Collars 'N' Cuffs

by Wayward Ink

  It was something Robert had anticipated. In fact, he’d counted on it. He knew Daniel would be protective of him, even when in his submissive persona. He’d jolted him into Dominant mode.

  Normally a Dom is supposed to get upset when a sub goes out of character, but I don’t care.

  Robert pushed Daniel to the side with practiced assertion. There, he plopped down on a nearby couch with much ceremony. He leaned in, using the assertive whisper he’d learnt from Daniel.

  “It was a test. I wanted to see if you would still just play. You didn’t. You went protective on me. You care about me, so I have a present for you.”

  “A present?”

  Robert reached into his jacket pocket and pulled something out. He placed the object in Daniel’s palm. “It’s the key to my apartment and to my heart. I want you to move in with me… or I can move in with you. We’ll discuss it later, after we play, but I wanted you to know that I trust you with my things and my heart. I love you.”

  Daniel looked up at Robert from under his eyelashes, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks. “I love you, too.”

  That simple declaration prompted Robert to lean in and kiss Daniel. Their tongues danced. Robert broke the kiss and switched his attention to Daniel’s earlobe. He nibbled as he whispered, “When we get back to your place, I’m giving control back to you. I know there are things you’ve been wishing to try. I’m willing to submit to you for them. All. Night. Long.”

  Daniel growled and grabbed Robert’s hair at the back of his head. “Home. Now.”

  Robert pulled Daniel’s hand away, laughing. “No. First we play. You wanted my Dom debut to be on your birthday and public. We wouldn’t want to disappoint anyone. Afterward, you can have your fun in private.”

  Robert stood and grabbed the ring attached to Daniel’s collar, tugging him up with him. “I’m the Dom now. Later, I’ll be submissive. Although, I may have some surprises in store for you.”

  After all, it is a switch’s prerogative.

  EDDIE LEFEY started reading m/m romance fanfiction a few years ago. At one point, during a crucial point in the soap opera storyline of his favorite gay couple, the story went on hiatus. He needed a fix and decided to write his own version of what he wished would happen. Friends wanted to read it, so he plucked up his courage. Pressing the submission button was nerve-wracking, but he did it. People liked it. He wrote a few more.

  Up until that point Eddy had tried his hand at writing many times. The delete button was his friend, as was starting over, and over, and over, but he could no longer do that if he wanted people to read his works.

  A few of his writing friends decided to create original stories, and feeling brave, Eddy did the same. The stories were shared among a select few. They encouraged him to submit one of them. Low and behold, another is now being published.

  Eddy lives in Canada with his husband Ken and his cat Oscar Wild. He is busy writing many more stories.

  EDDY LEFEY can be found at:

  Email: authoreddylefey@gmail.com

  Website: https://eddylefey.wordpress.com/

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/Author_E_LeFey

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/EddyLeFey?ref=ts&fref=ts

  Chapter One

  THE ANGEL HAD been sent to reprimand him. Apparently he’d incited too much lust amongst the mortals last month, or some such nonsense. He was over his quota. Heaven had become so damned bureaucratic during the last few centuries, replacing the divine retribution of old with endless edicts and examinations. Not that Hell was much better. These days he spent more time filing forms than fornicating. In any case, this Taharial had stormed into his room without so much as a by-your-leave and was now brandishing a parchment and spouting righteous indignation and pious sermons.

  It had been a long, busy day, and Asmodeus wasn’t in the mood for any visitors, let alone a prissy angel with a stick up his ass. The members of the heavenly host were all the same. They spewed speech after speech, telling mortals and demons alike how to live their lives, while never bothering to experience any of the things they condemned. This Taharial might not be so eager to eschew lust if he tasted its pleasures for himself.

  As Taharial continued to preach, a plan formed in Asmodeus’ mind. He leapt from his chair, grabbed Taharial, and tossed him across the room. The attack took Taharial by surprise, and Asmodeus had him chained to the bed before he could so much as think of putting up a fight.

  The shock on Taharial’s blanched face. And the sudden fear. Those twin expressions affected Asmodeus more than the most powerful aphrodisiac and, although he’d intended the capture as nothing more than a jest, he couldn’t help that his cock hardened at the sight of the pretty angel spread-eagled before him. He was a lust demon; it was in his nature.

  Taharial’s gaze lowered. Asmodeus’ arousal strained against the confines of his trousers. It was impossible to miss, even for an innocent angel, and Asmodeus anticipated Taharial would tug on his bonds and make a panicked call to his brothers. At which point Asmodeus planned to release him and confess it was all a joke. No harm, no foul.

  But Taharial remained motionless. Was he too frightened to act?

  Asmodeus frowned and peered down at him. He had expected to see horror and revulsion in Taharial’s eyes, yet all he read in them was need… mingled with a delectable hint of shame.

  Asmodeus couldn’t hold back a chuckle. He stalked to and fro in front of Taharial, taunting him. Imagine it: Taharial, one of the fucking angels of purity, succumbing to base desire. If word of this got out it would cause an even greater scandal than when the soul-scamming demon ran off with his mortal target a few months back.

  With every jibe that passed his lips, Asmodeus waited for Taharial to cry for help, to end it. But the angel remained still and silent, his eyes closed. Or, no. Not quite. When Asmodeus paused long enough to look closer he saw Taharial’s lips were moving, although the words were too faint to be heard.

  He bounded onto the bed and straddled Taharial. He was taken aback when he felt the press of a half-hard cock against his inner thigh, but when Taharial opened his eyes and turned a pleading gaze upon him, he covered his surprise with a sneer. Then he leaned in and tilted his head, placing his ear close to Taharial’s mouth so he could hear what he had to say.

  “Please.”

  The word was no more than a whisper, but it jolted Asmodeus, ringing in his ears louder than the never-ending screams of the damned. He sat back and looked down at his captive. Taharial’s bright blue eyes were rather beautiful, now that he thought about it. How could he not have noticed that before?

  He shook his head, clearing his mind of such nonsense. He wasn’t going to let a pathetic plea and a pretty pout wrench control from him. If Taharial wanted out, he was going to have to beg for it. That would make Heaven think twice before sending anyone down to bother him again.

  “Please what? What do you want, angel?” He spat out the last word, making sure he left Taharial in no doubt as to how he felt about angel-kind. “Do you want me to let you go? Is that it? Plead a little longer and I might consider it.”

  Taharial gave a vehement shake of his head. “Please.” His voice cracked. “Please touch me.”

  Asmodeus stared. There was nothing else he could do; the request had rendered him incapable of speech or action. He had to have misheard. For all his taunts, he’d never truly believed Taharial would give in to any brief flame of desire that might have arisen from the position in which he found himself. Sure, on a rare occasion an angel might succumb to a moment of passion with a mortal. And demons slept with humans all the time, whether for fun, to stir up trouble, or as part of a deal to gain their soul. But angels and demons never bedded each other. It was an unwritten rule. It was the ultimate taboo.

  It was… too thrilling to resist.

  Sex had formed a major component of Asmodeus’ day for untold centuries. As a mortal, he’d been promiscuous by age twelve. Then, once he’d accepted the offer to join Hel
l’s ranks, it had become his raison d’être. Men or women. Mortals or demons. He didn’t discriminate; he lay with them all. A good romp never failed to bring him pleasure, but he’d not been this fired-up at the thought of a conquest in a long time. What would it be like to fuck an angel? His enthusiasm was boundless. Nevertheless, he had no intention of letting Taharial see his excitement at the prospect, so he sighed and studied his nails for a moment before speaking.

  “I suppose I could. So long as that parchment you’ve dropped on my floor ends up misplaced and any heavenly mark against my name is removed. Do we have a deal?”

  Taharial nodded, and Asmodeus reached to undo the chains that bound his wrists.

  “No. Wait.”

  Asmodeus paused but kept his fingers on the bindings. “You’ve changed your mind? Good thing you’re not an angel of constancy or I’d be concerned for the spiritual well-being of the humans above.”

  Although he smirked and kept his voice even, Asmodeus suffered a twinge of disappointment. No, more than a twinge. The idea of debauching Taharial had taken root. He’d been so looking forward to corrupting one of Heaven’s finest. To being the first of his kind to sample a forbidden delicacy. Apples be damned—here was fruit more attractive.

  “No. The bonds. Leave them in place.”

  Asmodeus blinked. Then the reality of Taharial’s request—that he wanted to remain bound and at his mercy—sent a wave of raging desire flooding through him.

  He surged forward and captured Taharial’s mouth in a fierce, punishing kiss. And when he ran his tongue along the seam of Taharial’s lips, he was granted access. Taharial tasted divine—as he should—and Asmodeus plundered every crevice, forcing his tongue deeper and deeper. Then he sat back, grabbed fistfuls of Taharial’s robes, and pulled.

  The material ripped with a pleasing sound, and Taharial’s pale flesh was exposed to his view. He ran his hands over the flawless, smooth skin, and Taharial bucked and moaned beneath him. When he wrapped a hand around Taharial’s virgin cock, Taharial began a litany of mewls and incomprehensible pleas that were music to Asmodeus’ ears.

  He worked Taharial’s shaft with one hand in slow, steady strokes, keeping his touch light. Taharial’s inexperience meant he wouldn’t last long, and Asmodeus didn’t want him coming too soon. He might never get a chance like this again, and there were other things he wished to do before their time together ended.

  A few whispered words saw his fingers coated in lubricant. He reached to Taharial’s entrance and circled it a few times before pushing in the first digit. Taharial’s eyes widened and he squirmed, but he soon grew accustomed to the intrusion and settled.

  Asmodeus maintained his gentle attentions to Taharial’s cock as he worked to open him. As exciting as it was to have an angel spread and bound before him, Asmodeus was a lust demon, not a sadist. He wanted Taharial to feel nothing but pleasure from their joining. There was no joy for Asmodeus in forcing him, hurting him. His greatest gratification came from seeing Taharial give himself over to primal urges and embrace his darkest desires.

  When he knew Taharial was ready, Asmodeus removed his fingers, freed his aching cock from the confines of his trousers, and pressed forward, inching his way into the pliant body beneath him.

  Taharial gasped and panted, and Asmodeus stared deep into his eyes as he continued to fill him. Taharial’s pupils were so dilated only a thin circle of that dazzling blue was visible. As exquisite as the azure color was, Asmodeus decided he liked Taharial’s eyes even more like this—knowing he was the one who’d caused the change. Knowing he had made an angel of purity fall from grace.

  That thought spurred him on until a final thrust saw him fully sheathed. And, by Hell, it felt so damned good. So warm and tight. He waited a moment to give Taharial time to adjust, but then he could hold back no longer.

  He pulled out partway and slammed back in. Taharial whimpered, but not from pain. In fact, Taharial tugged on his bonds and tried to shift down in an attempt to force Asmodeus deeper inside him. Asmodeus needed no further encouragement than that, and he shifted his grip to Taharial’s hips for leverage as he pounded into him.

  It wasn’t long before Taharial climaxed. He convulsed as he came, and that tightening around Asmodeus’ cock brought about his own release. He collapsed forward, smearing Taharial’s cum between them, and for a long moment they both lay there, sweaty and short of breath.

  Asmodeus came to his senses first and rose from the bed. A couple of whispered spells saw his body cleaned and his clothing tidied in a matter of seconds. He considered attending to Taharial’s appearance, too, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so yet. Not when he painted such a beautiful picture, chained and covered in cum, his halo of blond curls damp and disheveled. Asmodeus tried to burn the image into his mind so he would never forget it.

  The day he debased an angel.

  One for the record books. It had been, without a doubt, the most captivating sexual encounter of his long life. And since sex was his job, that was saying something.

  When Taharial stirred, Asmodeus unfastened the chains. A spell cleaned Taharial’s skin and another saw his robes come back together, the tears in the fabric gone.

  Taharial scrambled from the bed. His face was flushed and he was careful not to meet Asmodeus’ eyes. He collected the parchment from the floor, ripped it in half, and tossed the two pieces onto the bed. When his gaze fell upon the stained and crumpled sheets, his blush deepened and he fled, slamming the door behind him.

  Asmodeus sauntered across the room and retrieved the torn document. He raised his right hand, ready to call up a burst of Hell-Fire and destroy the offending text once and for all. But then he reconsidered. Instead of reducing it to ash, he slid it under the mattress as a memento.

  TAHARIAL QUIT HELL as fast as feet and feathers would carry him and made his way topside. He couldn’t return to Heaven—not yet—so he used magic to conceal his wings from mortal view and paced one of the humans’ city parks. It was almost nighttime, and the cool evening air soothed his heated skin, helped steady his breathing, and calmed his mind.

  He rubbed his wrists where the chains had held him in place; he could feel them even now. And it wasn’t only the bite of cold metal that stayed with him. He could still feel Asmodeus’ touch, too. All over his skin. Deep inside him. If he went home before he regained control of his thoughts, his brothers would see something was wrong.

  They would know what he’d done.

  He collapsed onto a bench and buried his head in his hands. What had he done? What had come over him? In the past, he’d experienced the odd spark of curiosity when he watched mortals copulate and saw the look of ecstasy on their faces. He’d pondered their joy and wondered if he was capable of feeling the same. But his interest had been purely academic. He was an angel of purity, and a poor one he would be were he to allow such imaginings to take hold.

  From time to time, angels did succumb. Such failings were hushed up, but everyone knew they occurred. Had he lost control with a mortal, he was certain he would have confessed his error at once. The archangels would have imposed the usual penance, and he would have complied with their judgment and cleansed himself of sin. But what he’d done was beyond the pale. He’d permitted a demon to desecrate his body. How could he own up to so despicable an act? He would be stripped of his wings forever and cast down.

  Yet, surely they would see it wasn’t his fault. Were any of his brethren to discover what had happened, he could tell them he’d been bound. Chained to the bed, there was nothing he could have done to prevent Asmodeus taking what he wanted. Nothing at all. He’d been at the demon’s mercy, and everyone knew demons had none. He was blameless.

  Liar!

  He cringed at the accusing voice inside his head and tried to shut it out, but instead of retreating, it grow stronger.

  Lust and telling untruths. Two grievous sins in one day. You know Asmodeus never forced you. You begged him to lay his hands on you. You pleaded with him not t
o remove the chains. He seemed nice, for a demon. Reasonable. He would have released you had you asked. But when you saw his arousal, you wondered. When you looked upon his handsome form, you coveted. You wanted to know, once and for all, what it would be like. Now you do.

  And you want more.

  Taharial resumed his frantic pacing. He’d made a terrible mistake, that was true, but there was no need to tell anyone about it. He’d satisfied his curiosity and there it must end.

  Memories of hard, hot flesh pushing into him and images of luminous crimson eyes ablaze with desire assailed Taharial and he gasped as warmth pooled in his groin. Nevermore could he think of such things. He wouldn’t. He’d make his own, private atonement for his fault and he’d not succumb again. A few days, that’s all it would take, and then he’d put the unfortunate incident behind him and forget it had ever taken place.

  He checked that no mortals were nearby; then he spread his wings and kicked off, making his way back to Heaven. He told himself he would stick to his plan, that any cravings he may have had for the pleasures of the flesh were satisfied. But as he rose toward the clouds, that inner voice piped up again to whisper a single word:

  Liar.

  Chapter Two

  TWENTY-SEVEN DAYS had passed since Taharial’s visit. Not that Asmodeus was counting. Memories of that day did haunt him, though. They replayed in his mind over and over in high-definition Technicolor. It was making it difficult to concentrate on his work.

  What had happened between him and Taharial had been a one-time thing—glorious, but never to be repeated. That’s what he kept telling himself; however, the words seemed hollow. He put his obsession down to the fact it had been so taboo. Things that shouldn’t be done were always more appealing. As a demon, there was precious little off-limits to him, so naturally the one thing that was would be a draw. Though, on reflection, fucking an angel would probably earn him brownie points at present. Following the recent debacle that had made them look like fools, all of Hell longed more than ever to get one over on the sanctimonious bastards upstairs. Yet he hadn’t said a word about the encounter to anyone. It was his secret. He preferred it that way.