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The Devil May Care

Part 13

For DuskCypher

By Draconicon

Dusk returned to the penthouse in a state resembling a fury. Not quite there yet, and not quite firm enough in anger to be a true fury, but definitely well on the way to it. The black cat could not believe how he had been manipulated to anger the way that he had been, and was doing everything that he could to pull his temper back where it belonged. Mercy had managed to press more buttons than he liked, and while he had been able to rile her up a bit there at the end, it wasn't enough compared to what she had been doing to him.

I have to find out more. Seraph. Seraph will know more.

He opened the door to the penthouse, somewhat limited in his abilities to bounce around the world still, and he blinked as he saw the bull staring helplessly at a growing pile of pink papers and brochures.

"What...the hell..."

Dusk had barely whispered, but it was still enough to get the fallen angel's attention. Seraph turned to face him, then gestured helplessly at the pile on the table.

"They started popping in while I was asleep. They haven't stopped."

"How many are there?"

"654."

FWOOSH.

"Correction. 655."

Dusk shook his head in disbelief at the mess that his dining room had become. The whole thing should have been done earlier in the day, or so he had hoped. When he'd left the penthouse, there'd only been a few of them.

Who wants my attention that badly? The cat groaned, rubbing his head. No, that can wait.

Pausing only to get himself a drink of water from the kitchen, Dusk sat down at the table and cleared himself some space. Over half of the pink papers were knocked to the floor, giving him a spot to set the cup. It almost immediately turned the scorch marks under it to a sort of ashy mud, but he ignored that, putting it out of his head as he focused on the bull, instead.

"Mercy."

"Yes...her."

Seraph sighed.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you more about her before, Master. In my defense, I had just been beaten to within an inch of my life."

"Excuse granted," Dusk said, shaking his head. He wasn't going to hold that over the poor guy's head, particularly as he must have been beaten in an attempt to keep that crazy bitch from doing something to him. "But I need more information."

"What do you already know, Master?"

"She's Mercy Christ, so, she's the daughter of God. Does that mean that she's as powerful as she sounds?"

Seraph nodded, and Dusk groaned, rubbing his forehead.

"Fuuuuuuuuck."

"She defeated your predecessor and cast him back to Hell with greater ease than anyone would have expected. She also managed to keep him from laying as much as a finger on her aura, let alone her."

"..." Dusk blinked, looking up again. "Back up a step. You mean that the old Satan couldn't even touch her aura?"

"That would be correct, master."

"Well...at least I'm a step up from him."

"Sir?"

"I was able to touch her aura. I felt it, pushed against it. She had to push me back at the end of it."

The bull blinked, almost like he was as shocked as Dusk had been throughout the day. In a moment of pettiness, the black cat smiled. At least the misery could be shared out a little bit instead of being stuck to just him.

Unfortunately, his smile faded when he remembered the rest of what Seraph had said. Just because he could touch Mercy's aura, that she had to push back against him, didn't mean that he was able to beat her. That aura protected her, and it was no different to one fighter being able to touch a knight's shield while another fighter couldn't do that much. If they couldn't get past the protection, that slight difference in skill meant nothing to the inevitable end.

And that obsession of hers...

He rubbed his forehead, trying to think through it, trying to keep his head on straight.

"Seraph. Has she always been like that?"

"Like what, Master?"

"Like...obsessive about people?"

"...Has she started to...look at you that way, Master?"

Dusk nodded, and the bull sighed, rubbing his forehead. The naked fallen angel leaned his head back, crossing his arms under his dripping nipples.

"I'm sorry, Master. I didn't think that she would lean that way for you, but...I suppose I should have."

"Explain."

"Mercy has always had a...strange attraction to mortals, and when it strikes, she becomes obsessed with them. There have been a number of them in history. Alexander the Great was one of them, and he managed to keep her interest for nearly a decade before she finally tired of him. She's been part of many small conflicts, and a few of the greater ones, throughout history."

"Please, please, please tell me that she wasn't involved in the second world war."

"No, no. That was not her doing; she hasn't been actively involved in anything on this level of existence since the Crusades."

"..."

"She had many of the leaders involved wrapped around her finger. And she took pleasure in that."

"She isn't acting very merciful, is she?"

"Those that have told her that haven't lasted very long, Master."

He imagined not. Considering just how forceful she had been when they had been talking, he imagined that most of the angels - those that were of much less rank than her - or the regular mortals would have been all but shattered when they faced her disappointment. And considering that she was the daughter of God, that meant that there was nobody that she was accountable to except for her father. And with him not really being that present...

Dusk rubbed his forehead. The idea of reaching out to them was getting stronger by the minute, but even with the devil's soul and all the power that it offered, the last thing that he wanted to do right then was start up something like that. Things were difficult enough just sliding up and down the line between Heaven and Hell. Turning that power struggle from a line to a triangle was probably more than reality could take.

The black cat grumbled to himself, shaking his head. What had been an end goal - getting all the power of the devil himself - had turned into the first step of a campaign that he had never meant to wage. He had the daughter of God after his body, he had the different demons of Hell all looking for him to either lead them or to manipulate him, and he had the personal problem of looking out for Armageddon if Mercy didn't get what she wanted.

This is not how it was supposed to go.

All he'd wanted was the chance to have fun, to have the power to ensure that he'd never have to worry about someone taking the things that he cared about from him, to have the power to take what he wanted from the world. Now, he had to use that power for...noble reasons.

Just the thought was enough to make him gag.

"Is there anything else that I need to know about her? Besides the fact that she's completely psychotic?"

"The fact that you can see that, Master, means that you're already a step ahead of her former lovers."

"But does that help me at all?"

"In stopping her? No, sir."

"Great..."

"I suppose, sir, that the best thing that you can do is to keep her entertained while finding out how to use your powers to survive. She might have the power of Christ, but as long as you do not engage her, she will have a difficult time pushing her will upon you."

"So, what, I run and hide?"

"Or retreat to Hell, sir."

"...Retreat. To Hell."

"She would not have the power to bring about destruction of that realm. That would require the permission of God, and he has pledged to leave Hell to its own devices, for that was the deal that was struck in the ancient past. If Lucifer had not had Hell to retreat to after his conflict with Mercy, he would have been destroyed."

There was a place that he could go, then, but it would mean giving up all of his plans for the world proper, and it would mean going along with one demon or another to actually claim the throne of Hell. It would mean giving someone what they wanted rather than seizing what he wished for. It was not exactly a good deal, and it was certainly not what he wished for himself.

Yet, Mercy was slowly pushing him into a corner. He had time to try and wiggle his way out, but the more that he heard, the more that he realized it was going to be far more difficult than he expected.

And there was still Armageddon at the back of his mind. The fact that she would so casually threaten that, even though she was Mercy Christ, told him that mortal lives mattered little in Heaven. The fact that she'd just threaten to bring all that down on this world to get to him, to end things, meant that he had to be ready for it even if he went along with what she said.

After all, I still want my whores...my slaves...my people...

For all that they had annoyed him, he'd grown fond of Seraph, Peter, Arnis, and Andrew. They were good to him, and he would be good to them. Leaving them behind to perish in holy fire was not taking care of them. That was abandoning them, and that was something that he refused to do.

He did not like being rendered helpless, and that was exactly what Mercy was doing with every step of this little game. She was taking away option after option for him to find a way out, and he was sick of it. Dusk slammed his fist down against the table, disturbing yet more of the papers that had come down while they were talking.

"Goddammit."

"I'd agree with you, sir."

"Hmmph."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm trying not to blow a hole in this building...She's so...infuriating."

"I'm sorry, sir. May I do anything to make things better?"

The temptation was there, and he was just about to tell Seraph to get on his knees and get to work -

FWOOSH!

"GODDAMMIT!"

The black cat snared the latest of the brochures as it popped into being from the dark hellfire that spawned it. He glared at it, his eyes narrowed in pure hate for a split second. The world started to twist and bend around his fingers, and he felt almost as if he might be able to burn the brochure right out of reality. Not merely destroy it, but render it as if it had never, ever, ever been. The world darkened...

And then he stopped, allowing it to come together again. He breathed slowly, taking a few seconds to bring himself back down from the pure fury that had threatened to take hold in that moment.

Seraph was staring at him, the bull's eyes wide. There was definite fear there, and Dusk wondered what that moment of fury had looked like from the outside.

"...I need a vacation," Dusk muttered.

"There are over six hundred invitations on the floor and one in your hand, sir."

"Hmmph. Business trips."

"All to the realms of Lust, as far as I can tell."

"To Lust, hmm?"

He supposed that would probably be a better vacation than most of the other realms. Pride would insist on him starting to act a bit more like a ruler, while the realms of Wrath would have various fights that would need to be done. Gluttony would have too much food for his taste, as well as other hungers, and Sloth...well, that was tempting, but he needed to get things done, not merely rest.

Lust was a possibility, and with the number of invitations, he was obviously wanted there more than he was in the other realms.

He looked at the brochure in his hand, and then glanced back at Seraph.

"Which number was this one?"

"Number 666, sir."

"Then that's where we're going."

"You're not going to read it first?"

"It's to the realm of Lust. In this case, I doubt that any of them are better than the others. And at least this one has some sort of symbolic importance."

That, and he didn't want to go rooting through all the other papers in the pile. If he had to examine them all based on their individual merits, they'd never get anywhere. Better to just have it done and go.

"Where's Andrew and Peter?" he asked.

"The stallion is wandering through the clubs, making himself at ease with his new life. Peter is gathering his possessions - those that are left - and moving them into the penthouse so that he can be near you at all times."

"Heh...at least we have some good guys around..."

He smiled to himself, remembering the shock on their faces when he revealed how powerful and potent the collars were. They had been completely shocked to realize that their lives had been rendered so different, that their pasts were no longer true. They were the only ones that remembered their past lives. Nobody else did.

Well, nobody on earth, at least. He didn't know how it worked with demons. Perhaps Apophis Diel would have had a different conflict with him, and perhaps they might have never fought at all. As he considered it, he realized that he didn't actually know how far his reality manipulations had gone.

Something to look into, when there's time...

Shaking his head, he looked at the invitation. It was to the Floating Springs, not that the name meant anything to him. Flicking it open, he saw that it was less a brochure of many pictures like he was used to, and more like a single spread of what to expect. Large hot springs, various incubi - all incubi, in this case, which made him feel more comfortable already - and all overseen by a great black-skinned orc that stood over the large picture, looking like a giant compared to his realm.

It was definitely interesting looking, even if it was a bit different than he expected. Still, Dusk was pretty sure that it would give them all a good time.

All.

Hmmm...perhaps not Andrew or Peter, he thought, tapping his chin. They are under my protection, but the ambient corruption of Hell might be a little bit much for them.

Click.

Dusk looked up from the brochure, not too surprised to see Arnis stepping into the penthouse. The Wrath demon was one of the few that the warding runes on the door would allow in. The bear looked at him, then at the brochures, and then down at the one in the cat's hand. The bear's lips turned up in a smirk.

"Heh, are we getting some time off?"

"We, no. Me and Seraph, yes," Dusk said.

"What? But boss -"

"Seraph tried to keep Mercy from getting into the apartment. You spent who knew how long drooling over her."

"...Yeah, but..."

"When you do your duty, you will be allowed the rewards that come with that devotion. Until then, you have more work to do."

"Dammit, boss, I've been doing pretty damn good besides that."

"Oh? And what have you been doing besides staring at her breasts and driving me around?"

"..."

"That's what I thought." Dusk shook his head, getting to his feet. "Seraph and I will be in Hell for a few hours, at least. Organize the other offers, but do not accept any of them. I will want to look through them myself."

"Goddammit...Fine. But I better get something from this, boss."

The black cat narrowed his eyes at the bear, and despite the height and muscle difference between them, Arnis was the one that backed down. The Wrath demon grumbled as he started picking up the different papers from the floor, shaking his head all the while.

He's going to be trouble later, Dusk thought. All those connections that Mercy is building on him. I'm going to have to break them, soon, or he might become her creature instead of mine.

But there was yet time for that. As long as they returned from Hell within about twenty-four hours, there should be time to cut all of them. As it was, if he cut them now before running, she would be after his other possessions.

One day. One day should be okay.

Gesturing for Seraph to come stand beside him, he opened the brochure, looked down at the seal at the very bottom of the pink parchment, and touched his finger to it. The tingling, heated feeling of Hell magic surged up his arm, through him and into the fallen angel. As it burned hotter and hotter, they were surrounded by a burst of hellfire, and then disappeared.

They reappeared, of all places, in an open-ceilinged lobby. The walls were carved in intricate spirals and whorls that imitated the waves of the sea, and the floor was covered in jade tiles. Above them, the reddened skies of Hell warred with dark storm clouds, and the air drifted by, stirred by gentle breezes that came from nowhere, carrying the smell of salt, warmth, and the occasional burst of musk.

There was no reception desk, but rather a door that seemed to lead further into the Floating Springs. Dusk cocked his head to the side as it opened, and he was slightly surprised to see the dark-skinned orc from the brochure stepping through. The man wore nothing but a jockstrap, one that was already half-tented with arousal, and the white fabric was stained and wet, looking as if he had already been taking a swim in his own hot springs. Certainly, it was enough to almost show the cock within.

Dusk shook his head, refusing to be tempted by something like that. He gestured for the orc to stop his approach.

"Get on all fours."

The orc blinked once, and Dusk felt the anger swell again. He had been dealing with too many people that simply did not understand how to obey orders. He had been fighting his temper all day, and he had been doing his best to keep it under control. He was done with that now. He was done.

"All fours, ass facing me. Now."

The room...shimmered, for lack of a better term. Everything seemed to go through an odd ripple, a haze filling it as if one was staring into the distance on a too-hot day. He could feel the way that reality stretched, how it seemed to tense up as he spoke.

And the orc? Well, he was stiffer than ever, his eyes wide, and his jockstrap stretched around a suddenly straining boner as he followed orders.

Lord Ornar Onsen could hardly believe that anyone would have spoken like that, but the power of those words, the echoes of raw strength in the air, was enough to shatter whatever hesitation he'd initially felt.

It wasn't just that the cat had an aura of dominance around him that outstripped any customer in the last century, though that was certainly part of it. No, the orc was weaker, desperate, horny beyond measure for something different, something new. His hole had been untouched by any but the other demons in the onsen for nearly a month now, and that was almost deadly to one of the incubi.

Even now, feeling the ripples of the cat's order in the air, his cock continued to throb, hardening, pressing against the front of his jockstrap with greater and greater firmness. There was something magical to that pleasure, something truly beyond words that he could not put his finger on.

Is this what the wolves felt when they were in his presence? Lord Onsen wondered, the orc reaching back to spread his cheeks and hold them open. Was it this overpowering for them, as well?

For it was overpowering, but in the best of ways. He could feel the pulsing power of the cat's aura, the strength of the devil pouring off of him, but there was something more than that. Something that went deeper, something that combined with it to give him authority beyond the mere scope of the throne of Hell. Instead, he pushed with his own will, and it was a great and powerful one, one that demanded obedience.

And that demand triggered all sorts of eager needs in his own body.

The orc's cock throbbed again, pushing against the increasingly fragile cloth of his jockstrap, and he shivered as he felt the staring eyes of the cat upon his pucker. He pulled at his cheeks again, parting them fully, showing off the loosened, experienced hole that was just waiting for the touch of a mortal.

The hunger in the pit of his stomach left the orc demon weak, weaker than he had ever been, and he growled deep in his throat. He needed the cat's cock, and he just hoped that the mortal didn't disappoint. Now that he had been riled up like this, he needed something substantial, something amazing.

He had his face down against the floor for nearly a minute before he felt the heat that he was waiting for. That thick cock slapped between his cheeks, and as soon as he felt the size of it, his jockstrap ripped.

As the fabric broke apart, his thick, dark cock hung down, the head purple in color and arousal, dripping with his own need to the tiled floor below. He felt the mortal's cock sliding down along his taint, then back up, hot-dogging between his muscular cheeks again and again. The feeling of that size, the reminder of the warmth of proper cock rather than the imitation that demonic shafts felt like, was enough to leave him huffing, his balls churning, his eagerness reaching a peak such that he could not compare to other times.

And then, only then, did the tip of that cock push into him.

Lord Onsen gasped, grunting as he dragged his tusks across the tiles, leaving long furrows as he did. His eyes clenched shut as he felt his pucker stretch, and he squeezed his ass cheeks all the tighter as the mortal fed that thick shaft right down his hole.

That's it...

That cock was almost magical, but it was the aura of power over him that really did it. Not just the power of the devil, but the power of a mortal that had everything to gain, and nothing to lose.

Dusk could not stop growling. Ever since the orc had exposed himself, the sight of that pucker had given him all the focus that he needed. All the frustration, all the rage, all the petty annoyance warped into the lustful urge to just hate-fuck something, and the orc was the perfect target to just take it.

He grabbed those leathery hips with his claws, not quite sinking them in, but getting a very good grip. He held tight as he started feeding his dick past that loosened pucker, enjoying the feeling of it parting before the tip of his shaft. It was just tight enough to give him pleasure, just experienced enough to tell him that he could go hard as he liked, and the orc would not complain. From the way that this demon growled, groaned, and grunted, it was clear that he wanted it hard.

Well, far be it from Dusk to disappoint.

He pulled back to the head and rammed back in, feeling the inner walls spreading before the tip of his cock, feeling the big man grunting and pushing back. Those muscular ass cheeks didn't jiggle, but they did bounce at the impact, pushed apart slightly to allow him in, and then pulling together again as soon as he was done.

Forward, back, forward, back, in, out, in, out. Each thrust made the orc moan that much more, and the throbbing dick that bounced up and down beneath the muscular male was a reminder of how much this bitch wanted his dick.

Dusk was losing himself into the power of Lust, allowing himself to fall further and further for the pleasure of it. He knew that he had Seraph watching him from behind, that the bull was getting a good view of his ass, his balls swinging forward with every thrust, but he felt no fear. The fallen angel was his toy, his belonging, his slave, and there was no way that there would ever be a betrayal there.

Instead, he focused on that black-hued ass, the way that the hole puckered every time that he pulled back, the way that it gave every time that he slammed forward. The rippling inner walls were driving him mad with lust, drawing on him to cum as soon as possible, but his pride demanded that he hold out. His pride demanded that he hold back.

Forward, back, forward, back. Each time he felt his balls slapping against that taint, against the orc's own sac, he felt another burst of lust. Another reminder that he was on top. Another reminder that he was the one that was running everything.

I am the power, here...

He growled deep in his throat, shifting his position, putting one foot on the orc's head and shoving him down into the ground, pinning him there, holding him underfoot. That got the big guy to clench even harder around his cock, to pull at his dick that much more. The orc moaned for him, and he pushed down that little bit more.

"Mmmph...ah..."

"You gonna cum, hmm?" he asked.

"NNnngh...I'm...close..."

"Then cum, you little bitch-slut. Cum and show your new master how it feels to crave cock so badly that you'll cum from a mortal fucking you."

That seemed to be the magic words for the orc. No sooner had Dusk said them than the big guy arched his back, his eyes going wide as he thrust his hips backwards. He fucked himself on the cat's cock almost faster than Dusk could have fucked him, and in short order, he was blowing his load all over the floor. Thick, black strings of corrupted seed, soaking the jade tiles right then and there.

Dusk grinned. The reminder of his power was almost as arousing as that tight, clenching hole around his cock.

Almost.

Let's see if Mercy could ever beat something like this...

He leaned forward, pulling his leg back as he wrapped his arms around the big guy's chest. He leaned in, growling in the orc's ear.

"You feel this in you?" he whispered, flexing his shaft.

"Yes..."

"You are mine..."

"Mmmph...You -"

"No. Mine."

And as his aura pulsed, the orc moaned, and Dusk made that one last thrust to push himself over the edge. It took him over, and he moaned as he hilted himself again, his balls drawing up as he came. The flood rushed down his cock, oozing through his shaft, dripping and squirting and blasting into the orc beneath him. He felt every pulsing shot through his cock, and he felt the tensing and shivers that went through the bigger male beneath him.

Squirt, pulse, squirt, pulse. The pleasure burned through him like a lightning bolt, fast and intense, and then it was done. He pulled out slowly, taking his time to really feel that pucker stretching one last time, watching as the hole itself pulled out a bit with his cock. He had made a mark there, marked that hole good. It dribbled with his seed, running down over the orc's balls, and then all the way to the floor.

"Like I said. You are mine," Dusk muttered. "As if I'd ever pass on an ass that exquisite."

In the aftermath of the explosive load that had filled his rump up, Ornar Onsen was adrift on the wings of pleasure. It had been...well, he wasn't sure how long since he had been fucked like that. Oh, yes, he had been satisfied before, but this had taken it past that mere word, far past that little, most inapt description for how he felt right then.

The fact that the mortal had been able to fuck so hard, had been able to keep control of him, was entirely too rare. He had never, ever had a magician come to the Floating Springs and keep their head on straight when they were dealing with even a single demon, let alone the hordes that followed those that fed them. This mortal might just have the strength to do the impossible.

The orc struggled to pull himself together, focusing on the compliment and pulling himself back to his body. A body with an exquisite ass, as the mortal had said.

He smiled slightly at that, pulling himself together. The power he had over his realm allowed him to manifest another jockstrap, one that was already tented with the anticipation of a fuck in the future. He pushed himself to his feet, turning to look down at the black cat and his companion. Though not anticipated, he imagined that it would be for the better that Dusk brought someone with him. It would keep the swarms of other lust demons curious and at bay, at least for a time.

And that meant that Ornar could have the cat to himself for a short time.

"Mr. von Doom. I am glad to have the opportunity to meet you in person," the orc said, bowing at the waist. "I am Lord Ornar Onsen, the master of Lust in this particular establishment. Thank you for accepting my invitation."

He wasn't altogether surprised to see a measure of shock on the cat's face. It was rather uncommon for a lord of Lust to be the one on the bottom, but he knew that there was pleasure to be found in all positions. Merely staying on top denied one a certain amount, just as staying on the bottom denied one other pleasures.

But he was not one to force others to give him what he wanted, nor one to drag it out. He gestured towards the door.

"Please, follow me. We have much to discuss."

The End

Summary: Dusk gets a bit of a download from Seraph regarding Mercy, then decides to take a vacation to a lustful place in Hell.

Tags: M/M, cat, bull, orc, nudity, demon, series, magic, domination, anal, arousal, jockstrap, orgasm, cum, creampie, loose, lactation, incubus, sex demon, modern fantasy,