Prince of Tricks Read online

  This was a term Belphagor had never heard before, but it was obviously the name the angelic officers were using for their secret society. He’d have to find one of them and work his influence to get the information he needed, and he would have to do it fast. It seemed, for the morning at least, Belphagor was going to have to go back to turning tricks.

  Chetvertaya

  Apparently, the Cherub hadn’t killed him, but it had given him one hell of a headache. Vasily wasn’t in the scullery icebox. He wasn’t sure where he was, but his arms were no longer bound behind his back, thank the Heavens—and there was someone with him.

  He kindled the fire in his eyes to see across the dark little room. Propped unconscious against the wall in the opposite corner was a demoness with sapphire hair. Vasily blushed. It was the working girl Duke Elyon had bought for him at The Cat.

  He’d gone with the duke and his friends, feeling a bit awkward at being in a brothel full of women, but not expecting that he himself would take part in any of the activities the angels were eager to commence. At first he’d thought Elyon was joking when he brought the pretty demoness to him in the parlor, and he’d reddened at the sight of her uncovered breasts.

  “All yours,” the duke had said with a grin. “At least for the next hour.”

  The demoness, who called herself Sefira, hooked her arms around his shoulders and ran her tongue down the side of his neck, and all of a sudden Vasily hadn’t been so sure he wanted to decline.

  “I like men,” he tried to explain as Sefira drew him over to a pile of cushions, feeling as if he was here under false pretenses.

  “Oh, so do I, sweetmeat,” she’d purred as she unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hands across his chest and then down over the unmistakable bulge in his pants. “And you are definitely a man.” Noticing him trying not to stare at her breasts, she lifted his hands to cup them from beneath. “Don’t be shy, sweetie. You can touch all you like.”

  Vasily was impressed by the weight of them, and the unexpected softness. Somehow, he’d thought they’d be solid and hard like an engorged cock.

  “This isn’t your first time, surely, sweetmeat?” she’d asked.

  Vasily had been too embarrassed to answer, which he supposed had been answer enough.

  Sefira had pushed him gently onto his back and climbed over him. “You just let Sefi take care of everything.” She’d opened his pants and stroked his cock, her hand looking surprisingly small around it, and then lowered her mouth into his lap. He’d had his cock sucked a few times by other street boys when they’d gotten together for mutual pleasure, but never anything quite like this. Sefira took in all of him, which was no small feat, cupping his balls in her warm hand as she worked her throat against him like she was swallowing him. He had to stop her after only a minute.

  “I think I’m going to come,” he’d whispered, embarrassed, as she looked up at him.

  Sefi pulled her mouth away and laughed softly. “Well, that is the idea, sweetmeat. Don’t worry about me. I like it.” She’d swirled her tongue around the head and then studied him a moment as he gasped and tried to hold back. “But you want to fuck me,” she said, crawling up his body. “You want to know what it’s like to be inside a pussy.”

  Vasily had nodded, dumbly, and then groaned in surprise as she sat on his cock and slid straight down, no lubricant needed. In fact, she was marvelously wet inside.

  “There you go, sweetie,” she purred as she bobbed gently against his hips and then leaned over him and drew his head toward her generous breast, murmuring in his ear as his mouth closed over the hard nipple. “You fuck me as hard you want with that big fat cock.”

  He’d closed his eyes and gripped her waist and thrust up into her, overwhelmed by the sweet, warm tit against his tongue and the slick heat of her cunt around his cock, and the breathy little moans and cries she was making. Her body felt so utterly unlike anything he’d ever touched, the sounds, the musky smell, the softness and the plush curves of her so completely and decidedly not like himself that he came within seconds with an uncontrollable shout as her tit slipped out of his mouth, only just remembering as the heat rushed up through his cock to do the mental trick of cooling it down before it spilled into her.

  A loud cheer had gone up in the room around him, and he’d opened his eyes, realizing all of the angels and their demonesses were watching. He’d completely blocked out everything around him the moment she’d touched him. He quickly closed his eyes again, and Sefira had pressed herself against him and given him an almost chaste kiss on the cheek.

  “You are just about the sweetest thing I’ve ever had in me,” she murmured. “I think you deserve to get your facets’ worth. You just snuggle up against me here and keep me warm with that firespirit heat and we’ll go again when you’re ready.”

  He’d been completely fucked out by the time they left in the early morning, having in fact gone twice more—once again with Sefira, and once with a dark-haired demoness who seemed to be her partner. The two of them had enjoyed initiating him into all kinds of things he’d been ignorant of. When he’d gone back to Belphagor the next night, he hadn’t dared to tell him what he’d done, though he’d feared somehow that Belphagor would smell it on him.

  The demoness stirred, breaking his reverie, and he started guiltily.

  “Sefira,” he whispered, crawling over to her, not knowing if anyone was listening outside the door. “It’s me. Vasily. The fire demon from the other night at The Cat.”

  She focused on him, and he saw with dismay that her eye had been blackened and her lip was swollen and cut. “Well, of course you are.” Sefira put her hand to her head with a groan. “Oh, sweetmeat,” she moaned and closed her eyes. “I think we’re in trouble.”

  Belphagor knew the spots the angels frequented while trolling for demon cock. That much hadn’t changed in all the years he’d been alive. They liked to stay close to the river, but not so close that they might be seen. Just outside the Demon Market was where he’d done the most business.

  Though he’d been off the market for quite some time, he did his best to entice whenever a group of officers strolled by—or staggered by, as was mostly the case at this hour—taking advantage of his size to look somewhat innocent and passive. They were drunk enough that they wouldn’t notice he wasn’t quite as youthful as the rest of the boys.

  A group of three young officers took a fancy to him. Belphagor had been hoping to get one alone, but he might be able to make this work. He established right off, however, that while he was more than happy to pleasure them orally or by hand, he didn’t receive. He requested a modest handful of facets for his services, they each paid up, and the deal was struck.

  They’d had the foresight to rent a room for the night, and he went with them to the somewhat seedy flophouse in the end of the Demon District known as Devil’s Doorstep. One of the angels served him a drink as if they thought he might need liquid courage, and he decided to play off of that, implying this wasn’t the kind of thing he normally did, behaving just a bit awkwardly while still giving them frank, sexual glances. One of the angels reclined on the daybed and brought Belphagor to sit between his legs to put him at ease as another stood in front of him, cock straining in his uniform.

  Belphagor unbuttoned the pants and released him, stroking his fist down the length of the pink shaft until it was buried in the curly blond hair, and then tilting the cock toward the angel and dipping to suck one of his balls into his mouth. The angel groaned with pleasure.

  “Can I get you off?” the angel behind him asked quietly.

  He hadn’t expected that, but taking the fine cock in his hand had certainly raised interest within his own. He brought the other angel’s hand around to his front in answer. As the angel pulled out Belphagor’s cock and Belphagor brought the head of the one he held to his mouth and closed his lips over it, he noticed the third angel watching them with wide eyes, not quite daring to even touch himself, though he was obviously aroused. Belphagor reached
a hand out and stroked it over the angel’s erection through his pants and groaned pleasantly around the one in his mouth as the angel behind him began to pump him with his hand.

  He almost forgot why he was there as he became fully ensconced in his role, holding off on his own climax with delightful discomfort while he brought each of the angels in turn to theirs. He saved the shy one for last, teasing him periodically as he sucked off the other two, and catching his gaze when he swallowed, watching the angel’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head, apparently unaware there were men who not only didn’t mind the taste of spunk on their tongues and the feel of it in the backs of their throats, but actually enjoyed it.

  He persuaded this last angel to lie on the daybed while he straddled his calves, and Belphagor jerked himself off while he swallowed the angel’s cock enthusiastically, timing his own ejaculation for the moment the angel shot. He cupped the head of his cock and filled his hand as he swallowed the angel with a loud groan, and then rose up on his knees, lifted his shirt, and stroked his sticky hand over his abs and chest.

  They hadn’t asked about his tattoos until then, and of course hadn’t seen the large cross on his chest until now that marked him as a “King of Thieves” in the world of Man. He gave them a vague story about magical symbols that protected him, and they seemed to buy it. They certainly wouldn’t have known the earthly significance. Most angels, despite dubbing demons “Fallen”, only half believed there was another sphere to fall to.

  “Well, on behalf of angelkind,” said Phaleg, who’d stroked Belphagor’s cock, “may I say you’ve done your race proud.”

  Belphagor smiled, realizing this was his chance, before they got nervous and showed him the door. “On behalf of demonkind, I sincerely appreciate your patronage. The supernal house may not be a friend to the Fallen, but the supernal army has always been good to us.” That was a lie, of course. He’d had the shit kicked out of him by drunken soldiers on more than one occasion, but the illusion of goodwill was all he was interested in here.

  The angel he’d sucked off first gave him a stern look. “Careful what you say about the principality. We are His Supernal Majesty’s right arm.”

  Phaleg took a swig of mead. “Please, Phanuel. It’s not as if it’s a secret that the principality has neglected to sign the Liberation Decree he swore to when he was crowned. Some of us,” he said to Belphagor, “favor a representative government. Even the Fallen ought to have the right to a voice.”

  “I hear there’s some kind of protest in Elysium later today,” Belphagor offered casually.

  This was met with tight mouths, and Phaleg put an arm around his shoulder and turned him toward the door. “You should stick to what you’re so clearly called to, boy.”

  Belphagor was sure none of them still imagined him to be youthful. This was obviously meant to put him in his place. He lingered at the door after Phaleg opened it. Dawn would be here in an hour or two, and he was still no closer to finding out what the Union of Liberation might be up to. The other two angels were pulling on their coats.

  “Have you paid for the room for the whole night?” he asked. “I wouldn’t mind a place to sleep until sunup. I’ve been on my feet for hours, and it’s awfully chilly out there before dawn.” He smiled engagingly. “I’ll happily polish you off in the morning for nothing extra.”

  Phaleg hesitated, obviously intrigued by the idea. “Well, we did pay for the room.”

  Phanuel rolled his eyes and went past Phaleg into the hallway. “I prefer to sleep in a clean bed. I believe this one’s seen a bit too much action.” The third angel hadn’t spoken once, and he followed Phanuel out as though the angel was his superior. “You coming, Phaleg?”

  “I may be,” said Phaleg with a grin. “A bit later.”

  “Suit yourself.” Phanuel and his silent companion disappeared into the dark hallway as Phaleg closed the door. Belphagor had the distinct impression the other two had come along on this venture for the perverse thrill of it, whereas Phaleg seemed to express an actual desire for his own sex. There couldn’t be many angels who would admit to such a preference among their peers. Trolling for rent boys was one thing, an expected thing, but actually desiring the companionship of a man over a woman was viewed as deviant among the Host.

  Phaleg studied him with interest. “What’s your name?”

  “Ivan,” said Belphagor. Best not to take a chance he’d heard of the Prince of Tricks. “Sorry if I overstepped my place by speaking of the rally.”

  Phaleg ignored this. “May I kiss you on the mouth?”

  Belphagor hesitated. Mutual cock-play was one thing, but it felt wrong to engage in romantic behavior with this angel while Vasily was in trouble. Of course, going along with what the angel wanted might be his only hope of getting Vasily out of it. He tried to ignore the unexpected conviction that he might not want to engage in such behavior, regardless, because it would hurt Vasily. He’d never had to consider someone else’s feelings before.

  “Never mind,” said Phaleg, looking somewhat crestfallen. “Let’s just catch a few winks for now.” He sat on the bed. “I’m not sure we dare look under the covers,” he admitted with a grimace. “But I suspect you and I can keep each other warm on top of them.”

  Belphagor considered the young officer, little older than Vasily, yet already out of the Academy and awarded a command. Belphagor had a hunch about him. He hoped it was right. He dropped his voice into a more comfortable register. “Have you ever tasted cock yourself?”

  Phaleg looked up at him, and the moment’s hesitation combined with the little jump of the pulse at his throat confirmed that Belphagor’s instincts were right. “Can’t say that I have.”

  “Would you like to?”

  Phaleg swallowed, and the slow movement in his throat was all Belphagor needed for the blood to head for his cock once more.

  “Would you like me to make you?” he asked when Phaleg didn’t answer, his voice now firmly in the steely tone he reserved for such intimacy. He stepped close to the angel as he spoke, and when he still received no answer except for the rapid breathing and the pounding of the angel’s heart, he clenched his fist in the pale hair at the angel’s forehead. “I need a clear response,” he snapped. “I’ve no desire to assault a frightened boy who can’t even voice his own desires.”

  “Yes,” the angel managed, barely audible.

  “Then ask,” Belphagor ordered. “Please put your cock in my mouth,” he prompted and rubbed the angel’s face in his groin.

  Phaleg made a slight cry against him and then gasped, “Please put your cock in my mouth!”

  Belphagor whipped open his belt, snapped open the buttons on his pants and obliged the trembling angel rather forcefully.

  Phaleg panicked and gagged.

  Belphagor pulled the angel off, nearly lifting him from the bed by his hair, a silver trail of saliva still connecting the head of his cock with the succulent angelic lips. “Change your mind? Maybe you’re not cut out for this,” he suggested with a sneer.

  Phaleg shook his head desperately. “No, please. I can do it.”

  “Then do it.” Belphagor plunged in once more, and Phaleg gamely soldiered on, though his face was red with effort. “Well, don’t just sit there. You know how it’s done. I’m sure I demonstrated quite well.” He began to rock his hips forward in a steady rhythm to remind him, and Phaleg scrambled onto his hands and knees without prompting, clearly relishing the sudden freedom from his proscribed role, and sucked for all he was worth.

  It took Belphagor a bit longer to come a second time, and he could see the poor angel’s jaw was beginning to ache, but Phaleg made no attempt to slow his attentions, as if this had become a quest for him and he must prove himself. That alone almost made Belphagor come.

  As the admirable first effort began to bring him to completion, Belphagor moved his hand down to the angel’s cheek. “Do you want to swallow?” It seemed only fair to give warning. Some were less comfortable with the product of sexual s
timulation than others.

  The angel tried to nod around his mouthful, his pale blue, watering eyes expressing a mixture of eagerness and terror. Belphagor pulled out, and Phaleg looked miserable, like a dog who’d failed his master.

  “Lift your head up. Open your mouth. Come on, boy. I haven’t got all day.”

  Phaleg raised his head and opened wide, his eyes now hopeful once more. Belphagor set the head of his cock just inside the angel’s mouth and worked his hand rapidly up and down the shaft.

  “Lick,” he ordered, and just as Phaleg’s soft tongue slicked over the slit, he exploded into the angel’s mouth with a loud growl. Phaleg sucked eagerly, prolonging the intensity of Belphagor’s ejaculation, though despite the angel’s best efforts, a pearly stream of semen ran down the angelic chin into the little scruff of beard he was cultivating as Belphagor drew himself out.

  “I’m sorry,” gasped Phaleg.

  He stroked the angel’s sweaty hair across his forehead. “Nothing to be sorry about. You did very well. I just thought you’d like to taste it.” He lifted the angel’s chin, his finger against the glossy drop. “Did you like it?

  Phaleg nodded.

  “Up on your knees and show me how much.”

  The angel rose onto his knees, the tight elkskin breeches of his uniform revealing the hard curve of his cock inside them.

  “I said show me.”

  Phaleg hastily unbuttoned down the side and drew his swollen cock from his breeches.

  Belphagor nodded his approval and cupped the head for a moment, making Phaleg moan. There was nothing like angels for pretty, boyish charm, and Phaleg, with his cock in his hand and Belphagor’s spunk on his lip, was a prime example.

  “Do you want to come, boy?” Belphagor squeezed his fist around the head.

  Phaleg groaned and gasped, “Yes, please.”

  “I like the way you say ‘please’.” Belphagor released him and clapped his hands together loudly. “On your feet. Drop your pants.”