Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Asmodeus quickens his thrusts, and I mimic him, holding Iblis’ head as I fuck his mouth. Mo bends, licking the trickling blood from Iblis’ back, and stiffens as he releases.
Mo sneers and fingers the cum dripping from Iblis’ ass. “Keep it in there, whore. Clinch that asshole. I’ve got plans for this cum.”
Hearing my brother degrade Iblis is all I need to push me over the edge. I slap the back of his head, holding him firm as I unload down his throat.
Iblis gags as I drag him off my cock. Face red, eyes shedding hot as fuck tears, and his mouth overflowing with cum and spit.
“You did well. Such a good boy.” I smear the fluids over his face. “Such a perfect whore.”
Kneeling, I grip the back of his head and slam my lips to his, tasting him, drinking him in, wanting to meld my body with him in every holy and unholy way. Iblis parts his lips, giving me access as he uses his tongue to shove my cum and his spit back and forth from our mouths.
“You done?” Asmodeus asks. “He’s got a mess to clean up.”
Ignoring Mo, I focus on Iblis. “You okay?”
“Yes,” Iblis whispers.
Asmodeus leans over and grabs Iblis by the nape of his neck. “Push it out.”
Right on cue, my dick stiffens as I get a perfect view of Asmodeus’ cum dripping out of Iblis’ asshole. “Fuck, glad you’re okay. I love seeing you push that fresh load out of your ass. Why are cream pies so damn hot?”
Asmodeus kneels behind Iblis. “It’s not the cream pie that’s hot. It’s watching what he does after.” Once the last drop of cum leaks from Iblis’ ass, he turns and faces the cum on the floor. “Lap it up like a good little bitch.”
Iblis bends, and his silver ball piercing shimmers in the moonlight as his pink tongue licks.
Asmodeus sneers, his cock rising as he watches. He lifts his foot and places it on the back of Iblis’ head, holding his face in the mess on the floor. “That’s it. Lick it all up. You think God is enjoying the show? How his devoted servant is nothing but my cum eating whore? Tell me, Iblis, when I’m fucking your ass, do you pray to the heavens for mercy, or are you swearing allegiance to hell for me to tear your tight little hole apart?”
Asmodeus doesn’t wait for Iblis to respond. He holds his foot in place and turns his body, pushing his dick back into Iblis’ ass. Iblis jerks forward as Asmodeus impales him. “It’s still nice and wet, Iblis. Your pretty asshole is begging to be used again.”
“Please,” Iblis pleads.
“Tell me what I want to hear, Iblis. Say it, and I’ll fill your fuck hole again.”
With his face covered in spit and spunk, Iblis opens his mouth and recites, “Dear Lord, I do not know what will happen to me today. I only know that nothing will happen that was not foreseen by you and directed to my greater good for all eternity. I adore your holy and unfathomable plans and submit to them with all my heart for love of you, the Pope, and the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Amen.”
“That’s right, bitch. God knows best. He made you my whore, gifted you to me to use like a dirty cum rag. Your penance is to take what I give you, say thank you, and beg for more.”
Chapter Six
IBLIS
The whip slices through the air before it makes contact with my skin. The pain is unimaginable as it opens wounds present yet not healed. Shame floods my mind, quickly dissipated by another lash to my back. I don’t count how many I’ve endured in the last thirty minutes. I understand that I’m not satisfied with my penance.
Abaddon tried to follow me after, but I wouldn’t allow it. It’s harder being around him than Asmodeus. Mo gives me what I need. I know he does it as a perverse way of garnering his revenge, but Abaddon only takes part because he knows it’s what I need. I guess what Abaddon does is crueler because he strips me bare and makes me feel. Abaddon’s tenderness provides glimmers of light in my perpetual hell, and that hurts more than any violence and humiliation I’ll ever experience.
Another crack of the whip. I torture my flesh, hoping to heal the hollow ache in my broken heart.
“Fuck, Iblis.”
I close my eyes and hit myself again and again, relishing the pain on my skin that numbs the pain in my soul. Blood trickles down my back, but I don’t stop. I keep going, wanting that sensation where I’m satisfied I’ve suffered enough. But it never comes.
“I said stop!” Abaddon shouts, gripping my wrist to hold the whip still before it lacerates my skin again. “Jesus fucking Christ, Iblis.”