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Porn Studios is a rather large building for just shooting adult films. But that’s because it is offices, rent rooms, and apartments all rolled into one. The apartments aren’t for the workers or clients, but the staff. Those that run the place. People with money and power. People like Valentino.
Valentino is one of the strongest demons on this side of Hell and everyone who is smart enough to pay attention knows it. Up close he holds himself like a demon of power would. He’s confident, laid back, has his shit together, and only has a select few people that he trusts. And trust is a generous word for it.
Angel has worked fucking hard to earn his graces with Valentino. The man doesn’t like to get close to people, no matter if they’re behind the camera or not and Angel takes pride in being Valentino’s favorite baby. He’s been made to perfection just for Val’s pleasure and to make him happy.
And what makes Valentino really happy is money and power. He gets both from Angel.
Despite being mostly private for Val’s pleasures, Angel does take up business. He won’t work the streets, doesn’t want to and doesn’t need to. He’s a luxury few can afford. Today is one of those days for back to back work.
The work he has for today is mostly stripping, showing off his body and talking it up for the suitors that get off in front of him. Today was a good day, a day where he had a very strict no touch policy. Even got to kill one of the bastards when he got too cocky and decided to steal a brush of Angel’s thigh anyway.
Needless to say, right now, Angel is ready to go home and get high. Hell doesn’t want to give him a single break today, and as soon as he’s stepping out the door of his most recent client, one of the lesser demons that works the building calls out to him.
“Hey Doll, the boss is callin’ for ya upstairs.” And continues on his way down the long expanse.
Angel finds himself rolling his eyes, “when is he not,” he grumbles, fixing his clothes while on his way to the elevator at the end of the hallway.
The ride up is quiet, thankfully no other demons had gotten on with him, and no one else has called for the elevator so it’s a straight shot to the upper levels.
Val’s office sits at the end of another long, dim carpeted hall, most of the doors on this wing locked up tight. Not even Angel knows what’s in them. Either offices or storage, he;d likely guess, but Val’s never offered to show him so Angel won’t ask.
His pimp is the first thing he sees upon opening the door, lounging out on the ridiculously sized, velvet couch, a cigar in his fingers. There’s two other demons in the chairs across from him, burly bodies and small heads and hard, beady eyes that roam over Angel’s body with an almost hungry touch.
One of the demon’s, the bluer tinted and bigger one, holds a drink in his claws. The other has a cigarette slowly burning in the air, held loosely in a smooth tentacle.
Angel ignores them both and slides over to Val, bracing himself on the edge of the couch with two of his hands while the other two slip up over Val’s chest. Snuggling into his side, Angel’s eyelashes flutter when a heavy arm settles low over the back of his waist, welcoming his cuddling.
“You called?”
Val grins wickedly at him, all sharp teeth and excited eyes before taking a long pull from his cigar. His other hand tips up under Angel’s chin, gives him a better vantage at looking Angel over.
Val nods briskly at the glass table in front of them and Angel gives it a glance. Laying across it is a neat line of a bag of white powder, a crystal ashtray, empty rolling papers, and an empty needle.
“I want you to try something for me. A test run for these fine customers of mine. Let them know just how good their product is they’re buying off me.”
And Angel knows better than to argue. Knows better than to even think of questioning Val. He’s sampled Val’s drugs before, peddled them as well, albeit without permission, but he’s dabbled in it all at least once. This stuff looks new.
Leaning away from Val, Angel uses one of his empty hands to take up the rolling papers, pausing only when Val tuts at him and takes another drag of smoke. When Angel shifts his hand to instead hover over the needle, the hand at his waist slips lower, gives his ass a slow rub in approval.
Angel didn’t want to get himself blackout high tonight, just something to grate the edge off into something smooth and round, but he can’t go against what’s been told of him. Not in front of Val’s guests. He might have tried to wheedle his way out of it were they alone, just the two of them, but Val’s wrath gets harsher the more people are around to see.
Angel stays snuggled up close to Val as he prepares whatever this powder stuff is into the syringe, lots of the demons here like that soft, innocent baby act. There’s always something powerful about taking control and hurting something pure.
He makes sure the two demons across from them can see the needle breaking his skin, only pushes a small amount of the cloudy mix in and already can feel the hot rush of it racing in his veins. Just as he’s about to draw the needle out, Val says, “All of it, baby.”
And Angel won’t say no, pushes the plunger all the way down slowly, breathing in deep as it reaches the end. The empty syringe clatters against the glass tabletop and he curls up closer to Val’s chest as he waits for the drug to really take hold of him. He hopes it won’t make him hallucinate. He hates that shit.
The heat starts slow and the euphoria kicks in first. It dulls his senses and makes his mind heavy and relaxed, like a hot blanket right over his shoulders. It doesn’t take long before he’s rubbing a hand along Val’s chest. Getting horny sure didn’t take long with this one.
Feeling daring and emboldened by the floating of his mind, he asks Val quietly, what it was he just took and Val’s smile grows.
“Something new.”
It isn’t the answer he wants but he hums just the same. Nothing happens at first. The demons across from them continue to watch quietly, and Val keeps Angel close with an arm slung around his waist.
The liquid heat builds and grows and scratches through his veins now, more and more with every touch Val presses against him.
Angel sits up, feeling too hot for the contact already.
He doesn’t know if he’s scared about this new feeling or not. The fuzzy heat prevents him from actually dwelling too much on feeling anxious or scared. The emotions are fleeting and just on the surface.
Angel closes his eyes with a low moan, trying to decide if he wants to stand all the way up or lay out across the couch. It feels so fucking good to have his eyes closed. His entire body floats up with it. Not having any visual tethers lets him wander in the sensation of actually floating, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he was swaying right now.
He can hear talking in the room, distant and quiet, too far away for him to pay attention to. He knows none of it is actually directed towards him so he doesn’t really care right now. Probably Val cutting a deal. He smiles to himself, more money for his pimp, means more money for him.
The feeling of hands on his body makes him moan again. Each point of contact blooms with warmth and starts to tingle and hum. He wants to scratch it. The hands increase in number, touching all over and Angel can’t place who is who.
He suddenly gets a feeling like he’s falling over, equilibrium gone dizzy. He doesn’t even open his eyes to try and catch himself, just finds two hands pressing into the soft cushions. The other two he’s lost track of somehow, still caught up in the hot tingling touch.
When he next opens his eyes he’s got a sideways view of the room, cheek smushed into the cushions. The entire room feels like it’s floating, swaying and swirling around him in heated waves.
Angel knows what being fucked is like, knows when some rando John’s got a semi-decent dick to make him forget for a few hours. This is…. Something else. He thinks it’s the bigger demon that’s behind him, his dick fills him out uncomfortably well, hot and heavy and thick and reaching so far up inside of him Angel can’t help but let his eyes roll back every time he bottoms out.
He knows he’s probably drooling, doesn’t care if it makes him look sloppy, doesn’t want to think about it too hard. He’s only vaguely aware that his second set of arms have come out too, clinging to the hips of the demon behind him, while another pair claw the couch in front of them, and the other two pinned in the space at his lower back.
He feels secured, pinned down and conquered despite having four free hands. They’re too occupied holding him on for the ride, of this demon that’s scrambling his head into hot fuzzy mush. He doesn’t notice that he’s making the most noise out of everyone in the room, echoing off the small walls.
Loose and listless, Angel can’t push back into the brutal thrusts. Usually he’s more responsive and more active with his clients. Some of them like him to be submissive, but this is a little much, even on his own standards.
A particular thrust suddenly has him clenching down and gasping, shoved forward on the couch until the next thrust follows it and he yells.
A hand tangles into the mess at the top of his head and yanks him to the side. The smaller demon snarls at him to shut up and immediately forces his squirming dick right behind Angel’s teeth.
Keeping track of time after the demon’s tentacle dick curls up in the back of this throat is difficult. Angel’s caught on the high of pleasure and heat and everything being extremely wet.
He guesses it’s been an hour? It feels like it’s been an hour, maybe it could be more. But the demons fucking him have both cum once, filled him up on both ends to overflowing and have decided to switch around.
The smaller demon is by no means any easier going in his ass, despite the massive cock he’s now licking himself off of. He usually hates having to clean his own slick off of dicks and fingers and anything else, but he’s too out of it to argue now, lets his tongue work slow and uncoordinated over the dripping slit.
The tentacled demon shoves inside of him without warning, and the quick thrashing of the appendage inside makes Angel arch, all of the fur and hair on his torso rippling up in his shiver. It suddenly feels too much, too sensitive, and he jerks in the loose hold they both have on him. His hands all scramble and search for purchase.
The two demons hold him harder, disregarding his frantically kicking legs and moans for it being too much. Neither of them can get good enough angles for sticking their dicks into him like this and he’s almost proud for it, you know, if he had any capacity to think like that. Which he definitely doesn’t.
Angel’s reduced down to nothing but hot, oversensitive nerves and heat and wet and oh god oh godohgod Val please make it stop-
“Haha, look at him crying. Sure do got a pretty fuckdoll, Valentino.”
Another rush of cum heats his stomach and sends him right off into his own orgasm, but he’s just aware enough to feel the other one shooting his load across his face. He wishes he was coherent enough to gripe about it. It’s gonna be a bitch to wash out.
The larger demon flips him around so fast Angel gets his first uncomfortable wave of nausea. It’s all blown away when his knees get shoved up into his chest and a cock thrusts into him mercilessly. The shock of pleasure he gets right before passing out is close to goddamn nirvana, almost as good as the high he got that killed him in the first place when he was human.
Something unintelligent bubbles out of his mouth, a plea, and curse, a strangled noise, and he doesn’t even get the feel the first thrust before he succumbs to the darkness around him, pulling him down into his own head.
Angel wakes up to pain and aches and a serious hangover. His entire back screams at him for laying down, his hips and knees are numb, his jaw is sore and throbbing. He hasn’t been cleaned up, still sticky and crusted over with many many rounds of spend.
He doesn’t want to sit up, doesn’t even fucking try it, just opens his eyes and squints at the room. At least it’s not Val’s office, thank fuck. That’d be humiliating.
This room is one of the random rent rooms, generic wallpaper, generic sheets, generic carpet. It’s all incredibly jarring to his eyes and he squeezes them shut with a groan.
His desire to be clean far far outweighs his want to not move, and he sits up slowly. Angel still finds himself hissing. His headache turns splitting and throbbing in pulses. Immediately, he wishes he had some liquor to drown it out.
Swear up and down, he won’t be dabbling in whatever new drug Val’s got again. He plans on giving his pimp an earful about it later. He gets his thoughts in order, starts to think of how to counter any of Val’s arguments when his stomach rolls disturbingly. He has just enough time to roll to the edge of the bed and stick his face over the edge as his stomach upends itself.
Gagging through the almost neon bright blue vomit, Angel doesn’t notice the door and someone stepping in until it clicks shut. He blinks hard to clear away the tears, cursing blindly at himself and his stomach and the hand that pats him on the top of the head, clear of any cum and spit and mess.
Val’s scent is easily distinguishable from the vomit on the carpet and it soothes a deeper part of Angel, a part much much smaller and fragile than he will ever let Hell see.
There’s a handkerchief sweeping under his chin and getting the most of the blue off his lips and then it’s tossed onto the nightstand. Between one blink and the next, Val’s got his cock out hard and ready for him, nudging insistently against his lips.
Angel feels terrible and he really doesn’t want to be giving a blowjob right now but he obediently opens his mouth slightly, to not jostle his still smarting jaw, and starts to suck and bob his head slowly.
“That’s it, baby,” Val purrs at him, blows heavy smelling smoke above his head and lets Angel take his time to adjust and get the angle right, swirl his tongue the way he likes, brace himself with his hands on the bed so he can lean in and take him down deeper.
“Did a good job, Angie. Practically sold my new pitch for me. Got those bastards hooked, ready to be regulars for me for distribution after seeing what it did for you.”
Val still doesn’t move his hips any, but Angel can feel his searing eyes on the top of his head as he gags and chokes more than he usually does. Tasting his own bile doesn’t really do it for him despite knowing his way around Val’s cock.
Shutting his eyes, Angel lets himself think about something different, lose himself to the feeling of the soft bed under his body and the sheets clutched in his fingers.
“Wish I’d have recorded that sesion for you, baby. Looked the prettiest when you’d passed out on em, kept on whining and moaning as they fucked you over and over.”
Something cold shivers down Angel’s neck and he sucks hard, flicks his tongue hot and wet under the second ridge on Val’s cock where he really likes it, and is satisfied at the burst of sour on his tongue, filling his mouth, and sliding down his throat. It means Val’s done, won’t talk about it anymore.
Angel tips his head up with Valentino’s demanding fingers under his chin, opens wide and sticks his tongue out to show him he’s not spilled a single drop. It earns him a sleazy grin and a thumb stroking his tongue before Val lets him go and tucks himself back in.
“I’ll see you later, Angel baby.” Val promises, blowing out one last heave of smoke before he leaves the room with another click of the door.
Angel knows he won’t come back in, knows no one will, and the comfort is the final stitch cut.
The tears burst free, and it takes him an entire hour to make it stop, curled up on the bed, desperately wishing he could call Cherri and have her take care of him like always. But there’s no one but himself to drag him into the showers and prepare for the new day.