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Ram Ass

Chapter 13

Elohael wasn't exactly what Daphne had expected in a renegade angel, though she couldn't be certain what she'd expected in the first place. He was tall, handsome, square-jawed and stern, with a constantly dour expression that made her feel uneasy in his presence. He was also huge, much taller than Artesda, very toned and muscular and strong. He was not wearing the standard white and gold, open-backed armor of a son of Araton but was instead wearing a peasant's simple pants and shirt - both torn - with a fur vest over the shirt, both open to reveal his sculpted chest. His wings had been shorn, perhaps to help him better hide among mortals, and apart from the gentle, subtle glowing his unearthly white fur likely did in the moonlight, he did indeed have all the appearance of a rather muscular and tall farmer.

As Daphne and Storm followed Elohael inside to speak with him privately, Artesda waited outside with Izra under the pretense of guarding the cave entrance. In reality, he was disgusted by the very existence of Storm's father, who had dared to turn his back on Heaven and become a Fallen. Yet because Elohael was clearly stronger than he, Artesda didn't bother trying to "fulfill his duty to Heaven" by killing him.

Elohael's cave, by the looks of it, had been lived in a very long time. There was an assortment of wooden furniture: shelves, tables, chairs, and even a bed of furs. A fire enclosed by a circle of stones blazed in the center of the cavern, and near the flames sat an empty pot and ladle. Books were everywhere, and Daphne wasn't surprised: what else did the rebel have to do?

Elohael looked very young, naturally, but like Storm, his pale eyes were tired and old, peering with an elder's weariness from the wild wreath of his white mane. He listened calmly to Daphne's escape plan, and when she had finished speaking, he folded his arms and said simply, "No."

Daphne's lips parted in surprise. "No?"

"No," Elohael repeated calmly.

"So I came all this way for nothing?" Daphne sighed miserably. She glanced at Storm, who had taken a seat on one of the wooden chairs and was calmly inspecting her arrows one by one: she didn't even seem to care! Perhaps she would leave Daphne now and go her own way. She seemed indifferent about all of it, as if she had only come along because Daphne had badgered her.

"Do you know why I became a Fallen, filly?" Elohael said, peering down at Daphne with his intense gray eyes.

Daphne hated the condescending tone in the angel's voice, and as she listened to him speak, it occurred to her that Artesda had been using the same tone all along. It was a tone that said mortals were foolish and small, and that angels had no time for them.

"Obviously, I don't," Daphne returned irritably. "Should I care?"

"I was asked to slay our fallen prince, Alexander the Mighty," Elohael went on, ignoring Daphne's tone. "I was the best warrior after him, the strongest. It was believed only I could slay him."

"Good for you?" Daphne answered, not seeing the point.

"Then I met Alexander the Mighty," went on Elohael. "We battled long days and long nights, leaving a trail of blood across all of Oltru, until eventually, he subdued me. I knelt before him with a blade at my chin, and I thought my life was forfeit. Instead, Alexander pulled me to my feet, welcomed me into his home, and spoke long with me. I listened to him in humility, and I realized the error of my ways, that Heaven was a farce, and that I was Araton's mindless slave. Only a few angels know that Alexander lives and that the hunt for him continues. Heavenly Father wished to keep his rebellion a secret, that he might - how do the mortals say it? Save face. They all know, however, that I failed in my duty to kill Alexander. That I failed on purpose."

"Okay?" prompted Daphne, though she was secretly amazed to realize Elohael was actually thousands of years old. She remembered the little grave they had passed when approaching the cave, and it occurred to her that the grave belonged to Storm's mother, who Elohael and Storm had both outlived. Pity for them lifted in her heart, though neither of them seemed to take pity on her. They both had the same pale, indifferent eyes. It would have chilled Daphne if she weren't so desperate for help.

"The royal bloodline of Aramora is also sacred to Araton," Elohael continued. "He has been known to closely monitor it, to strike down all who threaten it. Angels guard the halls of Aramora. Were I to get involved with you and your petty schemes, it would bring attention to me. I would be slain without hesitation. So tell me," he narrowed cold eyes on Daphne, "why should I risk my life for you? Who are you to me?"

Daphne didn't immediately answer because she had no answer: she was no one. She was just someone who wanted to be free, and now that she knew freedom was possible, that others had attained it before, she was willing to do anything and everything to secure it. Suddenly fed up, she said as much to Elohael before adding, "And being a fugitive hiding from Araton's wrath, I thought you'd be the first beast to understand that!"

Elohael didn't blink in the face of Daphne's disgust and anger. "Well said," he answered sincerely, surprising Daphne.

"I wish I had something to offer you," Daphne said, dismally glancing around the cave. "I know you wouldn't value gold - not that I have any regardless. And you can feed yourself proper . . ." she added, feeling the berries in the pocket of her robes. She stared at the ground, and the wretched thought crossed her mind that maybe Elohael would be willing to sleep with her in exchange for his help. She hated the idea of giving up her virginity for a bargain, and the very thought left a nasty taste in her mouth. But before she could speak, Storm spoke up first.

"I brought them here that you might slay the angel, Father," Storm said, and Daphne's head snapped up in disbelief.

"Storm!" Daphne accused.

Storm looked at Daphne unapologetically, then her cold, flat eyes turned back to Elohael, who was looking at her with calm interest. "The angel stands in our way. He insists on taking Daphne to Araton, and I don't believe his mind can be changed. You should slay him immediately. The demon as well. Then Daphne and I will be on our way to Aramora. We will not disturb you further."

Daphne's mouth fell open. "No!" she protested at once, her wide eyes snapping on Elohael. She took a halting step forward, hooves clomping the stone floor. "Please -- Don't hurt them! Leave them alone!"

Elohael looked down at Daphne with calm amusement twinkling in his pale eyes. "So the Purest One has gained some affinity for her jailer. How sweet," he said with a dripping sarcasm that angered Daphne. He lifted his eyes and looked past Daphne toward the mouth of the cave. Artesda and Izra were just outside, standing in the sunlight. Artesda's paw was on his sword hilt, and he was glancing around for signs of danger. Izra stood beside him, hunched, ears down, and weary in the heat. One small, defeated black wing curled from the open back of Izra's armor. Elohael's eyes hooded with quiet hunger when he looked at Izra's tight muscular back, and Daphne's heart skipped a frightened beat. She knew what Elohael would say before he said it, "Convince the ram to lay with me, and I will spare the angel." He looked down at Daphne. "I will _prevent_Artesda from stopping your plans. I will not kill him."

Daphne hesitated, knowing Izra could never be persuaded to do such a thing. "And if I can't convince him?" she asked miserably.

Again, Elohael didn't blink. "Then I will not help you, Purest One."

Daphne bit her lip.

***

Standing there in the heat with layers of wool coating his muscles, Izra wished dismally that he could shave himself naked. He'd been away from home so long, it had been ages since he'd been sheared. He also wished he could knock Artesda unconscious, who was pacing and nervous and wouldn't be still -- and so how shocked was Izra when Storm marched from the cave and did just that. Izra watched with his mouth open as Storm took a rock to the back of Artesda's head. The angel went down on his face like a sack of potatoes, though - thankfully - he was still breathing, if not splattered in blood.

Mouth still open, Izra looked up to find Daphne and Storm standing there. Storm, calm as she was, looked almost menacing as she held the bloody rock at her side. Her pale eyes were as brilliant with hate as if she wished to strike Izra next, and Izra would have fully anticipated a blow if Daphne hadn't looked so bumbling and nervous and on the verge of some wild confession.

"What is going on?" Izra demanded.

Daphne twisted her fingers. "Izra . . . I have a favor to ask you."

Izra immediately felt his soul crumbling. He stiffened as if against a blow. "Somehow, this favor involves me sucking someone's dick, doesn't it?"

"Well - yes," Daphne wretchedly admitted.

Izra scowled. "What do I look like to you? Your personal whore? How dare you! I can't believe you could be this selfish --"

"If you don't do it, Elohael will kill you!" Daphne blurted miserably, and Izra fell silent. "He'll kill you and he'll kill Artesda too!"

"Of course, he will," Izra said tiredly and his eyes dropped to the ground. How did he get himself into this mess? From proud warrior to sex slave? He wanted to die. When he looked up again, Daphne was watching him apologetically, though Storm was as cold and threatening as before.

"Elohael doesn't care about helping me or changing Artesda's mind," Daphne said and shrugged unhappily. "And why should he? He only cares about surviving. Izra, I don't want him to hurt you! This is the only chance either of us has to be free. If you do this," she gently coaxed, "then we can both walk away from this. You can just go home."

"And while I'm being raped, you will escape with Storm?" Izra bitterly observed.

"Take the offer, demon!" snapped Storm. She let the rock fall in a floom of dust to the ground, and at the same time, pulled a knife. Izra tensed, initially believing she was silently threatening to stab him, but he remembered the rope on his wrists and realized she was simply waiting to cut him free.

"Al . . . alright," Izra muttered to the ground.

Storm came to Izra, and after towering behind him, roughly cut his paws free and shoved him in the back. "Get going," she hissed.

Izra glared over his shoulder at Storm as he staggered toward the cave. When he looked forward again, he found himself face to face with Daphne. She was smiling at him, and he couldn't help but smile back. In that moment, she seemed so young and innocent. He remembered watching as her father led her to the abbey, but once she stepped into the building's magical protection, he was too late to save her. How deeply he had regretted being unable to protect her.

"I've never had a friend before," Daphne confessed, her lips still curled in a smile. "All the boys back at Golcrest just wanted to bed me. And the girls, they were jealous of me." Her eyes filled with sudden sadness. "I was always alone."

"I've never had a friend before either," Izra realized, peering past Daphne in sad thought. He was startled when Daphne suddenly hugged his middle tight, nestling her golden mane under his chin. He smiled and slowly closed her in his arms, squeezing her so playfully tight in the muscular wall that she squealed out giggles. Izra laughed as well, and they hugged for some time, with Storm watching in quiet disapproval. Then Izra kissed Daphne on the forehead and moved past her toward the cave. He tried desperately not to look back but gave in. When he glanced over his shoulder, Daphne was watching him with a sort of sad longing. Storm put her paw on Daphne's shoulder, silently urging her to come along, and the two of them turned away, starting off into the trees - and leaving Artesda bloody and unconscious on the ground.

Izra took a sad breath and entered the cave, miserably resigned to his fate. The place was furnished and more brightly lit than he had anticipated, as a fire was roaring in the center. He miserably glanced around and halted in shock when his eyes fell on the stallion who waited for him on the bed.

The stallion was sitting upright on the edge of the bed and was far larger than Artesda, a hulking brute with broad shoulders and bulging arms, a thick neck and slanted, serious eyes. He had taken off his shirt and was undoing the rope-belt on his pants. His pants sagged open, allowing his great erection to pry itself free and stand upright, hungry and pink and pulsing with veins.

When Izra just stood there unable to move, the stallion said in a surprisingly soothing voice, "Take off your armor and come to me."

Izra obeyed, keeping his eyes down as he undid his buckles. He felt wretched when his armor finally slipped off, leaving him in nothing but his red panties. He stood there, cupping his sack and wishing he was dead, but when he saw the stallion's baffled expression, he almost laughed.

"What is that red garment?" the stallion wondered in amazement. He frowned. "Did I not ask you to come to me? I will not harm you."

Izra reluctantly crossed the space between them, stopping before the stallion, who gently pried his paws away and stared in bafflement as his red panties. Elohael's frown deepened, and Izra bit his lip when the stallion cupped his sack in one big paw and squeezed. He massaged Izra through the fabric, frowning at his bulge with dark concentration as it slowly lengthened and hardened from the gentle fondling. Izra gave a soft cry when his panties tightened from the sudden swell of his erection.

Elohael tugged the panties down a little, just enough that Izra's swollen brown penis pushed halfway out. "Hmm," the angel said with satisfaction. "A fat little sheep cock. The field striders do not wear undergarments. I thought the sheep did not either. Turn around," he whispered, his slanted eyes burning desire.

Izra's heart skipped a beat, but he did as told yet again, turning his back to the hulking stallion. He gasped when he felt Elohael tug his panties up, forcing them to sink between his buttocks. Elohael squeezed one of his hard cheeks in silent approval, pushing his fingers with fascination through the soft wool. Then he gently pulled the panties down around Izra's hard thighs, and Izra's eyes widened in shock when he felt the angel's hot tongue plunge the tight knot of his anus. Izra squeezed his anus up on reflex, which only seemed to make Elohael ravenous. The angel pushed his face between Izra's buttocks with determined hunger, grunting as he moved his head up and down, straining with all his eager might to get his tongue deeper, further.

Izra shivered at the squirming, wet intrusion and felt himself slumping, defeated by the pleasure. His small, fat penis swelled harder, and in response, the angel fumbled for it and stroked it in his large fist, fondling Izra even as he tasted him.

Izra's eyes widened and his rippling belly tensed as his little penis heaved and strained in the angel's stroking paw. He knew was on the verge of a release and hated himself for it. But the angel's tongue was so intense.

Sensing Izra was close to climaxing, the angel sank his face deeper between Izra's buttocks, licking him so wildly, saliva flowed in glossy streams down Izra's thighs. He tugged gently on Izra's penis, as if coaxing it to squirt, all the while licking and slurping his anus with wet hunger, until Izra - unable to take it much longer - frowned and cried out, his helpless little penis shooting in the angel's fingers.

Elohael released Izra, pulling his face away and licking his lips. His finger prodded Izra's backside experimentally, and Izra heard him mutter, "I suppose it is wet enough." He gave Izra's backside a soft slap. "Get on your knees, pretty boy. Suck my cock."

Izra swallowed hard. Only minutes before, he had been wishing for death. Now - after being licked and fondled so exquisitely - he found himself wanting to suck the angel's cock, and he hated himself for it. He turned around and got down on his knees between the angel's strong thighs, which were so muscular and large, they seemed to consume him. When he looked up, Elohael was looking down at him with slanted eyes that were fierce and penetrating. His huge pink erection was upright in Izra's face, thick and strong with veins and even dripping pre-fluids. The hot smell of it hit Izra like a blast and sent a chill of delight through him.

Elohael stroked Izra's woolly mane with the same quiet fascination as he whispered again, "Suck my cock." Then his big paws closed on Izra's horns and pulled, gently guiding his mouth over the huge erection and muffling his cries of surprise.

Izra choked as the salty phallus filled his mouth, stretching his lips taunt, pushing his cheeks up in his eyes. And as he knelt there, frozen with shock, it suddenly occurred to him that this monstrous thing was going to ram inside his virgin ass in only a few minutes. In that moment, he wished dismally that he had allowed Artesda to take his virginity, but he could never have brought himself to sleep with someone who had personally wronged him. Elohael, meanwhile, had done him no personal wrong, despite the fact that he had likely slain many children of Darahi during the war.

"Suck me with your pretty mouth," Elohael whispered soothingly and stroked Izra's mane with soft eyes. "Get my cock nice and wet so I can fuck you to baaing."

Izra knew he would have blushed had his black fur allowed it. He felt the scalp underneath getting hot nonetheless, and suddenly wishing to please Elohael, he sucked him feebly and cautiously at first - then with a wet abandon that made the angel moan.

"Oh . . ." Elohael frowned against the pleasure and closed his eyes, even grimacing in his strain not to climax. "Oh . . . you are . . . surprisingly good at this."

Izra wanted to laugh, suddenly quite proud of his ability to bring such a mighty angel to his knees. Elohael's sack was enormous, and Izra - sucking more wildly than ever - cupped it in both paws and massaged it. Doing so practically made Elohael beside himself with moaning.

"Mmpfh . . . careful, pretty sheep," Elohael whispered. "Or do you want me to spill my seed down your throat?"

Izra hadn't even considered that, so eager was he in this newfound pleasure, and he pulled his mouth away with sudden alarm. He hadn't enjoyed swallowing with Artesda or the donkeys and he doubted he would enjoy swallowing with Elohael. Even if he _was_goddamned beautiful.

Elohael chuckled with a heave of his rippling belly, his suffering penis twitching and flushing red from the strain. To Izra's surprise, he leaned down and kissed him warm on the mouth. Then he pulled back again, stroking Izra's mane. "Up here on the bed with me," he said softly. "I would have your backside enclose me."

Izra swallowed hard: Elohael was so matter-o-fact about fucking him! He crawled up on the bed, and feeling foolish, got on paws and knees and tensely waited. Elohael hugged him from behind, closing him in the warm, hard wall of his muscly arms. Izra felt consumed by the angel's great body, pressed against him as it was, hot and hard and shuddering slightly with anticipation. In that moment, Izra wondered vaguely how long it had been since Elohael had lain with someone -- then Elohael hunched his back, and Izra gasped when he felt the slow intrusion of the angel's hard phallus sinking between his buttocks.

Izra's thighs trembled as he was filled, his muscles shuddered, and he felt his penis stand upright again, even as the discomfort pinched him. He made a soft, sobbing cry that was somewhere between pain and pleasure, and then Elohael was humping him slowly, his muscular back flexing to drive him in, as he hugged Izra tight like a prized possession he would never release.

Elohael's soft grunts became background noise in Izra's ear as he, dazed with shock, rocked beneath the steady thrust of the angel's hips. Before long, he did indeed find himself baaing. It was soft at first, then louder the deeper Elohael plunged, until Izra's panting mouth was constantly open in a baffled cry. Elohael knocked Izra's trembling thighs wider apart with his knee and sighed when Izra's buttocks were forced to press harder, tighter around his slowly plunging shaft.

"You are . . . exceptionally tight," Elohael grunted through his teeth, his back slowly hunching. "Mmpfh. A virgin?"

"Y-Yes," Izra stammered sheepishly. He was touched by the shock in Elohael's voice when he whispered, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Izra didn't have time to answer. He looked up and went rigid to see Artesda standing in the middle of the cavern, watching them in a cold fury. Blood was running down the angel's face from Storm's blow, and he looked so terrifying in that moment, Izra caught his breath in horror.

"So. Your jailer has awoken," muttered Elohael, who calmly pulled his erection free, forcing Izra to wince from the pinch of it.

Izra sank down on his side, leaning on his elbow as he lay on the bed. "Don't hurt him!" he begged Elohael hoarsely.

"For you, I will try to avoid it," Elohael promised - with such a tenderness that Izra blinked in surprise.

Hearing the affection between the two, Artesda violently wrenched his golden sword from its scabbard, and in a sudden rage, lunged at the bed with it lifted. Elohael was quick. He shot to his feet and casually caught Artesda by the wrist, halting the swing of his blade. They glared at each other a beat, then Elohael shoved Artesda back, twisting his wrist so that he cried out and dropped the weapon.

Artesda, baffled by such an easy defeat, took a staggering step back. He clutched at his injured wrist in shock, watching with furious golden eyes as Elohael calmly collected his sword from the ground.

"So you are Araton's newest champion," Elohael said, examining the sword. He gave it a few experimental swings before looking at Artesda again. "I understand your position. I was you once."

Panting and pained, Artesda nonetheless defiantly sneered, "You were never like me, traitor!" He looked with fury at Izra, as if silently calling him a traitor as well, and Izra miserably dropped his eyes.

"No, I was," said Elohael calmly. "When Alexander fled and turned his back on Heaven --"

"Curb your tongue! You speak lies!" Artesda practically screamed. "Alexander never turned his back!"

"I speak the truth," replied Elohael calmly. "When Alexander turned his back, Araton conceived me. He molded me to be the best of his sons, then sent me to hunt down and slaughter our Fallen brother."

"And you turned your back on your duty," Artesda sneered. "Now you wallow in smelly caves," he said, glancing around, "and you fuck demons." He glared at Izra.

Suddenly fed up, Izra sat bolt upright. "I am not a demon!" he hurled. "I also don't belong to you, Artesda! I don't love you!" The last words were practically roared, and Izra bit his lip guiltily. "I don't love you," he added miserably, softly. "Can't you understand that?"

Artesda's eyes flickered sadness, but they quickly turned to anger again, and without warning, he lunged at Elohael with a roar. Izra tensed, convinced Elohael was going to run Artesda through with the sword. And perhaps that was exactly what Artesda wanted.

Elohael calmly stood there instead, and as Artesda closed in, brought the sword hilt down on his head, swiftly knocking him unconscious. Izra winced miserably as Artesda collapsed to the floor in a heap.

"I will bind him," Elohael said, his back to Izra. "And I will give you one chance to speak reason to him. If he does not listen to you, I will be forced to kill him." He looked at Izra apologetically as he said, "I can not risk others discovering me."

Izra nodded dismally. He sat on the edge of the bed and wearily rubbed his face. When he looked up again, Elohael had taken a knee and was indeed binding Artesda, paw and hoof, with a rope. Artesda lay there, slack face handsome, the flaps of his armored skirt falling back to reveal his penis as it lay soft against his hard thigh.

Watching as Artesda was bound, it suddenly occurred to Izra that he was sick of the endless struggle. He wanted out. He was tired of fighting Araton and his brainwashed, confused sons. He was tired of putting himself in danger for a lost cause. He was tired._Why were his parents so intent on meddling in Oltru's affairs? Most of the horses didn't even _want to be free of Araton's reign. Quite frankly, it was none of Vaine's business.

Izra felt a paw rub his shoulder and looked up only to meet Elohael's concerned gray eyes. The hulking stallion had taken a seat on the bed beside him. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, anxiously. "I am sorry. He gave me little choice."

Izra's lips curled in a knowing half-smile. "If I'd said no to this, would you really have killed me?"

"No," Elohael answered with calm honesty.

So Elohael had lied to Daphne - or Daphne had lied to Izra, Izra realized irritably. Poor Artesda, he thought, looking at the angel who lay limp on the floor. Either way, Artesda's life as a son of Araton was over now. With Daphne long out of his reach, how could he return to Heaven and face his father without expecting a swift execution?

"Do you pity him?" Elohael asked quietly.

Izra glanced up and was surprised to see the dark jealousy flickering in Elohael's pale eyes. "A little," Izra admitted.

Elohael pinched Izra's chin and frowned at his lips. "Come," he whispered, "I will make you forget he even exists."

Izra melted when Elohael kissed him warm on the mouth, and trailing careful kisses down to his neck, he reached down and slowly fondled Izra to standing.

Izra caught Elohael's mouth to his and kissed him back ardently, eagerly. The big angel pulled Izra down on top of him, and closing him in his burly arms, he hunched his back, pushing his erection up and in. Izra's lips parted and his eyes widened as he was filled a second time. He looked down at Elohael, whose eyes were intense and determined as he pushed deep inside, and with a spellbound frown, he kissed Elohael slowly on the lips, shivering helplessly as his new lover thrust deep inside.