Zarak returned to his bedroom late in the evening and noticed the still trembling form of his pet; there was a little bit of blood on the floor leaked out from the abused rectum disregarding the plug. So the angel was still bleeding.
At that moment something dawned on lord Zarak’s mind; angels weren’t able to heal by themselves in the Hell. Azazel’s pain wasn’t going away unless he called a healer or took the angel on the earth.
With annoyed sight Zarak rubbed the bridge of his nose; what to do?
He wasn’t going to leave for earth this late and the healer was already resting.
Making a decision that he was not proud of Zarak opened the drawer on the bedside table and took a small bottle out. He wetted a piece of cloth by odd smelling liquid and walked to his pet pressing the fabric over his nose and mouth: “Do not struggle, my pet. This will ease the pain.”
Azazel smelled the odd scent of the liquid and soon his head started to spin; so his master chose to drug him. His consciousness was slipping away and finally there was nothing.
Zarak watched how his slave relaxed and fell asleep then he took the cloth away and discarded it on the trash can.
In the next morning he needed to take Azazel on the earth so he could heal and adapt to the size of the plug inside him.
With a yawn the daemon tucked the bloody bedcover away and climbed between cool sheets; why the hell had he ever wanted to be a leader of whole circle of Hell?
***
Next morning came chilly and unusually cold in Hell.
Zarak shivered when he woke up and pushed the covers away. “Come here, pet.”
Zarak waited for a moment but nothing happened.
Azazel was still lying on the floor unmoving.
Zarak stood up; had he used wrong drug last night? It should have been worn off by now.
The daemon crouched next to his slave and turned him around noticing how cool the angel’s skin was.
Azazel was still asleep and Zarak slapped him gently on the cheek: “Wake up, pet.”
Nothing happened and the daemon sighed shaking his head; he needed to get Azazel on the earth. Quickly he got dressed and took a warm blanket for his pet wrapping it around the unmoving form. “Here we go.”
Zarak took the angel on his arms and disappeared from his bedroom appearing under the familiar old oak tree. This day was going to be rainy and a chilling breeze made the oak’s leaves quiver.
Suddenly Azazel’s eyes shot open and for a moment Zarak saw pure horror in them; his pet had been seeing a nightmare. As the angel came aware of his surroundings the horror lessened and the fear took its place.
Zarak kept his slave in his arms and watched to the cloudy sky; few more moments and they could go back. He needed his pet to clean himself as his come was still mostly inside held there by the plug.
***
Azazel couldn’t wake up. He tried but something kept him wrapped into the nightmare where everything was twisted. He felt a slap on his cheek and wanted to obey the call of his master but this dream only tightened its hold of him.
After awhile he felt himself be carried by two strong arms and then he felt cool breeze on his face. The breeze hunted the bad dream away and he could finally open his eyes. Why had he seen that kind of nightmare where his tormentors were the angels not the daemons as they were in reality?
As he became more aware he remembered last night and the pain but it was decreasing steadily now.
Soon he only felt the firm stretching caused by the anal plug still in his rectum but the pain was only a minor throb now. The whip marks didn’t burn anymore either and finally Azazel realized they had to be on the earth.
Zarak didn’t look at him and there was grim expression on his face that told the angel that his master wasn’t in best of his moods. The morning was still early which meant that the daemon had probably taken him here without eating his breakfast. Would he be punished for causing trouble by oversleeping?
***
Zarak felt how the body in his arms first relaxed as the pain was soothed away and then tensed from unknown reason. The daemon glanced at his slave who had buried his face against his chest and disappeared from the quiet place appearing in his bedroom.
He set the angel on his own legs and grabbed his upper arm: “You need cleaning.”
Azazel only nodded and followed a demanding tug to the door.
They walked to the bathroom and Zarak motioned the door little further on the room: “You may take the plug off in there. Clean yourself inside out my pet.”
Azazel looked at the door and felt how the daemon opened the straps of his harness taking the thing off of him.
“I’m giving you an hour to clean yourself and then I inspect you, my pet.”
The angel bowed his head and a faint flush painted his cheeks pink; he knew what his brother meant by cleaning inside and out and just how he was going to inspect him afterwards but he had never done anything like it.
Zarak petted his pet’s hair: “There is everything you need in here my pet.”
Saying nothing more the daemon lord left his slave in the bathroom and locked the door behind him.
***
Azazel just stood there for a moment and watched around the room; it was beautiful.
There were ocean blue mosaic tiles on the floor and on the wall with some ornaments of other colors. In the middle of the room was a pool filled with water and by the wall there was shelves full of different types of cleaning equipments and bottles of various shapes and sizes. The room was dimly lighted and the tiles glimmered faintly as did the water.
The angel walked to the door Zarak had pointed; it was the only door there was if not counting the one his master had locked.
The room he entered appeared to be a toilet and just now he realized he really needed to relieve his bladder. But first things first, he wanted that plug out of him. Azazel gave a sigh; this would hurt too but he had to do it anyway. The angel sat on the toilet bowl pulling slowly and carefully the anal plug out; he knew there would be a mess.
***
At the same time Zarak called another slave to clean his bedroom.
The slave clearly flinched while picking up the huge bloody dildo his lord had tossed on the carpet the day before and the daemon smiled grimly: “Just do your job, slave.”
The slave bowed and took the toy away to be cleaned then returned to clean the blood off the carpet and from the floor.
Zarak sat by the table reading some report from the frontline and noting that the slave was almost done he put the papers away: “Took the bed cover and the harness with you and clean them.”
The slave bowed again and turned to gather the mentioned items then turning back to his master: “Do you want me to change the sheets my lord?”
Zarak glanced towards the bed: “You may do that.”
The slave nodded and hurried to take the sheet off the bed then get the new ones from the cabined on the hallway putting them on their places neatly. “I’m done my lord. Is there anything else I could do?”
The daemon shook his head: “Just take the laundry away, slave.”
The slave bowed and walked to the door the laundry in his hands: “As you wish my lord.”
Zarak didn’t even look at the slave concentrating on his papers again and the angel left the room silently.
***
Azazel stepped to the warm water and sighed closing his eyes for a moment; this felt so good. If only he had time to enjoy it instead of hurrying to clean himself so that he would be ready when Zarak came back.
The angel reached for a bottle of liquid soap and took a generous amount of it on his hand lathering it on his wings; it would take the small eternity to clean and arrange his feathers after such time.
When Zarak had bathed him earlier the daemon had not washed his wings and now they were full of dead and broken feathers. Systematically Azazel took the dry feathers away and washed the rest until he came to the roost of his wings; they were the hardest to clean as he had to do it without looking and the area was extremely sensitive.
***
The hour had almost gone when the angel was ready and a little pile of feathers was placed neatly on the ledge of the pool. Azazel knew he had to hurry up and started to wash his body flushing when his fingers traveled to the cleft between his buttocks.
He had cleaned his insides in the toilet and that was the first time he had had an enema. That had been quite unpleasant but not painful as his rectum had already adapted to invasion.
First he had wondered why there were three large syringes full of an oily liquid on the shelf beside the toilet bowl but when he noticed the odd shape of the syringes mouth he knew right away.
After the enemas he had used the cleaning rod to finish his job. That had hurt a little as the fabric was harsh against his sensitive walls.
Azazel shook his head concentrating once more to clean his body; he had to get used to this. After all this was his life from now on.
***
Zarak walked towards the bathroom an annoyed expression all over his face; the report had been concerning.
Angels seemed not been affected at all at the great loss of one of their commanders and the war wasn’t going so well on daemons behalf.
The daemon lord opened the bathroom door and stepped inside freezing there to watch the scene in front of him his bad mood washing away instantly.
Azazel stood in the pool’s waist deep water and washed his hair eyes drifted shut and wings spread to their full length dim light shimmering on the wet feathers like liquid silver. Streams of water ran along the angel’s perfect body and his expression was peaceful for the first time after their reunion.
There was no reason to ruin that precious moment so Zarak just stood there on the door way and watched how his pet worked on the knots on his hair and rinsed it carefully afterwards.
When Azazel was done he opened his eyes and the magical moment ended at the same moment.
The daemon saw first surprise and then the familiar fear coming back in the blue eyes just before the angel bowed his head and folded his wings.
“Are you ready, my pet?” Zarak spoke with quiet voice and took a few steps inside closing the door as Azazel nodded slowly.
“Such a good pet you are. Come here.”
The angel stepped out of the pool and stood a moment on the ledge to let most of the water flow to the ledge and from there back to the pool.
***
All the while Zarak watched his pet enjoying the view; if only they could be more like lovers than master and slave. This thought startled the daemon; since when had he had such thoughts?
Few days ago he had only wanted the angel’s body not his feelings. He had wanted to torture him and subdue him, not hold him in his arms and pet his hair.
Azazel saw an odd expression on his brother’s face when he slowly walked in front of him and kneeled on the floor waiting the orders; what was the daemon thinking?
Zarak shook his head slightly and discarded those annoying thoughts; he had finally got the famous commander to his slave and he was not going to ruin it by becoming sentimental. “Stand up and bent over to put your hands to the floor.”
The angel did as he was ordered and soon felt a finger entering his body; it seemed he would not stay clean very long after all.
The daemon groped the angel’s insides by his fingers for a while and then withdrew them: “Very good, my pet, very good indeed. You’ve cleaned yourself perfectly.” Zarak couldn’t help his body as he felt his erection rub against his trousers: “Just stay like this, my pet.”
Azazel heard the daemon opening his trousers and readied himself for more pain but when Zarak thrust his phallus inside he felt only some stretching. And soon there was a jolt of pure pleasure as the hard flesh hit something deep inside him.
The angel closed his eyes; Zarak felt so good inside him. His body had fully adapted to have sex with another male and now he was forced to feel pleasure even though he didn’t want it to happen.
Once again a tear slide from his closed eye; he had dreamed once that he would share his bed with his brother in tender love making but this was just a rape.
After a moment Azazel felt his back starting to hurt and his legs too ached. These feelings took the forced pleasure away and once again there was only the familiar pain present as Zarak continued his steady thrusting.
***
Afterwards Zarak had ushered his pet to clean himself again and Azazel was thankful of that. The warm water eased the ache in his legs and back and the silence in the room was serene as the angel sat in the water his master right next to him.
Zarak rinsed his body and watched as Azazel washed everything else but one place. “Did you forget something my pet?”
The angel turned towards him and Zarak saw hesitation in his eyes before they turned towards the pool’s edge where lay a cleaning rod.
“That’s right my pet. I want you to be clean inside out when we leave this room.”
Azazel felt color rising on his cheeks when he reached for the stick with soft sponge like head and bowed his head; did he have to clean himself before his brother? It was humiliating enough to do it by himself…
Zarak saw the angel’s hand tremble a little as it took the stick and sighed; hopefully there would be no tantrum over this minor thing or he would have to punish Azazel again so soon.
The angel seemed to hesitate for a while longer and then he let out a mournful little sigh bending over against the ledge and inserting the stick in his rectum.
***
Zarak felt his cock stirring again when he saw the stick going in and out of the puckered hole and he stepped closer: “Be still my pet.”
He saw Azazel’s back tensing but the angel stayed unmoving still holding the piece of cleaning equipment inside of him in his hand.
“Good boy.” Zarak pried his pet’s fingers away on the handle and took it in his hand: “Put your hand on the edge of the pool and stay just like this.”
Azazel praised his hands on the cold tile and bowed his head further; now this was even more humiliating.
A strange little feeling that he should start to get used to all this already made him feel a little sick at stomach; even his own mind tried it’s best to make all this even more worse to bear.
He felt the stick inside him starting to move back and forth and swallowed to get the lump in his throat to go away; if only he would get through this without throwing up.
Zarak pumped his own phallus in time of the strokes of the stick and as he had just ejaculated only moments before it didn’t took him long to reach an orgasm.
He took a moment to catch his breath and then pulled the stick all the way out noticing the light trembling of his slave.
The stick was bloody and there was a trickle of the crimson liquid in the cleft between the angel’s buttocks. So he had used too much power after all.
Azazel stayed in the position panting from pain and pleasure as the stick left him and felt a disappointment setting in his heart as his need was left unfulfilled. His penis was hard and ready but Zarak didn’t touch or even seemed to notice it; the stick had brought him mainly pain but there was some weird kind of pleasure he had enjoyed till the brink of an orgasm but he was denied from that.
It was frustrating and hot tears gathered in his eyes; was it too much asked if he wanted only even one fucking orgasm with his brother?
He felt how his erection faded away and just after that Zarak pulled him up.
There was grim smile on his lips as blood trickled down his tights; now he was messy and bleeding again.
Zarak took a while to look at his slave and started finally to wash him with a sponge: “What a fine slave you are my pet.”
Azazel winced and closed his eyes; the gentle touch felt good but the words were so cold.
***
Zarak closed the bedroom door after his slave had stepped in and watched as the angel walked to his bare corner; he had stopped the bleeding and washed his pet once again so that now his skin shone in the dim light.
The other slave was cleaning the bathroom and he had to do little more work today before he could get some time to train his pet.
Azazel sat on the floor and shielded himself with his wings; he felt so cold. Shivers run along his spine and his skin felt hot to his own hands. But worst was the pain in his heart. It burned like fire and still froze his heart into the ice of the hopelessness.
The daemon lord watched his slave for a while and then turned to leave. “Be a good slave while I’m gone, my pet.” Without waiting for any kind of answer Zarak left the room closing the door after him.
The silence as his only companion Azazel closed his eyes and let his sadness out in silent sobs, tears leaking from his eyes like tiny rivers. He was tired, hurt and his heart wanted to give up. He had nothing left. He had lost his home, rank as a commander, his friends and now even his brother. This daemon wasn’t him. His brother was gone forever. Before he had had his hope that maybe there was something left from his brother under the cold demeanors but that too had been crushed.
Tired from his emotional outburst the angel curled on the floor shivering uncontrollably his breath coming in quick and short pants. The swans was said to die from grief if their mate died. Was it possible to the angels? Azazel hoped it would be. That way he could escape all this and keep his last surviving good memories of his brother untouched.
***
Zarak sighed annoyed. Once again he had to forget his pet’s training as the meeting with his generals had taken much longer that he had anticipated. The war wasn’t going well even though Azazel wasn’t leading the heavenly troops. If only he had the same talent in his army... He was a good strategist himself but he wasn’t on the battlefield. His generals lacked the talent to evaluate the situation and change plans according the new twist. Heaven’s constant victories were all possible due Azazel’s supreme skill to react to the changes of the battle’s rhythm. So why weren’t they winning after he had captured the famous commander?
The daemon stepped in his private quarters and walked straight to his bedroom. He was tired and he wanted to see was Azazel still in his corner. He had sensed something odd from his pet before leaving him. The daemon opened the door quietly and first he noticed that the room was dark.
In the light coming from hallway he could see his pet in the corner curled in fetal position. The angel seemed to be asleep so Zarak let him be walking to his bed to light a candle. He was tired after the long day and he had no reason to wake his pet as the training had to be left to some other time.
Zarak walked back to the door and closed it shedding his clothes on the way to the bed. He climbed between the sheets and smothered the candle. The darkness came back and with it the silence.
After few minutes the daemon started to fall asleep but something pulled him back from the slumber. He listened quietly and finally he was able to hear it, the quick and harsh but silent panting from the corner where his pet was sleeping.
With an annoyed grunt Zarak got up and lighted the candle again. With the candle in his hand the daemon walked to his pet and crouched to look the angel.
Azazel really was asleep but his breathing was not normal. Zarak petted his slave’s hair gently: “Wake up, my pet.”
The angel didn’t respond in any way and Zarak put his hand on Azazel’s cheek noticing right away the abnormal warmness of the white skin. “You’re burning… Since when did you angels have fever…?”
Azazel’s harsh breathing was even more worrying and the daemon tried to wake his pet once again. “Azazel? Wake up.” The daemon shook his slave gently but got no respond. “Azazel?”
Zarak had no choice but call the healer once again. “What a troublesome pet you are Azazel…” The daemon lifted the angel from the floor and carried him to the bed. After tugging him in he walked to the door and leaving it open left to the front door calling his guards.
“Call the healer immediately.”
Two guards looked at each other and then bowed their head. “Yes, my liege.” With that the other Guard left running towards the healer’s quarters.
“When the healer comes, guide him to my bedroom.” Zarak turned without waiting the answer and walked to the slaves’ room. “Wake up slaves!”
There was a short moment of chaos and then he had ten terrified angels kneeling in front of him.
One of them had dared to come closer that the others and bowed his head in submission. “My Lord?”
Zarak watched the angel for a moment noticing it was the one with clipped wings. So, this one was the leader of his slaves. “I want a cold bath ready immediately. Use any ice you can find. I also want wine and something to eat for me and the healer.”
The same slave nodded hurriedly. “Yes, my lord, right away.”
Zarak left the slaves and headed back to his bedroom where Azazel was still asleep. His breathing had changed even more short and haggard wheezing slightly. The daemon didn’t like that one bit. He had never seen these symptoms in an angel. Humans were the ones able to get a cold.
There was a slight knock on the door and it opened quietly. The healer stepped inside with a slave who hurriedly lighted the lamps in the room.
“You called my lord.” The healer walked closer and then bowed his head in respect.
Zarak turned to look at the old daemon and nodded. “Thank you for coming in the middle of your rest. I’m afraid my new pet is the most troublesome one we have in hell.” While speaking, Zarak motioned towards the angel on the bed. “Have you seen an angel with a cold?”
The healer raised his brow. “Cold?” He stepped beside the bed and listened the breathing of the angel. “This is no cold, my liege.”
The daemon lord looked at the angel a flicker of worry spreading to his mind. “What is it then?”
The healer put his hand on Azazel’s forehead. “He is dying, my lord. There is nothing I can do.”
***
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