Avarice, Inc. - ch.3

Author's Note: Leraie's back, baby!

[story] [fu/F] [titfuck/naizuri] [facefuck] [anal] [D/s] [voyeurism/jealousy]

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The concept of the fifteen-minute break had never found a steady foothold in the Fourth Circle of Hell. It was a small, pleasant mercy that humans sometimes indulged in, but not a privilege that had been extended to the ordinary working demon, even one working in middle management like Leraie. Mealtimes, however – lunch, and often dinner as well when one was working a particularly long shift – had remained intact, and the reported productivity drop when those mealtimes were reduced to any less than forty-five minutes had effectively preserved their sacred nature. These lunch periods offered brief respite, a moment to refuel and clear one’s head before getting back to work… and, sometimes, an opportunity to be social.

“Nah, I actually got promoted to DR! Can you believe it?”

“Demonic Resources?” Leraie balked, taking a bite of her sandwich – which consisted of a fillet of placenta cut from the bowels of the Second Circle, battered and fried, with lettuce and tomato – and quickly glancing toward the clock, willing it to move more slowly so she could spend a little more time with her sister. “Didn’t you tell your boss to drown in his own blood? Who in Hell would promote you to DR, of all places?”

“I know, right?!” Ronové chuckled. “But it’s a pretty good gig, all things considered! I don’t have much to do when I’m not actually putting a fire out – literally, sometimes – so there’s a lot of… y’know, staring at the wall. Beats actually doin’ stuff by a fuckin’ country mile, though.”

Ronové was Leraie’s younger sister, and the resemblance was obvious at even the briefest glance. The sisters shared the same short stature and petite build, the same dark, nubby horns, and the same jet-black hair, though Ronové allowed hers to frame her face and spill a bit down her back, as opposed to Leraie’s straight-cut bangs. Her eyes (behind the prescription windows of her round tortoiseshell glasses) were also of a deep amethyst color rather than Leraie’s icy blue, but the greatest departure was likely their skin tone, with Ronové having a more healthy golden-tan color against Leraie’s milky white. Despite frequently joking that Leraie needed to get more sunshine – something that essentially didn’t exist in Hell – the sisters had borne those differences since they were babies.

“At least you’re not in meetings all day, every day,” Leraie sighed, “I’m getting so tired of just hearing people’s voices, pretending to listen. Most of the time I never utter a single word, unless someone specifically asks me about something. I just sit and wait for….”

“Wait for…?” Ronové arched a brow, putting both sneakered shoes up onto the empty chair beside them as she took a bite of her own sandwich, identical to her sister’s, but with added pickle. She dressed much more casually than Leraie, with comfortable footwear, charcoal-colored khakis, an untucked white button-up, and a jade-green paisley necktie, a far cry from her sister’s penchant for flats and pencil skirts. “Come on, sis, don’t leave me hangin’, wait for what?”

Leraie let out a soft sigh, “Ahh… nothing, I guess. Just the next meeting.”

“Oooooh no, that’s bullshit, there’s something else going on,” Ronové teased, “I’ve known you all my life, you really don’t think I can tell when you’ve got something going on? Spill!” Before she could get an answer, she let out a declarative gasp. “Ohh, you have a crush on someone, don’t you?!”

“No!” Leraie spat back quickly, a bit too quickly.

“You do. You little slut,” Ronové chuckled, “I thought you’ve been acting like a little lovesick hellhound these past few weeks, you gonna spill the beans or am I gonna have to make you?”

“There’s no beans! It’s… look, it’s not really a crush, there’s just this… weird thing going on with some I work for– euh, with.” Leraie was on the ropes now, and there wasn’t much she’d be able to do to stop her sister from getting what she wanted. Still, there was no way she was going to go into detail about the things that had happened between her and Sachiel, the way the angel violated her, displayed her, invaded her, treated her like a piece of well-liked property, and the way Leraie couldn’t help but enjoy it. “That’s all, really, it’s… it’s nothing.”

“Mmmmm-hmm. Yea-huh. Sure, sis,” Ronové scoffed, “I suppose I won’t try to tickle it out of you just yet. Maybe wait until something juicier happens.” Fuck, she had no idea. “But you remind this sexy mystery demon that you’re my big sis, alright? You were mine first, so they’re gonna have to ask real nice if they wanna take you to the Homecoming Dance or whatever.”

“Hah, sure, yeah,” Leraie let out a nervous chuckle, trying to duck out of providing any sort of further answer by diving back into her sandwich, chomping down the last few bites. She had another meeting the second her lunch break ended – more of a debrief, really – with a higher-up demonic executive by the name of Vinea, one who was not known to be tolerant of tardiness. ‘Early is on time, on time is late,’ she’d often say, something Leraie had never been particularly pleased with, particularly when it ate into her precious lunchtime. “Fuck, I gotta get going in a sec.”

“Getting rid of me so soon?” her sister smirked, extending her foot as far as it would stretch to give Leraie a little nudge. “Going to go meet with your secret lover instead of spending quality family time with your li’l sis?”

“Nah, just a stupid meeting,” Leraie sighed, though Ronové’s unexpectedly possessive language as of late wasn’t going completely unnoticed. “I have to deliver some papers to Vinea up on the twenty-third. Not sure why I can’t just fax the damn things but apparently my presence is absolutely required.” She stood, finished her soda, and leaned down to give Ronové a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you next time I get some time off, yeah? I don’t think they have me working Sunday this week, maybe we can get together then!”

“Alright, try not to fall too completely in love!” her sister chuckled as Leraie got up and left, hurrying over to the perpetually-crowded shuttle that would take her straight back to work. She swore some people simply never got off the thing, it seemed like there was always just as many people on it no matter when she was there – if she didn’t know any better, she’d have said she even kept seeing the same faces over and over, people she didn’t even go to work with. Ah, whatever. Just another quiet, scarcely-bearable misery that came with literally living in Hell.

From the shuttle, to the office, to the elevator, Leraie kept her head down, trying not to make any contact with any of co-workers or, Lucifer forbid, a superior. She went over and over her report in her mind and kept her step quick, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible so she could, ideally, get back to only pretending to work… or maybe zoning out through yet another meeting. She’d have to check her schedule and make sure there wasn’t anything too important to do today. One could never be too sure, as it wasn’t at all unheard-of for her bosses to add new responsibilities to her schedule in the middle of the workday.

How she longed for the days when she’d been a Marquis of Hell, when she’d had power, meant something. What she wouldn’t give to go back to that. Anything but… this. A moment of anxiety churned in Leraie’s gut as she ascended the elevator, all crisp chrome but for the blood-red inscriptions that both bound and monitored. She straightened her blazer, black again today, though she’d opted for a lilac-colored blouse beneath it, adding a bit of color while hopefully still letting her make it through the day more-or-less unnoticed.

Finally, she reached the building’s twenty-third floor, an ominous organ tone ringing out from the elevator before its doors slid open. Sighing, Leraie made her way into the still, silent, largely undecorated series of hallways until she found the door number she was looking for, then stopped to check her watch. She was about ten minutes early, so… ‘on time,’ she supposed. Vinea was a stickler for punctuality, if she wasn’t ready for the report, that was honestly on her – Leraie opened the door, and headed inside.

What she saw, however, was certainly not what she expected. Or who she expected. Well, not entirely, at least. Vinea was there – quite the beauty, especially for a demon, though her features were much more fiercely infernal than the nearly-human ones of Leraie and Ronové. She was top-heavy in chest, shoulders, and upper arms, her ears high and tufted like those of a lynx, her hair a thick, wild black mane like that of a lion, her eyes slitted like a serpent’s and her arms covered in a thin sheen of green scales from elbow to mid-knuckle. Her face, though, was much more human-like, with luscious red lips and a long nose, her skin a smooth, deep shade of gray. Every bit the demon Leraie had met before, if in something of a more compromised position than she was used to seeing.

Indeed, she found Vinea on her knees in front of her own desk, her blazer and blouse fully unbuttoned and discarded, though her pinstriped burgundy slacks and black heels remained intact. Both her hands were at the sides of her breasts – which were remarkable in size and shape, something Leraie had taken notice of but never thought she’d actually see up close – trapping them around the massive, gold-flecked, bronze-colored girlcock of none other than an angel. Leraie’s angel. Sepher Sachiel.

“Mmm… don’t forget to use your mouth, demon, I don’t want to dry out,” Sachiel sighed, seeming pleased but almost… bored, sitting up on Vinea’s desk with her hands planted at her sides, thick silver hair hanging beautifully over one eye, obscuring Leraie’s unexpected injection into the bizarre scene. “All those tits, and so little technique… ah well, I’m sure you’ll learn after we’ve used them a few times.”

“Mmffhh… y-yes, ma’am,” Vinea murmured, the first time Leraie had ever heard her so submissive and deferential to someone, immediately dipping her head down to swirl her tongue around the crown of Sachiel’s cock, coating it with a fresh layer of saliva as she slid her breasts up and down along that impressive shaft, squeezing up its length like she was trying to wrest the last bit of toothpaste from its tube. She hoisted her breasts up to swivel them back and forth along that glistening, beautiful cock, massaging it, sending a pang of – was it envy? Jealousy? Some wicked emotion better fitting a different circle of Hell – into Leraie’s heart, prompting her to glance down at her own chest, spectacularly failing to obscure the sight of her own flat belly, skirt, and the floor beneath her. Error, titty not found.

Finding her throat suddenly incredibly dry, the petite demon was unsure whether to announce herself or try to slip away unnoticed, though the sight of Sachiel fucking the big, stupid tits of one of Leraie’s executives set her aflame with jealousy she could barely contain. She wanted to shout out, to chastise Vinea and Sachiel both, something that would doubtlessly earn her nothing but pain and get her demoted through the floor. She swallowed, licking dry lips, and took one step backwards, attempting to close the door back behind her–

“Leraie! I wasn’t expecting to see you!” Leraie was interrupted mid-step by Sachiel’s voice, the angel’s tone as bright and commanding as ever, freezing the little demon in place. “Mmn, I was just hoping I had someone a little more adorable to play with… and you never disappoint, little demon.”

“Ahh, I’m not sure I– uh, what I mean to say is, I’m just here to deliver a report to Ms. Vi–”

“Ms. Who Cares,” Sachiel shrugged, turning her attention coolly back to Vinea. “Go make yourself useful somewhere else, Vinea.” Her words were firm, leaving no real space for contest, but that didn’t stop the dark-maned demon from trying.

“With all due respect, this is my office,” she began, not noticing how the white glow of Sachiel’s halo was beginning to burn more brightly. “Do whatever you want with her, but I have work to do here, so if you can–”

“If I can what…?” Sachiel reached down, long bronze fingers tucking up under Vinea’s chin to cradle it, dangerously close to grasping the demon’s throat. Hell’s corporate structure differed from Earth’s in a very important way – your boss wasn’t always simply a guy who’d been there longer or kissed the right asses. There was a chance that they were an entity magnitudes more powerful than you, one that could obliterate you with a thought or glance. So it was with most angels, and certainly Sachiel. She let the question hover ominously for a long moment, waiting for a response she found pleasing.

Vinea swallowed hard, chin moist with her own saliva, heaving breasts still exposed. “If you can… do whatever you like, while you’re here… I’ll find something to do elsewhere.”

“Good.” Sachiel offered a broad smile that showed pearly-white teeth, the light from her halo fading back down to a reasonable shine. “Go. Leave your clothes here.”

“But–” Vinea began, then fell silent once more – despite the gentling of her expression, Sachiel’s tone was just as firm, just as absolute, as it had been before. Without uttering another word, Vinea stood, folding one arm across her bare chest and turning for the door, shouldering her way past Leraie with an icy, tight-lipped growl as she passed.

As the door clicked back shut behind her, Leraie swallowed hard once again. This would certainly have a negative impact on some of her professional relationships, but Sachiel’s ‘favor’ had thus far protected her from any sort of corporate retaliation. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… interrupt,” she said shyly, taking quick stock of the room she now found herself in. If her larger office downstairs had been an upgrade from her cubicle, this was the upgrade from that – Vinea’s office was warmly lit and carpeted, with walls that looked to be made of real wood, rather than the opaque shower-door plastic Leraie was growing accustomed to. A large hardwood desk, bookcase, and even a few personal knickknacks made the place seem homey in a way, and the desk even had some sort of private totem atop it: a small white urn, within which was dark, loamy soil and a small plant with red-tipped green leaves. What sort of maniac would keep a plant in their office, Leraie couldn’t say, for it was something she’d never seen before. “Um, I just have a– eh, had, a, uh, report. For Vinea. Just some basic details on the–”

“All very interesting, I’m sure,” Sachiel cooed, her possessive golden eyes narrowing, fixating on the little demoness as she shifted her seating atop the desk, crossing one leg over the other – and keeping the stiff, throbbing pillar of her cock trapped between her thighs, pointing upward, still ‘unsatisfied’ from earlier. “But I can think of something a lot more fun, little Leraie. After all, I didn’t send Vinea away just so you could stammer and look cute, now did I?”

Leraie gently bit her bottom lip, trying to will herself not to babble forth another string of malformed nonsense. She couldn’t deny how exciting it was that Sachiel was here, her angel, the woman she’d lost so much sleep fantasizing about. Making the first move, though, had never been her style, and it still wasn’t – despite her desire, she remained tongue-tied, even as as a fiery pink blush crept over her pale features. “Probably… p-probably not, no,” she finally stammered, fingers unconsciously fiddling with the buttons of her blouse. “Though I don’t think I can do… well, what she was doing….”

“Mm, probably not, no,” Sachiel frowned, and that tiny gesture alone was enough to send a spike of ice into Leraie’s heart – that she’d disappointed her angel. That she’d given up before… well, before she’d even tried. Was that who she was? Was that was Avarice Inc. had turned her into, once a woman who’d led legions, now a woman who would defeat her own self before rising to a challenge? Pathetic. And… no. No it wasn’t. That wasn’t who she was. It didn’t have to be.

“But…” Leraie breathed, unbuttoning her blazer fully, then the top buttons of her blouse as she slowly approached the angel, big blue eyes filling with sudden determination as she exposed inch after inch of pale flesh, largely undefined by meaningful curves. She considered her next words. I’m willing to give it a shot. I’ll try, if you want me to. Maybe I can figure something out. They were also so passive. Not the way she felt, not what that spike of jealousy had instilled in her. Finally, she rephrased to the audible, more decisive, “I want to try.”

“Is that right, sweetheart?” Sachiel’s frown twisted into a smirk, and the Angel of Charity licked her lips, spreading her legs apart once more to fully show off the throbbing length of her luscious cock. “Well, what sort of boss would I be if I didn’t let you properly apply yourself, hmm? Let’s see what those little things can do. I admit, I’m… quite curious.”

Swallowing, Leraie kneeled in front of the angel, slipping her coat off completely and finishing unbuttoning her shirt, exposing the shallow swells of what could, in theory, be called breasts. Thinking back to Vinea – the way her tits had completely engulfed Sachiel’s cock, barely the tip of the huge thing visible peeking up from between them – she felt smaller than ever, more overwhelmed. But she’d found victory against larger opposing forces, had she not? This would not be the battle she backed down from.

...Except that, on her knees, she quickly realized she also wasn’t tall enough to give Sachiel a tittyfuck. With the angel sitting up on the desk, a kneeling Leraie was around face-level with the statuesque, silver-haired beauty’s gorgeous cock. “Ermm… sorry, uh…” she let out a nervous giggle, then slowly stood to her full five-foot height, bringing her chest in a more direct line of engagement. “Okay, so, let’s see… just gonna, um…” Leraie leaned forward, her blush growing brighter as she gently pressed her bared chest against Sachiel’s cock, letting the pulsating bludgeon throb contently between her breasts, though they failed in any way to contain or obscure it. Like dropping a sausage on a flat slice of bread and saying it was in a bun, it was indisputable that Leraie had failed at her task before even beginning it.

“I’m certain there are other ways for us to enjoy one another, little demon,” Sachiel sighed, arching one thin brow, perplexed that the attempt at a titfuck was being made when the proper tools for the task were so notably absent. “You have plenty of delicious holes, two of which I’m glad to make use of.”

While Sachiel’s casual reminder of their anal-only relationship sent a kinky thrill up Leraie’s spine (and a strange little tingle in her butt), she refused to be dissuaded so quickly – she’d barely even started, after all. Furrowing her brow and focusing, she brought her hands to the sides of her chest the same way Vinea had, firmly squishing together the bit of softer flesh she had until she created a sort of valley, a bit of skin finally touching the sides of Sachiel’s dick. “There we go…” Leraie murmured, speaking to herself as if she was working on a delicate project or undertaking. She then stood up on her tip-toes, then dropped back down, trying to rub and squeeze her tiny little tits up and down along the angel’s patiently throbbing cock, getting a little friction, but… not much. “I got it, I’m getting it…!”

“Perhaps this is something for which you simply don’t have the gift, sweetheart,” Sachiel held back a chuckle, clearly more amused than pleasured, which annoyed the demon intensely. “It’s very cute, I admit.”

“It’s not… it’s not cute, it’s…” Leraie huffed, biting her lip and tilting to the side slightly, grinding one stiffened nipple along Sachiel’s shaft, then tilting to repeat the gesture with the other – finally standing on her toes again to squish one nipple back and forth along the very tip of the angel’s member, prodding it against the narrow slit from which so much cum had burst forth into Leraie’s poor little butt. “I’m doing it, look…!” she insisted, finally pressing forward completely, burying her own face in Sachiel’s chest so that she could trap the angel’s dick between the two of them, then sliding back along it, eager to get some reaction even if it was from the softness of her skin alone.

“Up for interpretation…” Sachiel parried, though her words were more playful than malicious. It wasn’t like she was getting no pleasure at all, and this new technique actually created some legitimate friction for her to enjoy. Surely there was no harm in letting Leraie continue for a while… but her patience was beginning to wear a bit thin.

“Mmrhmm… ghhh…” the demon let out an annoyed huff, sliding her entire body downward so she could drag her tongue all the way down Sachiel’s shaft, then back up along it, adding a fresh coat of saliva (though she could taste the sickly sweetness of Vinea’s lip balm, yech) to aid in her greater efforts. As she slid back up to a full stand, she squished her chest back up along that throbbing thing, trying to rock her body a little faster up and down against it, squishing it as much into Sachiel’s belly as it was between her own tits, her nipples dragging back and forth across the smooth firmness of the angel’s core. “Yeah, there we go… how about that… you… y-you like that…?” she tried not to stammer, but her desperation was showing – this was cute, but it wasn’t working. Certainly not as well as whatever else Sachiel had in mind.

“Very nice try,” the angel purred, and Leraie felt the kiss of death – the sensation of Sachiel’s fingers making a fist in her jet-black hair, preparing to control her, to put her to better use. It was over. She’d failed. “Maybe you can try again some other time, sweetheart… some time I’m not really itching to cum.”

“Maybe if I–” Leraie began, but the conversation had ended, and only an instant later, so did any meaningful use of her mouth to communicate… it had another purpose, now. Tightening her fist in the demon’s hair, Sachiel pulled Leraie’s face down sharply onto her cock, stuffing a good half of the massive thing into the smaller woman’s mouth on the first thrust, then rocking her hips sharply upward to start stuffing the rest of it down Leraie’s throat.

“Unnh! There we go, that’s what I needed!” Sachiel let out a husky, triumphant gasp as she slammed her cock deeper into the demon’s mouth, controlling her effortlessly by her hair as she easily breached the girl’s gullet, taking several long, eager pumps of her hips forward and back. Whether she was ignoring the sound of Leraie’s gagging and spluttering or simply relishing them was difficult to say, but her chest heaved with a renewed pleasure, heavy bronze balls tightening up against her now that she was finally ‘back in business,’ so to speak. “Not much in the way of tits, cutie, but the Accuser certainly gifted you with a mouth made for getting stuffed with cock… mmn, and that’s just my second favorite of your little holes.”

Leraie wasn’t sure whether to feel excited or embarrassed – it was difficult to have much of a ‘reaction’ when your face was getting crammed full of dick and you were struggling to breathe, Sachiel’s compliments, however self-serving, always sent a happy thrill through her. “Mmmrrlllhhh… chhllkkkhh…!” she groaned, big blue eyes rolling back a little, dark lashes fluttering as she struggled to breathe, both arms wrapping tightly around Sachiel’s waist now to anchor herself in place for her face-fucking.

“I love a little demon that gets disciplined on the first try,” Sachiel sighed contently, chewing at her lower lip as she pulled Leraie’s head back, then drove it back down into her lap, using the demon’s face like a sex toy. “Mmn, such a good girl you are… even if your determined little display didn’t get many results. I still think you should be rewarded for trying, don’t you?”

Leraie groaned wordlessly, saliva dribbling down her own chin as she was pulled down and held in place, her throat tightening, relaxing, contorting around the angel’s thick, invading cock. She was soaking wet from the sound of Sachiel’s voice – and fuck, being called a ‘good girl,’ holy shit – but the sound of a reward widened her icy eyes with renewed eagerness. “Nnnlllgghhh…?”

“Ooh, that got your attention?” Sachiel smirked, finally pulling Leraie’s head back up off of her dick, letting the smaller girl gasp for breath. The angel leaned in with a smoldering golden gaze, lips so dangerously close Leraie’s heart nearly stopped in the hopes she’d get a kiss, a kiss she so craved – but then the angel tilted to the side, gently biting the pointed tip of her ear, letting slip a lustful whisper. “Take your skirt off.”

There was only an instant of hesitation before Leraie complied. Part of her was annoyed with herself for how readily she obeyed the angel, how brazenly she began to unclasp and wriggle free of the slimming little garment, but that was what she’d been brought to – she lived a life of quiet obedience with little to no reward beyond another day of it, why wouldn’t she rush to capitulate to Sachiel? Someone who’d brought her nothing but pleasure, however… forcefully? At least now, she knew exactly what she was about to get… and wanted it.

Her skirt was off in an instant, revealing little white panties beneath, but her hand was stayed before she could remove them. “Miss…?”

“Leave them… they’re cute,” Sachiel smiled, “like you. They won’t get in the way.” The angel reached out to take Leraie’s chin, not dissimilar to the way she’d grasped Vinea, though this was without threat – it was gentle, even caring, and a moment later Leraie felt light as air, as if she was floating, being guided down until she was on her back. Or, more specifically, on her upper back and slender shoulders, Sachiel’s other hand taking hold of the raven-haired demon’s waist and lifting it, bringing it level with the angel’s raging erection while the tall, heavenly beauty knelt before her. Both hands went to Leraie’s hips then, holding her in place as one might a low-slung cart or wheelbarrow, with the dusky tip of Sachiel’s massive cock pushing up under Leraie’s panties, seeking, and quickly finding, her asshole.

“O-oh–! Ouhhhh…” Leraie let out a soft moan as that hot, slick thing pressed against her, then into her, with Sachiel’s characteristic lack of warning, preparation, or teasing. First it wasn’t inside of her, then it was, slowly piercing into that tight little hole, then sliding ever deeper until it had reached as deeply into Leraie’s body as it could. “FuUCk–!”

“I said I’d reward you,” the angel grinned, sliding back a bit, then ramming back in, admiring the view of Leraie’s tiny, wet tits jiggling cutely from the impact. “And from the last few times we’ve played, I’d say you enjoy this–” she punctuated with a rough thrust, “–as much as I do, at this point. From that little spot on your panties, I’d say I’m right.”

Indeed, while a bit of Leraie’s panties had been pulled aside to let the Angel of Charity fuck her up the ass, her pussy remained almost completely covered by the thin white cloth – and had soaked it through completely. The way that dick felt as it stretched her ass apart was something Leraie could scarcely live without, anymore, and she found herself clawing absently at the carpet beneath her, just craving more. Basking in the radiance of Sachiel’s beauty only made things more intense, the luscious cleavage peaking out of the angel’s blouse, her lewdly possessive expression, the lustrous silver of her hair framing her face like strands of a great heavenly storm… it was getting to her, and getting to her quite quickly.

“Mm… m-mhm,” Leraie nodded, unsure what to say, or if she’d even manage to speak at all with the waves of pleasure coursing through her. All she could do was hold on tight and squirm her little body back up against Sachiel’s, always awaiting the next thrust, hoping the next one would come faster, harder, more reckless. It was a hope that was coming true with increasingly regularity. “Ahhh… hahh… fuck….”

“Mmn, what a sweet little thing,” the angel teased, showing no real strain or effort as Leraie was, but simply admiring the cute demon – her soaked, covered little slit, the stretched rim of her ass, clinging lovingly to Sachiel’s fat dick as it slid in and out of her. That unbuttoned, pale purple blouse hanging down around her shoulders, leaving her chest exposed, completely flat now that she was more-or-less laying down. Those eyes, like a sunlit sky in a place without sun, looking up at Sachiel with bliss, need, and an unexpected amount of… yes, there it was. Trust. So rare, in Hell. Yet such a delight to see. Nearly as delightful as the sensation of this squirmy little demon’s tight hole around her throbbing, ramming cock.

“I… I don’t… I t-think I’m–” Leraie groaned through clenched teeth, breathing heavy, rocking her hips forward and back as much as she was able to in this position. She could feel her pleasure mounting to a place it wouldn’t be able to remain for long, achieving a dramatic height that could only end in outburst… an outburst she didn’t suspect would be long in coming. Each time Sachiel would drill into her only made the sensation escalate, the pressure build, tears forming in the corners of her eyes that caused the dark makeup around them to smudge and run. There was a distinct, tingling numbness in her asshole as the friction of Sachiel’s thrusts wore it raw, but it was the feeling of that cock inside of her that was bringing her pleasure now. Looking down her own nearly-naked body, she could see her lower belly swell each time the angel would slam into her, that dick going so deep, so roughly, that her body could barely contain its size. Yet she found herself watching that spot, wide-eyed, just below her navel, elated each time she saw the imprint of Sachiel’s cockhead bulge out against her skin – and, finally, she could bear not a single second longer. “FuuUUCcKKk!”

“There it is, sweetheart, let it out,” Sachiel cooed, picking up the pace of her own thrusting, both to help ride through Leraie’s climax and to hasten her own, going at more and more irresponsible speed until she felt that catch in her breath, that warmth spread across her cheeks that signaled her own impending eruption. “Nnngh… ah, yeah… hahhh…” she growled, tossing her hair back and arching upward, a thin sheen of sweat making her bronze skin glitter like a piece of precious jewelry as all her rapid, non-stop thrusting finally came to an abrupt halt, burying every inch of her heavenly pillar into Leraie and then unleashing its contents. Glug after hot glug of hot, burbling seed shot forth into the demon’s backside, only for Sachiel to draw out before her tank had fully emptied, unleashing several more thick, ropey bolts of spunk across the demon’s body, lacing her chest and belly, one potent missile even hitting the smaller woman’s face.

“Hahhh… ahhh…” Leraie whimpered, shivering, finally collapsing, only for the angel to likewise flop down to the carpet, sidling beside her for a moment – something she’d never done before.

“That was a fun… distraction…” Sachiel said softly, quickly catching her breath, fingertips teasing over Leraie’s cum-glazed chest. “And don’t feel too sour about your lack of… development,” she giggled softly, “you’re a delicious thing as you are. I… like you.”

Like. Not a terribly strong word, though perhaps a bitten-back substitute for a sweeter one? Not equal, perhaps, to the growing hunger Leraie felt. “I…” the demon began, swallowing, “I like y–”

“But, time for me to go deal with whatever Vinea was whining about,” the angel interrupted, sitting up and beginning to straighten her clothes. “I suppose you won’t want to be here by the time she gets back. I’d give it ten minutes.”

That was it, then. The brief moment of cuddling, the handful of casual words, the instant of praise – snuffed like a candle’s flame as the angel dressed and exited without another word, leaving Leraie alone. Exhausted, nearly naked, covered in semen, and… against all reason, yearning for more.

Slowly sitting up, she shook the stars from her eyes and reached for her clothes. Maybe she’d have time to visit a washroom and clean up before her next meeting. This was barely the middle of her fucking workday.