Kinktober2023 Day 26: Knife Play
Servant of God
for Kinktober2023 by Annika Sage Ellis
contains: CNC, role-play, light bondage, masturbation, oral sex/fellatio, bratting, dom/sub, cis/trans, angel/demon
dysphoria warning: Pride is a trans man whose genitals are described with the following terms: folds, clit, cunt, hole. Please use discretion if these words will trigger any dysphoria.
Pride sat motionless in his cell, rope-bound wrists in his lap. Heaven couldn’t be bothered to give him anything larger than a shoebox. All he had room to do was sit, stand, and lie curled up on his side. They didn’t even bother to give him clothes. So much for being the domain of love and forgiveness—but he learned about that particular contradiction long ago.
The door opened suddenly. His angelic guard entered, tall and serious-faced. He’d traded out the bulky armor for the standard angel bedsheet dress, pure white and blending into his gigantic wings.
“What is it this time?” Pride droned. “Sermon or confessional?”
“Smiting you,” the angel said.
He went rigid. “What?”
“I’ve been given orders to smite you, as is my duty.”
“Your duty as what? The angel of murder?”
“Justice, actually.” He drew his sword, golden flames licking up the edge of the long, silver blade.
Pride set his jaw. He shifted into a more active seated position, tail swishing around his ankles. If he was going down today, he would go down fighting. He would tear this so-called Justice a new halo, make sure he’d never forget the demon that dared challenge him alone.
“However,” Justice continued, fire throwing stark shadows across the cell, “I am permitted to offer you a second option.”
“Let me guess,” Pride sneered. “Repent?”
“A test of your purpose. If you can prove your usefulness to Heaven, you’ll be spared.”
“Yeah, sure, I know how this works. You’re going to make me do some stupid errand for you and kill me anyway. I’m not doing Heaven’s dirty work for free.”
Justice twitched his lips into a smile, amused. Pride wanted to claw it off, furious at having to sit at his feet. If only he were able to transform here, if only he was at full power, that smug look would be nothing but a smudge of golden ichor beneath his claws.
But it was too late for that. Pride played too close to the fire, and here he was getting burned.
“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with,” he spat.
“No,” Justice said.
“I already told you, I’m not doing your stupid fucking—”
Pride cut himself off as the tip of the flaming sword tapped his chin. The fire didn’t burn his flesh, but yellow-orange light flickered before his eyes. Justice tilted his head up. The tip of the blade poked his throat, a single twitch away from breaking skin.
"You will,” Justice told him. “In a show of good faith, I’ll give you a test you can’t possibly fail.”
The sword made a path, down the side of his neck, over his shoulder, arm, and to his thigh. He tapped with the flat of the blade, bidding him to spread his legs. Pride had half a mind to spit in his face, but with no choice and a sword so close, he shuffled his knees apart. Justice nodded, apparently satisfied, and tapped his bound hands.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered.
Pride blinked. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Of course not. How better to prove yourself to me than by taking orders?”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Justice wanted him to jerk off in front of him to prove his service to Heaven. How did that prove anything? This was a joke—a trap, to get him to do something foolish before he died, so he and all of Heaven could stroke their ridiculous ego dicks.
“Watch porn on your own time buddy,” Pride said, lifting his bound wrists over his head for good measure. “I don’t have to do a thing you fucking say.”
“True,” Justice conceded. “You don’t have to, but—”
The flames on his sword went out, and Pride had just enough time to wonder what he was doing when he felt the cold press of steel against his folds. Flat end against his cunt, Justice rubbed the cold metal against him, as if it were a toy he could grind on.
“If you don’t,” he continued, “I’ll have to do it for you.”
Pride flinched away from the tip of the blade as it grazed his outer lips, mind racing. This wasn’t an option—he would be getting off one way or the other. Was it better for Justice to do it, to be victim to wherever he decided to put that sword, or to have the slightest bit of control?
“Fine,” he growled, scooting back across the floor. “You want touching? Here you go.”
Justice was polite enough to move his sword away while Pride got situated, wrestling his bound hands into a position that would let him reach his clit. When he found a good position, he stared up at Justice and dared him to watch, the urge to defy burning strong in his ichor, even while he followed the orders he was given.
Pride guided his fingers into position. He pressed against his clit firmly, and grunted. Dry, he rubbed it in circles, taking a tiny bit of solace in the warm feeling tingling at the base of his spine. The edge of the sword trailed up his body, gently scraping over his side. It made him shiver.
“Is this doing anything for you, fly boy?” Pride spat, narrowing his eyes.
“It’s not for me,” Justice replied. But his feathers puffed, and his gaze trailed everywhere he set his sword. Dark brown irises followed the tip of the blade—or vice versa. Pride felt it as plainly as any weapon.
“Liar.”
“You accuse me of sin?” The sword found his chin again, and this time he grinned up the length of the blade.
“I accuse you of being in f-fucking denial.” Pride was finally able to scoop some wetness out of his cunt and onto his clit, rubbing himself in smoother circles. He panted a little, throat jumping around the tip of the sword. “You really expect me to believe your holy bosses told you to come down here and make me come?”
Justice adjusted his grip, a hairline fracture showing through his cool composure. “You have no idea how Heaven functions.”
“I know enough to know you’re full of shit.”
The sword dug into his neck, almost breaking skin. “Watch your mouth.”
Pride laughed, speeding up. This was fun now. He scraped his bottom lip with his teeth, mashing his clit in every direction. Justice fumed from the indignity of his implication, frown drilling into his face as sharp as his sword. Ignoring his rage, Pride gasped a moan, rolling his hips into his hand. Above him, Justice remained stone-faced, scraping the blade up the underside of his chin to lift his head higher. But in his peripheral vision, Pride saw what he was hiding—the tent in his dress, from a cock long denied.
It was all too convenient. Pride not being allowed to wear clothes, Justice forcing him through this trial of obedience, the order he chose to give. Heaven would never give him carte blanche to give Pride whatever trial he wanted. Justice did this himself—for himself.
“How long have you wanted this, huh?” Pride asked. “I bet you’ve been waiting to have me on my knees the minute I got here.”
“I warned you to watch your mouth,” Justice said, lips pulled into a thin line. He swallowed thickly, throat bobbing. Pride smirked up the blade again, shivering against the metal.
“Bet you’re disappointed I’m Pride and not Lust.”
“Stop it.”
“Lucky for you, Pride is the root of all sin. ”
Justice snapped out and took his ponytail in his fist. Pride gasped. The sword broke skin as he was dragged along, slicing a tiny sliver along the underside of his jaw.
He barely had time to process it before his gaping mouth was stuffed full. Justice whipped back the thin folds of his dress and shoved his cock into Pride’s face. He used the flat side of the sword to keep his head in place, forcing every inch down his throat. Pride was suddenly choking on him, nose buried in his bush.
“Being useful,” he hissed, “doesn’t include talking.”
Pride thought of several retorts, but couldn’t say them. Justice used his hair to move his head back, tugging Pride’s lips over his cock. The salty taste of his pre-cum hit his tongue on the way, and he whined involuntarily. When the sword dug into the back of his neck, Justice pushed him back down.
“This is how you act when someone tries to save your life?” he asked. “You should be grateful to have this.”
Halfway down, Pride groaned. He had no idea what he meant by it, determined to spite Justice, but still fingering himself, and now dizzy from the hard cock that filled his mouth. All the instincts of his body told him to suck and lick eagerly, to rub himself faster and come to the taste. It was hard to resist, even forced, even with a knife held to his neck.
All the rage Justice had threatened was gone, watching as he moved Pride along his cock with dark, wanting eyes. A horrible—wonderful—shiver shot down his spine and his eyes fluttered shut when he was forced to take it in the back of his throat again. When he opened his eyes, dragged back along, he wore that same amused smile as before, the one Pride wanted so badly to crush.
“Maybe I was looking forward to it,” Justice admitted. “Maybe I pulled some strings to be your only guard.” He sighed, sliding Pride back to his tip, sword against the back of his neck. “Do you have any idea how difficult it was to convince them this would work?”
His eyes blew wide, hand pausing against his clit. Justice hadn’t been ordered to do this. Pride was right.
“No one believed me,” Justice continued. “They still don’t. I couldn’t tell them why I wanted to keep you alive—so I had to tell them I could make you useful. I could make you serve Heaven. But I’m not too upset.” Justice watched him hungrily, a wistful smile on his face. “Do you know how tempting the thought of having a personal demon is?”
So that’s what this was about. Justice wanted Pride all to himself. He wanted a demon he could order around—a demon he could fuck, and call himself virtuous for it.
He moved Pride faster over his cock, and in tandem, Pride rubbed himself faster too. He didn’t know why—he should hate Justice for this, he should use this opportunity to bite his dick off, but for some reason he didn’t want to. He couldn’t. The idea that Justice did all this to have him, convinced Heaven to spare him and make him obedient just to have him for a sex toy, made him weak.
Pride rubbed his tongue over his cock, licking patterns up his shaft. He caressed his clit until he whined, muffled around his cock. It got choked out when the tip hit the back of his throat, but he buried himself willingly, flicking his clit side to side desperately.
“And you’re already,” Justice said, breath hot and short, “doing so well.”
The praise made Pride helpless. He sucked hard around Justice when he was dragged back, and Justice moaned. He kept his lips in a tight ring, laving his shaft, and then the tip of his cock. He gazed up with wide eyes, asking for more. Justice laughed breathily, tugged his hair until he whined.
“Was I right?” he asked. He bent Pride’s neck back over the edge of the sword. “Will you listen to orders?”
“Yes,” Pride moaned, rubbing himself faster and faster. “B-but—”
“But?”
“Only yours.” He tried to grind on his hand. “Only you, only for you.”
Justice melted, shoving Pride back down onto his cock with a hot sigh. He took it eagerly, sucking him hard and fucking his own hand. Never in all his centuries of life had Pride wanted to serve anyone but himself, but he feverishly devoted himself to this. Justice didn’t have to force him down, but he let it happen, following the orders he gave.
The longer he sucked, the more Justice started to lose control. The arm that held his sword trembled, he panted hard, his lids fell heavy over his eyes, the dozens of feathers in his wings trembled. Pride whimpered around his cock, wet folds flapping as he rubbed himself urgently, chasing Justice’s orgasm as much as he chased his own.
“I wonder,” Justice breathed, voice shaking, “what I can make you do when you’re mine.”
Pride stiffened, fingers curling against his clit, and came. He moaned around Justice, mouth still stuffed and a sword at his neck. He sucked Justice through his orgasm, putting all the exquisite tremors toward bringing him closer to his end. It worked, the sword hand slipping and Justice thrusting into his mouth. He came down Pride’s throat like he belonged there—and as far as Pride was concerned, he did.
When the hot haze faded, he sat on his hips, limply staring at the ceiling with empty eyes. Justice put his sword down, put his wings away, and knelt in front of him.
“Hey,” he said, out of character. “Was that alright?”
Pride sighed, a dim smile on his face. “Mhm.”
“Okay, I’m glad.” Justice squeezed his sticky hand, staring down at his lap. Even coming down from an orgasm haze, Pride knew that look.
“Was it good for you?” he asked.
“I… don’t know.”
“Oh.” He shoved his pleasured fog to the side and sat up straight. “Well, that’s what aftercare is for, yeah?”
Justice nodded firmly, squeezing his hand again. “Yeah. I would like that.”
