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“I don't give a fuck that the asshole doesn't know I'm here…move!”
“I cannot do that, Mr. Blitz.”
“Either I smash your head on the spot or I could stick something big and disgusting up your little asshole!”
“Maybe some other time I would like that, but Stolas does not really want any visitors today…”
“If you don't want to have a threesome with us I suggest you shut your dirty mouth and open the fucking door!”
“I would never indulge my master and practice weird sexual plays with him…”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You are once sentence away from a smashed head! Stop fucking around and open the…door…or else…”
“What is that noise?”
He was standing there in his satin robe and slippers with rabbit ears. You could tell he was like a wet chicken, more precisely an owl. Literally.
“Blitzy!” he breathed, surprised. “Did something happen? Why… are you here?” Stolas stared at him, trying to make out why the Imp came through the door and not through the window like always. When he realized he was standing in front of the two men almost naked he shyly put the flaps together to hide his chest.
“Mr. Blitz wanted an audience with your highness,” the servant bowed guiltily. “I couldn't explain to him that…”
“Stolas!” The little Imp wasn't listening. He got the owl king away from the door and backed him into the room in one swift motion, closing the door behind them.
“Blitzy, to what I owe the pleasure?” Stolas hoped his voice sounded normal and not distraught. His heart, hidden behind dusty feathers, was hammering painfully and weeped with tears of happiness and sadness all at once.
“Fuck! Shit! You parasitic bird!” Blitz growled and started marching around the room. He stopped in front of the tissues covered sofa and spared a glance at the bottle of alcohol sitting on the table. “Since when do you watch this shit?” He grabbed the TV remote and cut off Milagros' speech targeted towards some guy in a ponytail. He then turned his body towards the bird demon, who still stood next to the door. “Are you…Do you feel…?”
Stolas could feel the goosebumps gliding across his skin and the blood thumping in his head was trying to make him faint. If that happened in front of the Imp, the embarrassment would be unredeemable. The words with which he wanted to apologize got stuck in his throat and all he did was rasp loudly. Blitz was standing closely in front of him, making the demon look down right into his eyes.
“Do you want some tea?” Stolas couldn't think of anything better to say.
“Bro! No! I did not come here to sip on some tea bag sewer water!”
“So…you came here…” Stolas swallowed loudly and thanked the fucking God for feathers, because it meant that his sweat couldnt be seen.
“Of course I came here to fuck you!” Blitz laughed and roughly slid his hand down the owl's crotch. “What did you think I came here to do? I never come for tea, or to watch telenovelas!”
“Ha…ha…”
Even though Blitz was holding him hard down there, he wasn't rough. He wasn't looking at him with lust and even though his white eyes were laced with ghostly veins, they weren't there because he was a demon.
“But you have the crystal. There is no need for you to visit me officially- through the door,” Stolas whispered.
“What if I wanted to!” Blitz angrily retorted. “I wanted to humiliate you. Have everyone to know that I own you and that you are the biggest slut hell has ever seen! I hope your bitch finds out and plucks out all of the feathers around her cunt!”
“Next time, I would be glad if you came-”
“There will be no next time you horny cocksucker!” Blitz knocked Stolas to the ground. With a swift movement, he tore the flaps of his robe away, revealing a small, girlish chest that was visibly quivering with excitement. And at the same time revealed a spot that still hadn't healed and formed a hideous burnt hole in the ashy soft feathers.
Stolas closed his eyes and hid the spot with his hand, turning away his head shyly.
“You can do whatever you want with me,” he quietly said. “I deserve to be punished. For the way I look. For what happened to me…”
“Did- did Striker do this to you?”
Stolas squeaked and pressed his eyeslids together tightly.
“That motherfucker- did he do anything else to you? Touch you- or?” Blitzo's claws were scanning the bird's body slowly. “Did he take…you?”
Stolas shivered slightly and said quietly: “Nothing happened between us. His knife did not pierce deep enough. The words he said to me were not harmful. But still, I deserve punishment. I let you down and-”
A long nimble tongue entered his mouth and a warm palm covered his eyes. He could feel hot kisses lining the edge of his beak, as if someone wanted to leave a permanent tattoo on him. The darkness that surrounded him frightened him. Although born in hell, in darkness and heat, this darkness terrified him and the heat burned him. His body floated among the stars and planets he ruled. He choked on his own breath and each quill pierced his skin like thousands of red-hot arrows.
“I'll kill him!”
Those two words brought Stolas back to Earth, to Hell. He dared to open his eyes and stared blankly at the red face of his tormentor. The owl prince was not gagged or tied to the bed. He was lying on the bare ground, just outside the door, behind which a servant was probably standing and heard his soft moans. Blitz's brow furrowed and his hands clenched into fists. He was angry. Very angry. Blitz was a killer. Theoretically and practically. But now he looked like a real killer.
“Striker did nothing-” Stolas squealed, he hated violence. Except the one committed on him. “Nothing happened between ussss-.”
Blitz's claw penetrated the wound in the owl's shoulder, and red drops of blood immediately covered the area around. The demon prince had the ability to regenerate quickly, and even though he was no longer under the influence of the blessed rope, he kept this wound as a punishment. To heal as long as ordinary mortals.
“Could you shut the fuck up?” Blitz's claw made its way deeper into the wound. Like a scalpel, he cut away the tissue that Striker had destroyed with his cowboy boots. “No one can hurt you. Do you understand? Only I can!”
Stolas closed his eyes once again and whined softly. The pain aroused him. And hurt him. He felt the anger from Blitz's aura. But also the freedom he granted him with the punishment.
“Blitzyyy,” he moaned when the angry spit got into his wound and the invisible flames started to kill the blue cells of his royal blood. He clenched his claws and arched his slender body in a tense spasm. His silver chest feathers began to float as if in space. In the no-gravity zone.
“I want to hear you, asshole!” Blitz purred right next to his face. “I want to hear you saying my name. Cursing me. How you hate that bitch Stella! I want to hear you beg for- for…”
“...I want you!” Stolas moaned and the whole universe collapsed into his face. It took him a few infinite seconds to realize he smeared his seed on his belly. He panicked because he was never allowed to do this without permission. “S-sorry!” he blurted out.
I fucked up. He said this would be the last time. This is a goodbye. I will never see him again. And I let him down. I lost everything…
“Have you ever thought about what you actually want?” rang next to his head. “Your father planned a future for you. He has so many children he doesn't even know who your mother is. My mom was amazing. And yours must have been too. Fathers suck. Yours knows nothing about you and mine sold me out. To you. You know…our fathers had an agreement, I was supposed to be your friend. It was beautiful. You were so…”
Blitz was straddling the demon prince but did not dare to look at him. Then slowly rose up and undid the button of his trousers.
“You should have had bigger balls. You have blue blood after all. You should never be the one to bow down,” he mumbled and let gravity do its thing. His chest was also puffing with excitement and his penis couldnt be missed.
“But I really shouldn't!” Stolas cried out. “Stella-”
“Is a bitch!” Blitz snapped and pressed his lips to the sharp beak. “Shut up, seriously. I am trying to tell you something motherfucker!”
“But I understand, it's a punishment. For not acknowledging you at the bar…”
“Shut up. Shut. Your. Fuckass. Beak!”
Blitz stroked his length a few times and covered two of his fingers in spit. He had done it a thousand times. His mind was always thinking about him. How he would break something inside of Stolas, throw an overwhelming gaze at him and freeze the moment in time. And then he would take him hard, just as Blitz did him.
“Tell me,” Blitz whispered. “Have you ever thought, while I was fucking you, what is it that you feel for me? Am I just an accessory, something to spice up your relationship with Stella or are you just using me to live out your sexual fantasies?”
He did not wait for an answer.
Blitz had the demon's cock in his mouth many times. He knew how majestic it was. So even his toys at home were similar in size. He was ready. His lover never wanted to admit it.
He placed his right hand between the owl's sharp jaws so that he could not speak or defend anything or anyone. He slowly dragged his tongue from the pubic area to the sharp end of the giant bird's "eminence". He savored every vein that permeated the thin skin. He could feel his tongue quivering, his temperature rising and tiny salty sprinkles seeping to the surface of their own accord.
And the moment he had subdued him, he blinded his mouth, about to protest, with his own kiss. He closed his eyes so he couldn't see his face. He could feel his long member penetrating inside him and steaming his insides. Excruciating pain, yet so intoxicating.
“Blitzyy,” Stolas whined again. “I am so sorry…”
The red Imp heavily landed on the crotch of his lover. He was focused on breathing and wasn't paying attention to the feathered prince. It took him a few minutes to get used to the new feeling.
“You are a moron, Stolas,” Blitz's eyes finally fluttered open. His lover looked beautiful. Those red eyes of his were full of chastity. Those silver-gray feathers quivering on his chest. And his cock, throbbing inside him. He slowly lifted himself up to enjoy his full length. Several times. He drooled on his palm and tugged on his little Imp in the same rhythm. As the sperm poured into his insides, it burned like hot coal and corrosive acid. He didn't scream. He just dug his sharp claws into the ashen dust cover on his lover's chest and stared at the door, dumbfounded with a powerful orgasm.
He felt the air laced with invisible particles of energy and things around him magically floated. All those tissues, wet with tears. The flames of the candles suddenly went out, and all the petals fell from the flowers in the huge vase. The world around them was suddenly engulfed in a dazzling glow, as if God himself had come to punish them with his presence and roast them in divine light. Stolas' thin shoulders twitched convulsively, and only muffled screams came out of the half-opened beak. In a normal situation, Blitz would have grabbed him by the throat and choked him. Instead, he carefully folded himself onto his chest, listening to his frantic heartbeat. He slowly traced his fingers up his arm, keeping an eye on their graceful walk along the feathers to the owl's wrist. He gently squeezed them and massaged his palm until the trembling stopped. He was silent. He ran out of dirty words and never read poetry, so he couldn't enrich the moment. He realized how much Stolas' slow breathing was putting him to sleep.
Stolas was also silent. He could still feel Blitz clutching him inside, the gelatinous puree seeping through his feathers, leaving a jelly-like trail behind. It took him tens of minutes before he dared to move. His touch on Blitz's horn was fleeting and full of apprehension. He never touched it. Until now, he had no idea how smooth and warm the shell was. Without a single flaw. Like the marble floor in his palace. He listened to his heart, which he had never heard before. It beat in a strange rhythm and chaos. He tried to read the strange morse code and learn the truth. Because Blitz wasn't one to reveal his deep self.
The room got dark. You couldn't even hear someone's breath. They both thought the other had fallen asleep. Blitz sat up carefully and stared at the motionless face of his lover. His eyes were closed and his beak was slightly opened. The Imp hovered above him and his lips lingered close to the owl's face. He let himself be kissed by the breath and then straightened himself up. When he got off the owl's length, he felt so empty. Not only down there but inside of his chest, too. The owl's eyelids fluttered and Blitz was certain he heard a faint don't leave.
“I am sorry,” he whispered and pulled his pants up. He grabbed a soft blanket from the sofa and covered the prince who was lying still on the floor. He watched him for a moment and then looked at the window where a purple curtain swayed in the gentle breeze. He could sneak out this way and hope he didn't end up in the middle of a tea party like the last time. Finally, his old self won out in him and he burst open the high door with all his might.
“I hope you thoroughly enjoyed this under-the-threshold shadow theater!” Blitz croaked, patting the servant on the shoulder. He had been standing, probably motionless, the whole time outside the door. “You should give your master a bath full of hot water with a birch bark mixed with a pinch of chamomile, because his ass has taken quite a beating and it's going to take a while to recover. But you know how it goes. His cum is like glue and he's having a hard time getting it out of his feathery six pack. Be careful I don't want him to look like a plucked chicken... He wouldn't want that either, man!”
“I will try my best sir,” the servant mumbled, thinking.
“I am glad he is in good hands, you old bastard. You should find yourself a wifey,” Blitz ended the conversation and started walking down the long polished hall. His steps echoed like bangs in front lines of war. He whistled the Chant du départ softly, hoping no one could hear the cracks caused by the unwanted salty sprinkles forming in the corners of his eyes and the strange aftertaste of defeat in his mouth…