“Didn’t I tell you? Again and again and again? To summon William to Heaven? And yet! You have failed!”
Uriel gasped out as Michael shoved him to the ground, the bare sole of his foot digging into his back, where his wing had once been, teasing, caressing. He could not help but shudder at the touch.
“Hah, what’s this? Here I was, trying to punish you, but you enjoy this, don’t you? Freak.”
Michael stared down at him in utter disgust, darkness falling over that angelic face, distorting his features. And still, he was so beautiful. A terrifying beautiful spirit of vengeance, carrying out Heaven’s will, which was his will these days, by whatever means necessary.
“What? I don’t remember taking your voice as well. Nothing to say for yourself, Uriel?”
A whimper escaped his throat before Uriel could stop himself when Michael’s toes traced a line over his broken wing, the gentle touch mocking the cruelty and violence that had taken it once.
“You’re disgusting. Pathetic. You’re getting off on this, don’t you? Is that why you will not summon him to Heaven? So I will punish you, again and again? Is that your game? Piss me off so much I’ll rip off that other wing of yours?”
Uriel’s cry echoed in the vast halls of the church when Michael’s foot stomped down on his remaining wing, bones creaking and feathers crunching under the assault. Soft toes played with rucked up feathers, teasing and pressing down.
“Ah, so you had a voice… this pleases me. You should make these sounds only for me, Michael, the grandest in Heaven. I wonder… what other sounds are hidden in there?”
A hard kick to his side made Uriel roll over and Michael smirked as he pressed his foot to Uriel’s throat. Uriel’s hand curled around a slender ankle as Michael pressed down. Unable to draw breath, Uriel struggled beneath Michael, no match for the archangel’s strength as he toyed with him. Soft laughter echoed through the church as Michael continued his torment.
“Do you understand? How far you are beneath me. The only thing you are good for is using this human’s attachment to you to bring him to Heaven. The demons must not get him, don’t you understand?” Michael glared at him. “Tsk. I hate that look on your face. Even now, you think so fondly of him, I can tell. You should only think about me now and always!”
Michael’s foot slid upward, leaving goosebumps on Uriel’s face as his toes traced a line over his jaw, his cheeks, his lips.
“Lick,” Michael said.
“Are you deaf? I said lick. Worship me. Worship me, show me I mean more to you than that human. Worship me like I deserve and maybe I’ll let you have your other wing despite your failures.”
Michael’s toes pressed between Uriel’s lips, invading his mouth and weighing down his tongue. Uriel swallowed, drawing a hitched breath from Michael. There was a flush on Michael’s face, this sweet face, corrupted by the vile soul behind it. Slowly, Uriel’s tongue traced over the small toes, wetting them with his spit. And as he sucked on them, Michael’s slender hand dropped to his pants, slowly unlacing, his eyes full of malice and glee.
“Don’t look away, Uriel. It displeases me so.”
“Michael—” Uriel tried to say before Michael shoved his foot deeper into his mouth, gagging his words.
“Who said you should speak?”
And damn it, he was hardening for this, for this humiliation, this degradation. But Michael’s hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it slowly and Uriel could not look away. There was a hunger with which he licked Michael’s toes, sucking them in as Michael sighed in pleasure.
“There… I knew you were good for something. Maybe I should keep you like this? At my throne? My personal toesucker Uriel, wingless but with a tongue worth of the Heavens.”
Michael’s breath faltered as his strokes sped up. He spilled his release over Uriel’s garb, soft, sweet moans escaping him. Uriel breathed deeply, uneasily as Michael drew his foot back and rested it upon his chest, pressing down when Uriel made to get up. This was his place with Michael, was it not? Under his feet, humiliated and tortured and threatened. But giving William to Heaven… turning him into one of those dolls… He knew not if he could do it.
“Ah, ah, there it is again,” Michael said. “I don’t like it when you think of other men when you should only think about me. Perhaps I should make sure I stay on your mind… and the mission too.”
Michael giggled as the foot firmly planted on Uriel’s chest moved downward, ever downward until it came to rest on Uriel’s half-hard cock beneath his garments. “Oh? So you did enjoy it. Disgusting… but I suppose I can show you what you might get from me all you want once you bring me William. Aren’t I merciful?”
“Stop this,” Uriel moaned, but his body betrayed him, his hips bucking into that touch, grinding against the soft sole of Michael’s foot on his cock. He should hate this altogether, but he could not help but wish for its touch on his bare cock, to feel the warm skin. But Michael would not grant him that much, only the humiliation of rocking into the friction that would make him soil his own robes.
“Look at you, you pathetic cockroach. How does my foot feel? Does it make your disgusting cock feel good? You’re so hard for this, I can feel it drool against my skin even through the fabric. What kind of angel are you, to get off on this?”
And just when Uriel could feel it build up, his climax approaching, Michael pressed down hard on his cock, hard enough to be painful, to make Uriel cry out in anguish. But still, he was trembling, no further from that edge, no, perhaps even closer, to his utter horror.
“Come for me now, Uriel. I deserve this gift after indulging in your pathetic desires, don’t I? I want you to come under my foot, spill in your pants like the pathetic freak you are. Come, Uriel.”
They are your desires, Uriel wanted to say, but his cock was leaking and his orgasm hit him hard as Michael rubbed his toes over the stiff line of his cock relentlessly, almost sweetly now. His shameful moans echoed off the walls, mixed with Michael’s gleeful laughter.
Uriel was trembling when Michael’s humiliating caress had made him spend every last drop, so much it had bled through the fabric and soiled Michael’s toes.
“Gross. You should have been a demon… the lowest of demons, crawling in the muck and begging for someone to stomp you like the maggot you are. How can I sleep when something like you creeps around in Heaven?” Michael wiped his foot on Uriel’s robes, admired the mess he had left him in, a satisfied look on his face.
Michael’s radiance vanished from the church as he returned to Heaven. His last words rang in Uriel’s ears.
“If you do not summon William to Heaven soon, this is where you’ll be. A fallen angel crawling in hell after I’ve ripped out your last remaining wing. Do not fail me again, Uriel.”