Evidenced by the wall-length window in Stocking’s room, an hour had passed as the warm sunny day slowly shifted to the beginning of evening, as the sun began its descent below the horizon.

Over time, Polyurethane felt himself becoming more and more sluggish as he continued to suffer through the desserts. Any desire to act out against the demon’s wishes slowly died out as the angel felt his insides being pushed to its limits. He was already stuffed before being forced into this bullshit, and his form-fitting spandex suit did nothing to hide the painfully hard roundness of his stomach heaving against Scanty’s body.

The angel could only hope the parade of sweets would end soon, and he could just leave to find a quiet place to puke privately. He will never crave sugar for the next 100 years ever again, and he hoped on Heaven and Earth for Polyester’s sake that he had a damn good reason for why he didn’t come save him.

Consequently, Polyurethane found himself rewarded with more soft gestures to the head. Despite these “kind” acts, he grew more and more riled up over time. He felt the world spinning around him.

“You angels would be much more tolerable if you were this dutiful,” Scanty stated as she watched the angel pant heavily after choking down a pile of artisanal cookies. Polyurethane could only huff out a strained “Fuck you,” willing himself to not puke up an hour’s worth of constant sweets.

Scanty paid no attention to his response. She simply grabbed another tart and adjusted herself on his lap once more, ‘accidentally’ pressing her elbow against the angel’s taut stomach, making him flinch from the sudden ache. He squirmed to ease the agony away, hiccups escaping from the angel’s mouth. “Open.”

A few minutes passed.

As he swallowed another large mouthful of food, Scanty allowed herself to raise an eyebrow as she studied her captive’s inert wellbeing. Satisfied, she lifted herself off of the packed angel’s lap, breaking him out of his food-induced fog as the source of all his problems went off to the side where the service cart was.

Polyurethane immediately sat up into a comfortable position with this brief intermission, fully awake and easing some of the pain from the aches of his packed belly. Everything seemed still now that there isn’t a fucking demon pinching and prodding at him while shoving down loads of Stocking’s mid sweets down his throat.

His thoughts flowed freely through his mind for the first time since this whole mishap started. He took some deep breaths to calm himself down and attempted to break the arm clasps again. After failing once more, he took stock of his position.

At a glimpse, the angel saw that all three tiers of the dessert stand Scanty had wheeled in were empty! Oh thank the Lord, he’d pop off if he wasn’t still restrained and a few mouthfuls away from having vomit leak out of his nose. On God, he will have his revenge for having to deal with this sugary bullshit. With the way the hellspawn is hovering over the cart, he’s not completely out of the woods yet.

A thought suddenly struck him. This demon won't actually let him go, will she? She’d just leave him here about to puke all over Stocking’s floor, and not only would he fail the mission, he’d incur the wrath of his bitchy emo cousin that all they’d find of his body is a dried pile of vomit and guts at the dumpster of this dungheap of a city…That BITCH-!

“Demon, how do I know you’re–” hic “--going to let me go, no–” urp “--cap? I did everything you said!” The intimidation the angel tried to project failed with each attempt to stifle his burps, his demand coming across more of a whine.

Scanty didn’t even look in his direction. She inspected the dessert stand before grabbing the platter that once housed different varieties of creme puffs and truffles, all now residing in Polyurethane’s abdomen. All that remained were chocolate smears and bits of frosting left behind during her crusade to get back at the nepo angel.

She made her way back to him, her expression revealing nothing while the angel’s temperament rose at her lack of response.

“Hey! Demon! I’m talking to you! Answer me! Are you going to let me go after this? DEMON-”

Another hard slap to Polyurethane’s face, and he fidgeted in his seat, minutes from going into a frenzy. His condition only intensified as she took her seat on his lap once more.

Scanty’s close proximity did nothing to slow down the thunderous beating of his heart, nor cool down the increasing heat he felt from being so close to a vile demon. He was intimately aware of the hotness her body was emanating, feeling every groove of her supple, firm backside on his lap. He can map all of the hellspawn’s facial features into his nightmares, from how the curls of her teal green hair rest against either side of her face to the fang that poked out of the bottom of her thin lips. His mind went blank as Scanty cupped his chin with one hand, a cold glare resting on her demonic face. All he could do was glare back, chest heaving and gritting his teeth to temper his frustration.

“I have no interest in keeping you here. I’d rather not deal with any bitching that would ensue should those whore angels realize that their insipid cousin was here in their quarters. The only intrigue I have in keeping you here is for my benefit only.”

Releasing his chin, she focused her attention on the platter. With two slender fingers, she wiped the remnants of frosting and chocolate off of the platter, coating them with a sickly sweet glaze. Admiring her handiwork, she set aside the half-clean platter with her free hand, and presented her fingers to the angel’s face. “Open.”

His wide eyes snapped from Scanty’s fingers to her face. His chest grew tight. The vitriol and pain from his belly was forgotten. “What?”

The hellspawn rolled her eyes at his apprehension. “You’re nearly finished. For a midwit angel, you can perform the bare minimum of fulfilling your commands when needed. However, I can’t allow you to go until that dish is completely spotless.” She held up her fingers once more. “It’s the least you can do, to assist in the aftermath of your mess. Now open.”

Heart hammering, all he could do was gape at her frosting-dipped fingers. Bruh, it’s just fingers, right? He had her fingers in his mouth, and it wasn’t a big deal before. It’s just frosting on fingers. He can do this, no cap. Don’t crash out…. Why is he crashing out?

He forced his mouth open, shuddering with foreboding as he stared down the demon’s oncoming hand. He felt the two digits rest on the flat of his tongue. The taste of sugar overwhelmed his tastebuds in spite of an hour of nonstop sweets dulling his sense of sweetness. His mouth flooded with drool as the frosting underneath melted away, leaving nothing but hot, soft fingertips.

He locked eyes with the expectant hellspawn, awaiting her next order, blood buzzing throughout his entire body. A smirk crossed Scanty’s face. “Suck.”
Slowly, Polyurethane swallowed around her fingers, sucking down the first of the sweet mixture. He ran his tongue amid the two digits, spreading them apart as he stroked the fold between the fingers. He could hardly breathe.

Grabbing onto the armrest, he pressed the tip of his tongue between the dip of her polished fingernails, and sucked out the frosting and chocolate. He swallowed the slobbery mix of sugar and saliva, the pressure sending the fingers into a spasm as Scanty forced them deeper down his throat.
Gagging, he fought the urge to retch up the contents of his stomach. He took a few breaths to calm himself down, and gazed up into her face. She merely closed her eyes, unbothered by the wet sounds he’d been making.

The agitation brewing for so long flared in his chest. With a low growl, he bit down on her fingers with the back of his molars, hard enough to shake the demon from her peaceful experience.

Roused by unadulterated spite, Polyurethane forced one finger to the floor of his mouth, held in place by the front of his teeth, while he focused on the other appendage, lapping at every crease on her smooth digit. He slurped down as hard as he could, feeling his mouth contract around the fingers.
Focused on the other finger, he missed the effect his performance had on Scanty as her breathing hitched. She briefly bit down on the bottom of her lip, nearly letting out a hum before realizing her slip.

Regaining control of the situation, the hellspawn used her free hand to yank the angel’s hair away from her fingers, causing the angel to moan from the sudden force before coughing from the sudden influx of air. The thick trail of saliva left behind broke as Scanty flicked the excessive drool off, cool droplets landing on the front of the angel’s chest.

She gave a small wag at the panting, shaking angel, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “How incorrigible. I knew all angels were flea-ridden mutts, but to have one slobber all over me….” She paused in her musings, before revealing a self-satisfied grin.

“I suppose I can’t fault you for your enthusiasm, as only a select few have had the privilege of being this close to my presence, aside from my dear sister. Enjoy it while you can, mutt.”

The insult barely even registered in Polyurethane’s ears. Inwardly, the angel was feeling hazy from the fact that he moaned, of all things. Where the hell did that come from? That sound… it came from him? He wasn’t highkey into this, right…? With a disgusting demon, of all things!

It’s the ick he’s feeling, not whatever that was! He’s not chopped like his heathen cousins, especially when they live with demons and work with demons! What kind of self-respecting servant of Heaven would want any of that bullshit!? It’s cringe AF, and the only reason this is even happening is because he FAFO’d and he had to fucking rely on a demon to let him out! That’s why everything feels so out of control, he’s going against tradition, and he’s crashing the fuck out and feeling weird about it! Any normie would experience the same thing in his shoes, being clapped on by a hideous demon for an hour straight! It would make anyone tweak out, not just him! Why else would it be so damn hot?!

This was the part where he clapped back, right?

The angel gave a shaky laugh, his nails digging into his own palms. He stared past Scanty’s snide face, trying to mask his bravado as he wrestled his inner turmoil. He won't let this hellspawn bitch have the satisfaction of living in his mind rent. “Uuuh…go off, I guess? There’s nothing enjoyable about a ratchetedy pick-me! Especially from a low rizz, mid AF demon bitc—A-aaah…!”

Eyes watering, Polyurethane blinked rapidly; he realized too late how badly his own body betrayed him as sharp stinging pain erupted at the crook of his neck. Hearing nothing but the hammering of his own heartbeat, the angel’s mental defenses crumbled before him. He made a strangled noise, the warmth inside him erupted into a blazing inferno, mounting as it spread throughout his body.

He tried to focus on anything else, but all he could think about was the lithe red claws that gripped his skin. He lifted his arms to grasp at her grip, to yank her off, only to be reminded that he was still bound. In the face of pain, the fire in his body continued to blaze, too intoxicating to ignore.

A depraved part of him hoped that he would bleed again.

The smug hellspawn pressed her nails together into the angel’s collarbone, reveling in the contorted expression of pain and pleasure evident on the angel’s face as he jerked around from the sensation. She could feel the bulge underneath her strain against the confines of his suit as he squirmed, protruding at her cheeks as the angel let out a strangled hiss. “Ffuuuuuuck….!”

Just before the angel reached the point of no return, Scanty released her grip. The angel gasped for air, a moment of respite before she grabbed at his chin, her voice accusatory.

“Are you going to behave now, you cur? You were performing adequately for a dullard angel with some concept of self-preservation. It would be a shame to throw all of your hard work away at the finish line. But what do I know about how an angel’s mind works?”

Polyurethane wrenched his face away, refusing to meet her predatory gaze. If he looked at her now, she’d know. She’d know how perverted she made him feel with her touch and treatment, and how absolutely fucking chopped he’d be for craving more of it. A servant of Heaven thirsting for a lesser being, a fucking demon of all things! What would Polyester think if he found out? How would His Highness react?!!

It’s time to lock-in before he crashed out, and to get the fuck out of here without being cringey for his deviant behavior. He just needed to touch some grass, ghost the demon, focus on the mission, and everything would work out in his favor. He would not crash out in front of a demon! Just ignore her!

An exasperated sigh was heard in front of him, and suddenly, he felt the cool air wash over his boiling, flushed skin. The weight on his lap had removed itself, and there was a shuffle of movement in front of him. The angel dared not open his eyes.

There’s still a chance that he can beat this affliction and maintain his restraint with his dignity intact! He threw himself back into breaking those damn clasps, straining with frenzied desperation.

Abruptly, he was pushed back into his seat as slender, toned legs pinned him down, with one knee between his thighs, rubbing against his groin. Polyurethane bit back a low moan, but his eyelids were still squeezed shut. He would not give in…!

The smell of buttercream and chocolate assaulted his nostrils as sugar-coated fingertips ghosted his lips. He shuddered, and tried to turn away but hot breaths tickled his ears as a low voice whispered to him, “I loathe to admit it but you were doing such a good job, much more tolerable than your vapid cousins. Be a good boy, and pick up after yourself before you leave, will you?”

The sinful need to give in to a demon’s word was too much to bear. But what else could he do, the angel asked himself. He couldn’t even loosen the hinges of those damn restraints, and he’s good as done for if Stocking found out he was in her room and eating her ‘treats.’ That’s not even getting to what would happen if the others found out, and his own brother and Fathe- His Highness would do when they saw he failed a simple task of finding his mid cousins’ weakness.

His only real option was to listen and do what this demon commands, and it’s up to him to not let it affect him this badly. If he could just do this one last thing and keep his chill, it’s simple as. He’d be done. Just don’t. Crash. Out.

Polyurethane swallowed hard, the lump in his throat impossible to ignore. “…On God, if you lie to me, demon, I’m coming after your ass."

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Pub: 04 Oct 2025 20:16 UTC

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