Master of the Game

by Jane Kindred

  Before he could get up the nerve to say he’d changed his mind, they descended on him and pushed him to the ground, yanking at his clothes and stripping him. Phaleg struggled helplessly. It was freezing in the room. He couldn’t remember his word. He couldn’t remember his fucking word. “Heaven help me!” he cried.

  The demons laughed, and one of them knelt on his shoulders and unbuckled with unhurried motions while the others egged him on and mocked Phaleg in the language he couldn’t understand. Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes as his mouth was forced open by a pair of gloved hands he couldn’t even place with their owner.

  The demon on his chest lowered his head to Phaleg’s and whispered at his ear. “Do you want this, angelwhore?” Silk. Sweet Heaven. It was Silk.

  Phaleg closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. His word was Arkhangel’sk. He opened his eyes once more and met Silk’s above him. They were plainly his. How could Phaleg not have noticed? No one but Silk had such beautiful eyes. He nodded. Despite the gloved fingers holding his jaw, the nod was clear. Silk nodded in reply before his eyes hardened, and he pushed himself roughly into Phaleg’s mouth.

  “Eat cock,” Silk growled. “Show us all how much you love it. Choke on it until it spits down your throat.” The rough words coming from Silk, knowing he was safe with Silk, made him shiver with arousal despite the way he was being used. He couldn’t even call this cocksucking. He was helpless, and Silk was practically suffocating him, kneeling over his head and grinding into his mouth. When Silk came loudly, pressing into him, Phaleg nearly choked, but he managed to swallow the sweet demon seed. As usual, Silk pulled out before he’d finished to make sure some dribbled down Phaleg’s chin.

  The demons laughed at him, moving back for a moment to have an animated conversation in Russian while Phaleg lay naked on the floor with his prick at attention. One of them suddenly spat into his glove and shoved his hand between Phaleg’s legs, smearing the spittle on his asshole. He gasped as a gloved finger played at his opening and then thrust in. The others didn’t even seem to be paying attention, engaged in some kind of argument. Demons were holding each of his limbs. He couldn’t pull away. The finger pumped him vigorously, making him moan, and the demon grinned inside his hood.

  Someone tossed a ruble coin onto his stomach, and Phaleg jumped at the cold, making his ass clench around the demon’s finger. The demon shoved another finger inside him while the arguing grew more heated. The coin was picked up and tossed onto him again while two of the demons shouted something. It was a contest, he realized, to decide whose turn it was next. But the demon who’d ignored the contest had three fingers in him now, leering down at him and flicking his erection.

  Phaleg twisted his body uselessly, groaning, and the demons holding his legs took the opportunity to yank him forward, mounting him deeper on the ruthless fingers. The demon barked an order to someone, and a cold, slick liquid squirted beneath Phaleg’s balls and dripped down. The demon pulled back his hand and scooped up the liquid, thrusting in this time with four fingers tented together. Before Phaleg could draw enough breath to cry out, the thumb was tucked inside the cup of the demon’s hand, and it was all going in.

  The demon made a lewd gesture with his tongue, rolling his wrist inside Phaleg. Belphagor.

  “Fuck,” Phaleg gasped without meaning to, followed by a long groan as Belphagor penetrated him deeper.

  “Bozhe moi,” someone whispered. “Hold me, Ruby.” Silk had slipped out of character, apparently overcome by the sight of Phaleg with Belphagor’s entire fist up his ass.

  There was no time to enjoy that moment as Belphagor made him groan and clench up painfully against a rapid motion. He’d lost his erection. Phaleg willed himself to relax or it would only get worse.

  “Take it, angel.” Belphagor’s knuckles twisted inside him. “This is what you deserve. So high and mighty. Heavenly Host. You’re nothing but a sniveling little boy.” He fucked Phaleg steadily with his fist until Phaleg let out an involuntary wail. “Somebody shut him up. And turn him. I want his ass in the air.”

  They flipped him bodily, Belphagor managing to keep fist-fucking him the whole while. On his hands and knees, Phaleg instinctively tried to crawl away, but the demon in front of him stopped him with a hand around his throat and stopped the desperate noise he was making with a hard cock. He swallowed it so he wouldn’t gag, groaning and wailing around the cock pumping his throat while Belphagor’s fist pumped his ass.

  They’d pushed him into an awkward position, two demons still holding his arms out to the sides and his face pressed down into the groin of the one kneeling at his mouth, while his legs were spread wide and his ass was lifted. Belphagor had Phaleg’s cock in his other fist, masturbating him back to a helpless erection while he plundered Phaleg’s ass without mercy.

  The demons were talking and laughing again, and they were passing around a bottle of alcohol, not caring if it spilled on him, cold and stinging where it dripped into his ass. He was an object, like the bottle. Like the coin they were flipping to establish the order they’d have him in.

  Phaleg cried out around the thrusting cock as Belphagor pulled out without trying to go easy on him. Another demon lined up behind him, and his ankles were held firmly in place. A thick demon cock burrowed into the opening Belphagor’s fist had vacated. The warmth was extraordinary. It could only be Vasily. Phaleg tried to brace himself, but there really was no doing anything the way they had him, and all he could was submit to the cock driving into him in that angry, excited way Vasily had.

  Belphagor’s hand still dragged on Phaleg’s cock, and he whimpered into the shaved groin as he realized he was going to come and there was nothing he could do about it. He was grunting like an animal—impossible not to do with a cock like Vasily’s pounding him and another deep in his throat—and Belphagor was working him expertly. He didn’t want to come. He didn’t like the way they were laughing at him. He must look a fool. It seized him, and he jerked violently, making incoherent sounds that would have sounded like an animal even if his throat weren’t full of cock.

  The demons cheered as it burst out of him, milked into some kind of glass by Belphagor’s hand. Behind him, Vasily fucked him harder, hips slamming into him, making him jolt out more, and then let out a telltale roar as he gripped Phaleg’s hips for one final thrust and shot deep inside him. The heat made it impossible not to feel where it went. At least the demon had remembered to hold back some of that. Demons were groping at him, slapping his ass as Vasily pulled out, squeezing his cock and driving shock waves through him.

  “Who’s next?” He was pretty sure the raucous shout was Belphagor’s.

  “Look at him go to town on that dick.”

  “Hold him still, I’m going to come.”

  Phaleg stiffened for the expected pulse of semen into his throat, moaning helplessly as someone else mounted him. There was no time to wonder whose cock was driving relentlessly into him as he struggled to swallow what the demon was giving him.

  “Fill him up. He’s sucking the whole thing down.”

  “Hurry up. I get his mouth next.”

  Phaleg lost track of what was happening to him. He heard Silk’s anxious voice a few times at his ear. “Do you want it to stop, love?” Nodding and shaking his head at once, he babbled something with “please” in it, to the demons’ amusement.

  “You remember your word?” His head cleared for a moment. Silk was trying to remind him, to be sure he’d use it if he truly wanted it to stop.

  “Yes, milord.” He wasn’t supposed to say that. “Sorry, milord.”

  The demon who’d just had him had been wearing some kind of sheath on his cock, and the come was dripping out of it into the glass with his own come in it.

  Someone yanked him by the hair, forcing him up off the blanket and onto his knees. The demon crouched in front of him, about to fuck him in the mouth, but paused to look into his eyes. “He wants it. He knows he deserves it. Don’t you, boy?”

 
Phaleg focused on Belphagor’s voice and nodded up at him, feeling the heat in his face as he admitted it.

  “Hold your mouth open.”

  Phaleg obeyed, and Belphagor entered him forcefully. Another demon held him up while Belphagor had his way, making comments and jokes about the way he sucked. Phaleg’s mouth hurt from being stretched, and his throat was sore.

  “I’m going to come down your throat,” Belphagor promised and made good on it. “That’s it. Drink it down like the filthy angel slut you are, being fucked in an alley in the Devil’s Doorstep with everyone watching.” Belphagor had the glass that had been passed around and he raised it and dribbled the thick fluid over Phaleg’s face as he finished in him. “That’s what you are. A jizz-holder.” Belphagor pulled out and put himself away. “Can’t get enough. Luckily, we’ve been selling turns on you to the rest of the crowd.”

  Phaleg began to weep, forgetting this wasn’t real, thinking for a moment that a horde of demons was waiting to have him. Silk swept in and pushed Belphagor out of the way, pulling off his woolen hood. Phaleg collapsed sobbing in his arms.

  “Hush. It’s all right, angelwhore. I’m here. I love you.” Silk rocked him, and his voice turned furious as he rounded on Belphagor. “You took it too far. You always have to take everything too far.”

  “No.” Belphagor ran his hand through the sweaty spikes of his hair as he unmasked himself. “He needed that. He needed to feel despair.” Belphagor crouched in front of them, his hand gentle on Phaleg’s dirty face. “Didn’t you, sweet boy?”

  Phaleg tried to nod, but the tenderness in Belphagor’s voice made him cry harder.

  “Let him cry. He just needs the release.”

  No longer in their disguises, Dmitri quietly gathered up the dirty blanket, and Lev laid down a soft, clean one, along with pillows. Silk prompted Phaleg into the center. They were all gathering around him in a protective pile on the blanket, like puppies in a litter trying to snuggle close, stroking him and kissing the top of his head. Lev washed his face with a warm cloth, and Silk held him and let him cry while Belphagor told him what a good boy he was. Even Vasily curled around him tenderly, warming him with his firespirit heat. Instead of his fear that they’d think little of him afterward for submitting so fully, instead of thinking him weak, they were cherishing him like he’d done something beautiful and brave. He’d never felt so safe and loved.

  Phaleg had imagined this scenario a hundred different ways in the privacy of his wanton fantasies—though he’d never expected it to actually happen—but he’d never imagined afterward.

  He was so crazy in love with Silk right now, he couldn’t fathom how he could ever express it. A week ago, he’d thought his life was over, that he and Silk were over. Just this morning, he’d still believed nothing lay ahead of him but the few dozen years of a human lifespan in the drudgery of terrestrial exile before he died alone among strangers. Now he had a future with a demon who knew him more intimately than any angel ever could have—who knew his darkest needs and desires and wasn’t afraid to give him what he ached for. And who cherished him for it. He had a future of infinite possibilities with the demon he loved.

  He wasn’t sure when he’d stopped crying, but Silk had let go of him and was crawling down the blanket, his soft mouth flitting over Phaleg’s skin. Phaleg sighed, so relaxed he couldn’t have stopped Silk if he’d wanted to, when that softness closed over his cock, making him hard immediately, though he’d have sworn he had nothing left in him. This time, they all took turns worshiping his cock, two demons at his sides sucking his nipples till they were tight and hard as facets. It was Vasily who made him come, with that crazy heat of his, while Silk kissed him and moaned in unison with his pleasure.

  He fell asleep in Silk’s arms and woke sometime later to find they were alone, a pile of blankets on top of them.

  Silk must have sensed him waking. His arms tightened around him. “Hey. Are you okay?”

  Phaleg nodded. “How could I not be, waking up in your arms?”

  “I mean it. I need to know if you’re all right. The game got pretty intense.”

  Phaleg rolled onto his shoulder and played with Silk’s glossy hair. “I mean it too. I’m very okay. That was… It was crazy…wonderful…awful. Thank you.” He smiled shyly. “Milord.”

  Silk grinned. “I can’t believe I get to keep you. It’s like getting a pony for a Solstice present.”

  “I can’t believe you just compared me to a pony.”

  “Come on, Pony.” Silk threw off the blankets, and the cold rushed in like a harsh slap. “You need a bath. You’re caked with demon come.”

  Phaleg let Silk prod him to his feet and hustle him to the washroom, not at all against the idea of a bath. The water came out of the faucet already heated from a boiler somewhere below; he’d taken a shower yesterday, but the prospect of a bath in that warm water was like Heaven itself.

  He slipped into the little closet next door while Silk ran the bath, finally able to relieve his bladder, amazed at the little button that plunged it all away into some mysterious other dimension and replaced it with a bowl of clean water. Phaleg giggled to himself at the idea of a dimension full of piss and soil. Thank Heaven he hadn’t had to fall there. But these little conveniences—he could get used to them. Maybe the world of Man wasn’t going to be so bad.

  In the bath, he sat in front with Silk’s soft legs around him and let Silk pamper him while they soaked, lathering him with sweet-smelling soap. He was sore and bruised in a lovely way, like he’d ridden a rather violent horse but had an exhilarating ride. Silk nibbled at his ear and drew Phaleg’s head back to kiss him, with bubbles trapped between them.

  Draping his arm back over his shoulder and around Silk’s neck, Phaleg gazed up at him. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Silk kissed him again. “Pony.”

  Devyatnadtsataya

  After some much less intense play with Dmitri and Lev that night, Belphagor and Vasily shared the bed with them. Vasily was pretty sure all the damned demons were trying to steal his heat. He was also pretty sure it wasn’t the first night Belphagor had spent in this bed on this trip to the world of Man.

  When he realized it didn’t matter, he was kind of amazed at himself. Even seeing how much Belphagor enjoyed tormenting the angel whose presence had once made Vasily’s blood literally boil hadn’t bothered him. Somewhere along the way, he’d begun to believe he was truly Belphagor’s boy. Vasily wasn’t going to lose him to a momentary fancy.

  Lev was up before the rest of them, making a grand breakfast of blinchiki and sausage. They all tiptoed around Phaleg a bit when he and Silk emerged. Vasily realized this must have been how Dmitri and Lev had felt after the four of them first played together. Vasily had done nothing to ease their discomfort, acting like a jealous ass. But the angel merely blushed prettily and couldn’t seem to stop smiling. Seemed he was just fine.

  While they relaxed with tea, Phaleg even managed to make a joke about Belphagor’s fist almost making room for Vasily. Then everyone had to agree that getting fucked in the ass by Vasily was a dubious, if delightful prospect, making him blush even more than Phaleg had.

  “Vasily was my introduction to that particular delight,” the angel added. “For months afterward, I thought every demon in Raqia must be hiding a monstrous weapon in his pants.”

  “Bozhe moi.” Vasily drank his tea, trying to ignore the ribbing, but they were all enjoying themselves too much. “Shut up,” he growled at last. “Or I’ll fuck you all in the ass.”

  “Oh, Ruby.” Silk rested his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands with a dreamy sigh after the laughter died down. “I’m going to miss you.”

  After breakfast, Belphagor suggested a walk in the park. Silk thought it sounded a bit dull, but if it prolonged their leave-taking, he was all for it. The “park” turned out to be a magical place where the palaces of the long-dead tsars who’d once ruled this world still stood, museums to their former glory. It was
a rare sunny day, the snow that had been falling since he and Vasily themselves had fallen now coating everything like glittering facet chips. Above the white-on-dark lines of the wintering trees, golden domes and spires rose against a fierce blue winter sky, the paler blue of the grand Ekaterina Palace itself a stunning complement to it.

  Silk glanced at Phaleg beside him and let out an involuntary gasp. It was the blue of his angel’s eyes.

  Phaleg squeezed his hand through their gloves. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Silk looked away, inexplicably shy. “You’re breathtaking,” he murmured after a moment.

  “Bozhe moi,” growled Vasily, passing them. “Get a room.”

  Silk grinned, hooking his arm in Phaleg’s, a bit giddy at the realization that he alone among the Fallen and the humans in this world had an angel all his own.

  In the quiet of the snow-blanketed park, a soft thump sounded beside him, and he looked over to see Vasily stop in his tracks, shoulders hunched, while a snowball crumbled into the back of his collar. Belphagor’s laughter rang out from several feet behind them, and Vasily turned, his eyes smoldering.

  “Snow bees,” said Belphagor, almost wheezing the words out through his laughter, and ran for it as Vasily tore after him like an angry bull. He managed to evade him for a few yards before the larger demon tackled him, and they rolled together down the slope of a snow bank, coming to a stop on the powder-covered ice of a frozen brook.

  In front of Silk, Dmitri shook his head. “Vasily’s liable to melt that beneath them if Belphagor’s not careful.”

  “You should probably be worrying about what’s melting on you,” said Lev beside him, and Dmitri turned just in time to get a face full of snow.

  Silk grabbed Phaleg’s arm. “We’d better make a break for it. Looks like this could get ugly.”