Tzyeriel was an odd duck. Usually, angels of wrath carried themselves with an air of solemn duty, but the broad-chested, armored Seraph approached his duties with a smile on his face, whistling pleasantly as he plucked the scrolls of righteous punishment from his commanding officer’s hand.
One day, he was sent to a region of the mortal realm to deal with a fallen angel who’d been causing problems for the locals. The Seraph landed on a bustling city street, wandering unseen. All around him, shirtless men laughed and drank under the hot midday sun.
As he walked along the pavement, music pulsed from the nearby open bars. He nodded in time to one of the tunes, a rather synth-heavy piece overlaid by a voice as smooth as silk. Tzyeriel smiled and, swept up by the rhythm, began to dance in his awkward way.
Suddenly, his halo started shimmering the way it always did when he was close to a fallen one. He grinned cheerily, pulled out his long leather lash, and followed the ever-brightening glow like a compass.
The light led him down a blind alleyway. Bits of trash lay strewn about like autumn leaves. Tzyeriel saw the shadowy figure of his target disappear behind a dumpster. The Seraph tiptoed forward, hoping to surprise him.
He was confused by what he found. There was not one, but two fallen ones present. However, they were far too busy to notice his unexpected appearance. The larger one, an angel named Chazaqiel, was down on his knees, while Tzyeriel’s assignment, the angel Armaros, was facing the wall with his arms and legs spread wide.
Chazaqiel was...?
The Seraph cocked his head and thought,
Why does he have his face buried in Armaros’s bottom?
Tzyeriel set aside his whip and silently watched them. Before long, Armaros groaned,
“Enough! Have of me as you will!”
Chazaqiel stood up, spat into his hand, and ran the spittle along his large erection. He entered Armaros, filling him inch by inch until he’d reached the hilt. Chazaqiel’s carnal companion cried out in pleasure. The larger angel pulled back and forth, swiftly slamming his hips with immense force.
As he watched, Tzyeriel felt an unfamiliar excitement. His own length grew tight against his codpiece until he could bear it no longer. He unlatched himself, pulling his erection free.
Chazaqiel finally noticed him. He stared blankly at the Seraph while continuing to penetrate Armaros.
Something in that gaze sent Tzyeriel over the edge.
The angel of Heaven came, and it was good.
***
Later that night, he returned to Heaven, giving the front guard a passing glance while passing through the gates. Tzyeriel had been so surprised by the unexpected burst of pleasure that the fallen angels managed to escape. He wasn’t sure what happened, but knew he wanted to experience that feeling again.
Unsure of what else to do, he flew to the hall of battlements. It was a section of the celestial realm where the soldiers rested between spiritual campaigns. As he entered, he found several large, imposing angels playing cards and laughing over stories.
Two were busy wrestling in the fighting ring. Tzyeriel wandered over to watch the muscular angels grapple each other. One of the figures, a striking brunette, pinned his opponent from behind, giving out a wild cry as he took hold of his opponent.
Tzyeriel was reminded of what he’d seen in the alley. A blush spread across his face as he thought,
Those fallen really seemed to be enjoying themselves. Are angels of Heaven capable of doing such things?
The Seraph looked away, worried he might become aroused if he kept watching. He wandered over to a card game and asked,
“Is it all right if I join in?”
They peered up at him curiously. A couple of players shuffled in their seats to make a room. Tzyeriel sat down, grabbing his cards. He sorted his hand quietly while the others discussed the details of their latest battle.
Tzyeriel tried to think of how to address what he’d seen, until finally the words came to him. He looked up, saying,
“I had a run in with a couple of fallen angels today. Their names are Chazaqiel and Armaros. They were doing something odd behind a dumpster...”
The soldiers turned their full attention to him; any conversation involving fallen angels always piqued their interest. Tzyeriel shared his story in vivid detail. After a time, most of the angels started laughing so hard they were doubled over.
Save for Verchiel, who sat staring at Tzyeriel with a fearful, pale expression.
Unsure of how to continue, Tzyeriel joined in, laughing heartily.
After the game ended, he drifted off, seeking a moment of solitude at the back of the barracks. As he sat alone in a dark corner, mulling over the day’s events, he heard a nervous voice whisper,
“Tzyeriel, might I speak with you?”
The Seraph looked up and saw Verchiel. Tzyeriel replied,
“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
The soldier turned to make sure they were alone before returning his gaze to the Seraph and said,
“In the aftermath of a recent battle, I witnessed a pair of fallen ones engaging in such an act. Perhaps they assumed we were about to attack them and wished to savor their final moments, but I... when I watched them, I felt...”
He blushed deeply. Tzyeriel smiled, replying,
“Like you wanted to try what they were doing?”
Verchiel put his finger to his lips, indicating Tzyeriel should quiet down, and whispered,
“I... yes, I want to experience it for myself, but I’ve heard the others speak of it; the act is so forbidden, I’d be thrown out of Heaven if I was caught.”
Tzyeriel asked,
“Why?”
Verchiel shook his head, saying,
“I’m not sure. All I know is that when my brothers witnessed the fallen ones in such congress, they fell upon them with a greater fury than I’d ever seen before.”
Tzyeriel found this strange, but replied,
“How about we meet somewhere in the mortal realm later to see what it’s like together? We can go deep into a cave where nobody will find us.”
Verchiel drew in a sharp breath, nodded, and replied,
“I... yes, I’d... I think I’d enjoy that.”
***
A few days later, they rendezvoused in a cavern set among the rocky outcrops of a rural village. Tzyeriel’s glow lit up the darkness as they traveled deep into the earth. When the angels had gone far enough, they stopped, facing each other. The Seraph said,
“Those fallen ones I witnessed were naked... I think we should start by taking off our clothes.”
Verchiel laughed nervously and replied,
“I agree; based on what I’ve seen, it gets in the way of-”
Tzyeriel smiled, cheerily responding,
“I’ll start!”
He removed his outfit piece by piece, saving his codpiece for last, then glanced over at Verchiel, who stood staring at his body with obvious desire. The Seraph unbuckled himself, freeing his half-erect staff. Tzyeriel put his hands on his hips, announcing,
“Your turn!”
Verchiel began by unbuckling the clasps that held his cloak in place. Soon, he stood nude before the luminescent angel, his member stiff and ready. They moved towards each other, but paused briefly, still unsure of how to proceed. Verchiel looked deep into Tzyeriel’s eyes, whispering,
“I... I want to touch you.”
The Seraph nodded. Verchiel reached out to grasp Tzyeriel’s rigid length. He held it in his hand, giving it a few gentle tugs. The golden angel moaned softly, murmuring,
“Oh, that feels good…”
Tzyeriel smiled as Verchiel continued stroking him. The soldier moved in close, grinding himself up against the Seraph’s muscular body, and said,
“Now do this for me.”
Tzyeriel reached out, marveling at the thickness of his partner’s rod. The pair savored the feeling of each other, their joyous sacrilege growing with every pull.
Neither had ever taken in the raw, sweaty scent of another angel’s body up close. They found the experience thrilled them nearly as much as the sensations they gave each other in the dark.
Verchiel whispered,
“There’s something I want to do to you.”
Tzyeriel, wrapped in a fog of pleasure, responded,
“Mmm, what?”
The soldier kissed Tzyeriel’s cheek, fell to his knees, and hungrily wrapped his lips around the glowing lance awaiting him. The Seraph gasped, so enraptured was he by the brilliant wet heat engulfing him. As Verchiel ran his tongue all over his throbbing member, Tzyeriel thought,
So this is Paradise...
He felt that same burst of ecstasy welling up within him. Unable to contain it, he grabbed the back of Verchiel’s head, thrusting as much of himself as could fit down the powerful angel’s throat. Verchiel eagerly pulled him closer, swallowing every drop of sacred essence.
Afterwards, Tzyeriel sat back, dazed but satisfied. He looked over at his companion, who seemed overwhelmed by what they’d just done. The Seraph smiled, murmuring,
“Time for me to return the favor.”
Verchiel’s concerned expression gave way to one of anticipation.
Tzyeriel got down on the floor and showed him the light of Holy glory.
They met in secret every chance they got to further explore each other, but the space between their ecstatic encounters felt endless. After tasting forbidden pleasure, how could their former way of life even begin to compare?
Occasionally, they’d cross paths, but their caution required a display of outward coldness, if only to hide the fire they felt for one another.
***
One day, Tzyeriel came across Kabshiel, an angel of blessings. The Seraph had just finished punishing a spiteful demon, when the beautiful angel appeared before him.
Kabshiel stared at him, his lips parting invitingly. Somehow, when they looked into each other’s eyes, they knew each other’s hidden truth.
The angels glanced down at the horned, whimpering demon. Kabshiel noted,
“This creature has tormented mankind for years.”
Tzyeriel nodded and replied,
“It’s a terrible thing to suffer endlessly.”
Kabshiel’s countenance became one of hidden sorrow. The Seraph approached until he was close enough to whisper,
“I can tell you’ve endured enough. Meet me in the mortal realm tonight so I may relieve you of your burden.”
That night, the angel of blessings waited for him under the stars. When Tzyeriel arrived, he held the forlorn angel in his warm embrace, introducing Kabshiel to a new form of forbidden fruit.
*** And so it went. The Seraph found other angels like himself and extended the succor he had to offer.
To an angel of the ninth choir, he provided oral comfort. With a harbinger of dreams, his member induced sultry visions. One by one, each of them accepted his gift of pleasure, happily falling into his arms.
There was one exception: a scribe with chestnut-colored hair who seemed to enjoy him, yet refused to acknowledge Tzyeriel once the deed was done. The Seraph wasn’t sure why the angel became so cold to him, but decided to leave the matter be.
Before long, he’d introduced more than a dozen angels to each other. The group began meeting regularly to temporarily escape the strict confines of Heaven. Sometimes they’d draw straws, with the winner enjoying an evening of being penetrated repeatedly, orally pleasured, and offered the erect members of the others to suckle to his heart’s content.
But then there came a day when two of them, the angels Caliel and Umabel, didn’t show up at the preordained gathering place.
Everyone waited. When their friends never arrived, a cold fear began filling their hearts.
It wasn’t long before they learned their friends had been caught making love by one of Heaven’s enforcers.
Caliel and Umabel’s had been thrown out of the celestial realm forever.
Verchiel shivered as he relayed how the event had been described by his fellow soldiers. The brutes spoke laughingly of the fear on their friends faces, and, sadder still, how they’d begged to hold each other’s hands while they fell.
Tzyeriel couldn’t understand it; neither he nor his friends were causing any harm, yet Heaven was so ready to condemn them.
It was agreed they would stop meeting, lest anyone else be discovered. It saddened Tzyeriel, but he kissed them all one last time, telling each how precious they were to him. As the angels parted ways, he wondered if their form of love would ever be accepted amongst their kind, or if angels of desire were destined to be pariahs forever.
***
In the months that followed, Tzyeriel was sent to Hell, not to suffer, but to deal with a fallen angel named Rosier, who needed to be punished for breaking up a mortal marriage.
The Seraph landed at the entrance of Satan’s castle, only to hear sorrowful music playing on the wind.
He stopped, hearing a reflection of his emotions in every note. Tzyeriel looked up and saw a horned angel on the castle balcony above, strumming the strings of a violin. The Seraph thought,
Here is one who knows my own heart.
He entered the front gate, climbing the grand staircase.
Tzyeriel opened the doors to Satan’s throne room and finally found his true love.
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