In the instant their eyes met, the mortal screamed out in pain and his body wrenched back, away from the cage. He tried to break free as his agony tore from his throat, but his cock was caught in the teeth rather than soft lips he so recently plundered. The fool lifted a hand to smack at the angel's face but D'nel was already there. With a roar, he slashed the mortal down.

The mortal sullying her perfection could be tolerated no longer. As the man's rolling eyes faded, his body slumped to the ground, but only when his shoulders landed on the earth did the angel let up on the bite she had delivered. She bared bloody teeth to D'nel ferociously for a moment, letting out a hiss and snarl of foamy blood.

D'nel returned the look coolly as he reached into the cage to slap her across the face. It was an open palm strike but 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, dripping from the corner of her mouth. This one would require special training to repel the rebellion. Perhaps the stink and taste of mortal blood would give her something think about. She would have to wait until first light to have some relief of fresh water. As much as he wanted to take her training in hand right now, it would have to wait until she had time to consider her choices.

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

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On the floor of her cage, Therlyna tried her best to hide, but there was little she could do but beside 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 body. Every inch of her body pulsed with a buzz of physical discomfort, from jaw where the creature slapped her, down to the torn soles of her feet. Adding to her distress, the taste of copper in her mouth made her feel queasy. The stink of mortal blood filled her nostrils and although she wiped the splattered filth from her face, 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 and feel their eyes raking over her abused body. Their lust and desire plain, and even if they weren't, her 'other' senses felt them. She squeezed her eyes closed but behind her eyelids she could feel their eyes molesting her. It felt like heat wavered over her flesh, gazes traveling across her backside, her hip and breasts. She squirmed with discomfort against the rough wood planks of her prison. Whenever she opened her eyes, she found several mortals staring at her. Their openly hungry looks made her heart ache worse than her physical 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 pinned between the bars of the cage. The enclosure did not allow enough room to pull free and pain twisted through her shoulder, making 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 enjoying the soft curves, but could do nothing about it.

There was so much physical stimulation! Nothing like she felt before at home. Home was soft and sensation felt muffled. Here everything was sharp, clear and overwhelming. It surprised her when the dirty hand 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. She hated how her body responded, hips bucking up towards the touch. The laughter turned to groans as her heat turned to liquid honey, a slippery cream she felt dripping from her pussy lips.

Fingers stroked up against her sex, pinching one swollen lip roughly until a hiss of breath exploded from her throat. The rough fingers nuzzled between the slit, opening her, exposing the pink, gloss of her pussy. The fragrance of her cunt, cloying sweet with her need, filled the small enclosure, making her burn from her public degradation. She wanted to strike out at them and hurt them, but the strength of her passion held her still and made her skin Biting down on the back of her hand, she tasted the sour-copper-filth of mortal blood and wanted to chew a chunk from her own flesh to stop the craving 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 red-skinned demon towering over the cage, over the mortals. She trembled less from fear than the awful need as she tried to crush herself into the corner of the cage.

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D'nel was no green recruit, the long years hardened and jaded him, but even he staggered when 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 fury he watched the angel through the bars of her cage and felt lust tighten from his stomach all the way to the tip of his cock making him stiffen painfully. He could read the willful sharpness of her edges, the rebellion in every inch 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 and made him weary. 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 enough to train and educate without sampling 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. For this I will see to your training. As fair as you are and as you might be....you are wild as the wind." He smirked and added, "I will harness the wind."

So it was that he had the prize transported to his cathedral.

After she was truly broken to her fate it would be simple to transport her. He imagined the looks on the faces of the minor lordlings when he brought his conquest in, tethered by fine golden chains like a falcon. It made his blood hotter 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 she'd lit, sinking 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, sneaking under his loincloth to fondle his balls, he wanted nothing more than to throw her down and sink deep into her. All her skills of seduction and tricks she'd learned long before he caught his devil-princess were nothing right now. He only wanted wild rutting.

She gave a startled cry when he grabbed a fistful of silken black hair and yanked her head back. The sound one of pleasure, lips falling open 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. 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 tonight. Her pitiful cry warming his face made him nearly crazy with desire for her. She struggled, but as her claws found purchase on his shoulder and spine, he rolled atop her on the bed.

One clawed hand spread open her thighs, spreading her open easily despite her bucking and writhing. 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 prized-slave. Under him, she seemed so small, and her face 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, her trembling body tightening against his thrusts. He forced his cock deeper, impaling her fully along the length of his cruelly veined cock-flesh. His climax came like a flood. A wild beast let out of its cage at long last. The fire burned through him and as his burning 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.