Laurelai flew fast and far, seeking to outrun her pursuers. It wasn't nearly as fast or far as she was used to though. Her new body was smaller, and so were her wings, and she could feel the difference with every flap. Worse, every downstroke of her wings made her breasts jiggle lewdly in a way she found very distracting. All of these annoyances added up to make her feel weak and helpless, but even as a shadow of her former self, she was still able to easily outdistance the imps that gave chase to her.
Once she'd lost sight of them, she dipped down closer to the ground level. There was no telling what winged horror Lord Bel might unleash to pursue her, and being close to cover might help her. If there was any cover to be had, she thought in frustration as she gazed across the blasted landscape that she soared over. The demon lord had built his fortress of rusted iron in the middle of an ochre desert. Here and there were small boulder fields or a few dead trees she might be able to hide in, if worse came to worst, but they wouldn't be able to offer much in the way of concealment, let alone protection.
Not that she wanted to land until she had to. Flying through the gray skies of hell naked was bad enough, but if she was to land, who knew what monsters might try to take advantage of her? In all the centuries she'd been alive she'd fought countless hellspawn in creation, and they'd all come from one of the hells she was now stuck inside, but she was sure she'd only faced a tiny sliver of the possible evils that dwelled down here. Staying free meant facing off against not only whatever new monster crossed her path, but also fighting whatever Lord Bel sent after her. She was sure he wasn't about to give up his prize without a fight.
For a brief moment images of fear and lust shot through her mind at the idea of being recaptured, and the terrible things they would do to punish her for it, before Laurelai shook her head to clear it. None of that mattered, because she wasn't going to let that happen. Right now all that mattered was getting away, finding somewhere safe, getting a weapon, and eventually finding something to cover herself with so that her utterly pornographic breasts would stop jiggling and swaying. After that she'd see about less important things like getting clean, and finding a way out of this accursed place.
She flew for hours, expecting the sun to set in one direction or the other eventually, but it never moved. It always stayed fixed in the center of the sky like a baleful red eye, baking the land until there was nothing but sand and dust. That didn't make a lot of sense. There had been night in the garden, but now that she thought about it, she'd never actually seen the sun set. Could the glass have been magically tempered to darken for part of the day so that Lord Bel's sex slaves could rest and recover their strength for the long day of fucking that was sure to follow? That seemed much too kind for a monster like that.
She'd read that every level of hell had its own eccentricities, and apparently this one was supposed to be a trackless and inescapable desert. That wouldn't be a problem for an angel though, even a fallen one. She still needed neither food nor drink to sustain her, and from the air she'd found a distant mountain peak an hour ago, and was slowly making her way towards that. The layers of hell were physical things after all, so ultimately she'd need to make her way up and out to the next layer of misery.
After at least five hours of flying, Laurelai feared that she might be hallucinating, because she saw what appeared to be an oasis in the middle of the shifting sands, or at least what passed for one in the bowels of hell. There were no lush date palms to provide shade, or verdant grass to lay upon, but there were a series of pools nested in tiers in a rocky outcropping. The highest ones were bubbling and steaming, and she was sure that their sulfurous waters were so hot that anyone that tried to sample them would be boiled alive, but as the runoff from each added to a stream, it cooled as it drifted down the rock formation, forming a broad and deep pool in the water that looked almost inviting.
Laurelai circled the area three times. The first time was to assure herself it was real, and the second time was to look for evidence of a trap. Even though she didn't thirst, she desperately wanted to wash and feel clean after everything that had happened to her for the last week. She'd never actually be clean again of course. Fucking hundreds of demons stained the body and the soul. Still, as she finally landed lightly on a nearby boulder ready to flee at a moment's notice, she thought it would be nice if she could finally stop reeking of sex.
Finally, when she was sure no one was around, she dipped a toe in the water. It was certainly hot, but bearable. One step at a time the angel went deeper into the rocky pool. It instantly brought to mind her experiences in the tub with Temoa, and she blushed at the thought. The succubus had made sure that she was more than clean that day, but somehow this sulfurous water felt even better on Laurelai's battered body than that tub had. This was hell, and there wasn't supposed to be any pleasure or joy here, but her blush only deepened as she realized that so far almost everything she'd done in hell had been extremely pleasurable. It had been a hedonistic experience she could never have imagined, but she'd be grateful when it was over.
Once she was up to her waist, she walked around until she found a submerged boulder, and then took a seat. Relaxing on it while she started to splash water on the rest of her body, while carefully avoiding getting her wings wet. That wouldn't make flying any easier after all, and she knew she shouldn't linger too long in a place that was obviously too good to be true. Still, it was nice to enjoy the moment of respite, she thought as she gently washed her poor abused breasts. She had no idea when she'd find another moment of peace or even when she might find a safe place to sleep. Angels really didn't need much sleep of course, but exhausted as she was it would go a long way towards rejuvenating her aching muscles.
Laurelai studied her reflection in the dark waters. The only other time she'd had a chance to look at this new body was the moment that Thraxusius made her watch her own deflowering, and that was hardly the time to appreciate the new body she'd be trapped in until she could find some way to reverse the process. Even though the slender form still felt foreign to her, and her breasts were nothing but a nuisance, it was impossible not to appreciate the beauty of her face framed by long blond hair that went down to her back. It was a face that another person might kill for, and even if she knew she wanted her own face and body back, this one was growing on her, for better or worse.
The biggest change of all though, was her wings. Before all this her feathers had been the purest white, like every angel of Heaven, but every day that had passed since her change they'd become dark as night. Now her feathers were the color of a raven's. They were a perfect match for her sinful soul, she realized sadly. It wasn't something she could see while she was tied up, but it made a tragic sort of sense. With the loss of her halo's light, she was a creature of darkness now, and she'd have to find some way to make peace with that. Somehow she couldn't feel too sad about this detail though. The feathers were so dark in places that they were almost blue. It was a lovely effect, even if it was a constant reminder of her sin.
