Kinktober2023 Day 2: Thigh Riding
Holy War
for Kinktober2023 by Annika Sage Ellis
contains: thigh strap, anal sex, edging, cis/trans, angel/demon, light dom/sub
Over the countless centuries of his existence, Justice learned long ago that righteous anger was very different from the true embodiment of his virtue. There were so many ways it could go wrong—so many atrocities it could condone, in the name of integrity. If all justice was centered on defeating the wicked and going no farther, no justice would truly be done.
True justice was about righting wrongs. About fixing what was broken. Punishment could come after, or maybe never. The important thing was to ensure the downtrodden could stand on their own again. A justice that sought only to punish, a justice without a gentle hand to blunt its edges, was no better than wrath.
However. If there was one creature in the vast endlessness of existence that would make him question this deeply held conviction, it was Pride. It would always, always, be Pride.
And right now, Justice wondered if maybe he should have gone through with smiting him.
The film they chose for their at-home date night played out on the TV, but Justice wasn’t watching it. Instead, he watched his fists clench in the carpet on either side of one of Pride’s legs. He rolled his hips back, fucking himself deep on the dildo strapped to his thigh. As he’d been doing for the last forty-five minutes.
“You’re not even paying attention,” Pride chastised.
“I’m,” Justice panted, “a little busy.”
“You’re gonna miss the best part.”
Justice groaned in the back of his throat, gritting his teeth as he rolled forward again. He didn’t care what the best part of the movie was—he didn’t even remember what they were watching. All he knew was that he wasn’t allowed to come until some event happened on screen, something he’d agreed to before he knew how long the movie was.
That single poor decision tormented him. Every time he rocked back and choked on a moan, when his thighs quaked, when he had to hold his breath and force the orgasm back down, he cursed that single moment in time. Cursed his thoughtlessness. Of course Pride would want to draw this out as long as possible. Of course he’d make it as much an exercise of endurance as intimacy.
A massive crunch interrupted his frustrated train of thought. Justice tossed a weak glare over his shoulder.
“What?” Pride asked, muffled by yet another fistful of popcorn.
“Can you be,” he said, “at least a little romantic?”
“This is romantic. I get to watch the show, and you…” He ran a sharp nail down Justice’s spine, making him shiver against his will. “You get to watch the movie.”
Justice swallowed and sat back, looking up at the TV. “At least tell me if we’re close.”
“I don’t know. Are we?”
Pride snaked a hand around his waist to toy with his cock. Justice snapped up straight, a breathy moan escaping at the slight brush. Slowly, Pride ran two fingers up the length of his shaft, slick with pre-cum, traced around the tip where it peeked out from his foreskin, and back down again. Never grasping, never stroking, just a persistent tease. Like the entire night had been.
But Justice ached for any sort of simulation. He whined and started to bounce on the thigh strap, small thrusts born of desperation. He felt his breath shorten, muscles tighten, but he knew it wasn’t enough. Pride abandoned his cock and grabbed his waist with both hands, guiding him to land harder. He shook all over, urgent whimpers tumbling out of his mouth faster than he could ever stop them.
“Are you close, Justice?” Pride asked, pressing kisses on his back.
“Yes,” he breathed.
“Do you want to come now?”
“Yes, Pride, please, please, I want to come now.”
“Well—”
On the next thrust, Pride held him still, and pointed at the screen. Justice opened his eyes enough to look up.
“Unfortunately, you missed your window.”
His stomach dropped. “Missed it?”
“Yeah, like five minutes ago.”
And suddenly all that frustration rushed back. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“I told you to pay attention! This is your fault, J-man.”
Justice simmered with holy rage. He replayed all the early moments when he had the opportunity to carry out his duty as an angel, and refused. All of those moments that led to their friendship, their love… and this.
“I hate you,” he decided.
“You don’t hate me yet,” Pride told him. “I haven’t even picked a new window for you yet. I’m thinking—oh, maybe the end of the movie?”