0 comments/ 130680 views/ 3 favorites Under His Wing By: Secret Sparkle I checked into the hotel around 9, dumped my stuff in my room and immediately headed down to the bar. This was my first time traveling for a conference and my first "real" job. I was barely out of College and only 21. It all seemed so exciting. I was surprised when my boss, Paul invited me along. I was only an entry level salesman and didn't feel this conference pertained to my position. It was all about marketing concepts and so forth. I was no where ready for that department. But Paul said he saw potential in me and wanted to "take me under his wing" and help me advance in the company. I sat at the bar feeling a little silly in my gray business suit and red tie ordering a rum and coke. The bar tender carded me and I could feel myself blushing as he looked a little too long at my ID before he handed it back to me. I still looked so young, like a kid wearing his father's clothes. Seeing that my ID was from out of state, he asked me what I was doing in town. I told him I was in for the Marketing Conference at the Convention Center and told him the name of my company. He shot me a very disturbing look and said, "Oh, you are here with Paul." He handed me the drink and then quickly added another shot of rum from a different bottle before I could pick it up. I asked him if Paul was a regular at that hotel and he said, "yes he is and you will be too." As I opened my mouth to ask what he meant he quickly turned and walked away. Then he looked over from across the bar and said, "that one's on the house boy." I shrugged it off. I was just glad to be on the ground, out of the plane and drinking some alcohol. I had nearly finished the drink when Paul walked into the bar. He greeted me enthusiastically and shook my hand. "Mike I am so glad you finally made it. I see you are in need of another drink." He looked over at the bar tender and nodded. He nodded back and took out the rum bottle and started mixing me another rum and coke. Paul and I chatted casually about our plane rides and so forth. We had taken separate flights. I was in the midst of drinking my second drink and babbling on about how excited I was about the conference when suddenly I began to feel strange. I was dizzy and having difficulty seeing. Paul acted concerned and told me it was time to take me up to my room. He was a much larger man than I. He stood about 6 foot 3 and was at least three hundred pounds. I was staggering and falling against him as we went down the hall. By the time we reached the room he was nearly carrying me. He opened the door to MY room with HIS key and I realized that we were sharing a room. Everything was spinning and I couldn't talk. He nearly shoved me into the room and slammed the door behind him. I fell onto the one and only king-sized bed in the room. Paul started yelling at me to take off my clothes. I was confused and started to protest but nothing would come out of my mouth. He told me that if I wanted to keep my job I better do everything he said. If not I better figure out a way to hitch hike back home and that he had taken all of my money, credit cards and ID out of my pocket in the bar. I was stunned and confused but I started to take off my shirt. "Stand up you little piece of shit and take your clothes off now! Do it quickly or I will tear them off of you." I was so scared. What was he going to do to me? I stripped down to my underwear and he smacked me hard across the face. He took out a large hunting knife and cut my underwear off of me. The blade came so close to my cock that I screamed. He informed me that he had connections at the hotel and that no amount of screaming was going to bring me help. I was naked and shivering and barely able to stand. My drink had been spiked. I was a very skinny kid at only 140 pounds and 5 foot 8. My hair was a bit long and shaggy. He took me by the hair and shoved me down on the bed. He threw himself on top of me with all of his weight crushing me into the mattress. His cock was rock hard and huge in his pants and he was grinding it against mine. I was scared and repulsed but had no ability to fight him off. Paul was holding down my arms and staring me in the eyes. I looked away and he spoke harshly, "Look at my eyes!" Horrified I looked into his. I began to cry. It was shocking because I had not cried in many years. But the intense glare of those eyes tore through any and all emotional shields and left me completely helpless. Tears were rolling down my cheeks and muffled sobs were escaping me. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back. "Look at the baby cry," he whispered in my ear. "Now don't move!" I couldn't imagine how I could. I was completely limp from the alcohol and drugs and absolutely terrified. He climbed off of me and went to the dresser. He pulled out a roll of duct tape. With a loud rip he pulled of a strip and came back over to the bed. He held up my limp penis with two fingers and laughed. "Well you obviously aren't using this so let's put it away. I don't want you to accidentally enjoy this." Enjoy this? At that moment I realized that there was a part of me that did. Stretching my soft cock as far as he could he began wrapping it tightly in the duct tape and then taped it to my belly. I was confused and uncomfortable but then he began massaging my balls and I started to get aroused. As blood tried to flow into my bound penis I felt horrible pain and I begged him to stop. "You don't beg me to do anything I don't tell you to beg for! Were you enjoying my touch?" I shook my head no and he smacked me across the face then he squeezed my balls in his palm and I screamed for him to stop. "Listen Michael, I OWN you and if I want to hurt you I will. Now I am going to use you all week and you will NOT tell me no and you will NOT have an orgasm. You do as your told and I will let you keep your job. If you refuse me I will use you anyway and I will see to it that you never get another decent job in your life." He winked at me and said, "But I think you have potential son so don't disappoint me." He began wiping the tears off of my face and in a soothing voice he asked me to stop crying and told me it would be OK. He unzipped his pants and climbed on top of my face. He pulled out his shockingly huge penis and pressed it against my mouth. "Open up and DO NOT BITE ME! You bite me and I will cut yours off." I opened my mouth and he shoved his huge cock into my mouth. I gagged and was repulsed but he just kept it in my wide open mouth. Then he began to fuck my face. I was gagging and barely able to breath. He was fucking my mouth like it was a pussy and did not care if I was breathing or not. I could not believe what was happening to me. I was not gay and had never considered having sex with a man. I found it repulsive and was humiliated that it was being forced on me. Yet I found it disturbing that as he fucked my mouth, my bound penis was aching from a desire to become erect. He climbed off of my face and I gasped for air. He ordered me to roll over onto my belly and I was terrified at what was coming next. I begged him to please be easy on me, that I had never been with a man before. He reminded me sternly that I was not allowed to beg. "I will be as rough as I want. In fact since you were a bad boy and begged me I think I will be extra rough." He took off his clothes, piled several pillows onto the bed and told me I was to lay on top of them with my ass in the air. I did as he said. "Spread your legs as far as you can and beg me to fuck you. Make it believable and maybe I will use some lube." The thought of my virgin ass being raped by a dry cock startled me into performing for him. "Please fuck me Paul. I want it so badly. Shove your massive coke into my ass. Please!" Good boy he said and began rubbing my ass. He opened a bottle of lube and began pouring it onto my exposed anus. Slowly he began massaging my anus with his fingers. Then he slowly slid one in and began fucking my ass with his finger and lube. "Tell me you want my cock." Again I begged for him to fuck me. I did not want this. I didn't like having his thick finger inside me and I couldn't imagine his entire penis in my ass. I buried my face in a pillow and continued to beg. He positioned himself behind me and I could feel the head of his penis at the hole. Slowly he began shoving in the head. Once it was in he shoved the rest in quickly. I screamed, the pain was intense. Then he pulled all the way out and shoved it in again. It hurt like hell but there was something else. My cock was throbbing in pain as it was trying to get hard. The pain in my ass was turning to pleasure as he pumped me mercilessly. I was starting to enjoy it. "Oh God Paul, I need you to release my penis. It hurts." "If I let it out you will have an orgasm and you are not allowed. This is all about MY pleasure. I may not let you cum all week." I was being fucked by a man and I was becoming distressed that I was not going to be able to cum. I should just want him to stop but suddenly I was wanting more and I was wanting to enjoy it. Then Paul quickly pulled out and started laughing at my poor violated ass up in the air. I was confused. It actually was starting to feel good and I was sorry that he stopped. I wasn't gay but I wanted more and I was ashamed of that. I started to sob again. I was shaking all over and I felt his hand on my ass. Fear silenced my tears. He quickly shoved 2 fingers up my ass which seemed like nothing after having his cock in me. He pulled them out, applied more lube and went back in with three fingers. He was finger fucking my ass hard. Then he added a fourth finger and began twisting his hand inside of me. It hurt and I gasped. "Shut up," he whispered as he removed all four fingers and added even more lube. He balled his hand into a fist and pressed it against my ass. He just held it there for a while and I moved away. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me back. Slowly he began to shove his clinched fist all the way into my ass. I started screaming and crying for him to stop. "I thought you wanted more. You wanted me to make you cum. You let me do as I please and maybe I will allow you to cum. Now do not fight me and stop crying. You sound like a little girl." I could hear a giggle coming from the adjoining room and the door opened and a woman walked in. It was the secretary from the front office. I didn't even know her name. She looked at me on all fours crying into a stack of pillows as Paul raped my ass with his fist. "Oh God Paul, You are showing this one no mercy are you. Mind if I watch the fun?" "Fine but make yourself useful and get some footage of this. I forgot to set up the camera." She picked up the camcorder off of the dresser and pointed it right at my ass. His fist was going deeper into me and I could barely stand it. He was moving very slowly but it was absolute torture. Then she came around to my head and I buried my face in the pillow. "Look at her!" demanded Paul as he shoved in a little harder. I looked up slowly and shamefully. Paul then ordered me to tell the camera my full name and I did. My ass was on fire but my penis was absolutely dying to get out. Suddenly he was all the way in. He had his entire fist in my ass and I was terrified that he would tear me up. He began fucking my ass with his fist. "You want to cum don't you?" I admitted that I did. "Tell the camera that you love to be fisted and I will consider it." I was so ashamed but I needed it so badly. I confessed to the camera that I loved being fisted. I was starting to think that I did. I felt sick. "Carmen, put down the camera and help me out here." Paul continued to fist me and the secretary who I now know as Carmen began to gently stroke my testicles. "Please Carmen, remove the tape." She didn't respond she just kept stroking my balls and Paul was fisting me even harder. She reached under me and pressed her hand against my bound cock then she started to slowly pull at the tape and it was tearing the hair off of my belly but I didn't care. I needed her to release it, touch it and make me cum. I was shaking with desire. "PLEASE CARMEN!" She barely removed any of the tape when Paul said, "Carmen you are dismissed." He pulled his fist out and left me horribly empty and open. My balls were killing me. "NO!" I cried. Carmen giggled and left the room. Paul turned me over on my back and I thought that he was going to remove the tape. I didn't care anymore if it was Carmen or Paul as long as I got to cum. He propped me up into a nearly seated position and tied my arms and legs tightly to the bed posts. I realized I had never seen a four poster bed in a hotel before. Could it be it was brought in just for Paul? Carmen came back into the room this time totally naked. She bent over the foot of the bed with her mouth just above my crotch. Paul got behind her and started fucking her. She was moaning and panting right above my penis but did not even look at it. I wanted those lips to suck me off so badly. Paul fucked her for about fifteen minutes when he finally came. She did not. She left the room quietly with his juices flowing down her legs. He looked me in the eye and said, "I hope you are comfortable because you will be there for the whole week. I am going down to the bar to have a drink. Enjoy yourself." He put on his clothes and flipped on the TV. A pay per view porno was on. He tightened the ropes that bound me to the bed. "Paul, please don't leave me like this." "Don't worry Mike, this is only the beginning." He turned his back to me and left the room. Under His Wing The ants look like they're having a party. I concentrate my gaze on these ants, the cold tile pressed into my cheek, as the monster who I'm supposed to call my father lands blow after blow on my crumpled body. The pain is a series of explosions, and yet I try to pin my gaze and thoughts on the ants as a way to ignore it. I wonder if they're having a good time? If they are, then I salute them, since if I were an ant I would spend every waking moment fearing for my life, knowing that anything can crush you at any time. Not that I don't feel that way now. And yet, it seems like it's about to end soon. My vision is going blurry as my grabs me by the hair and throws me over to the couch. I can barely see him anymore, but I know that the look in his eyes is enraged and crazed. It never ceases to amaze me how liquid can do such things to a human being, turn them into monsters if they consume too much of said liquid. As he backhands me across the face, he's screaming a name, but not mine. My mother's. I treat it like a curse now, how much I look like my mother. Same deep blue doe eyes, same fair skin, same petite figure, same long platinum hair-although this no longer applies. I'd cut my hair in the hopes that it would somehow prevent him from seeing her every time he looks at me during his . . . episodes. It's now messy and shoulder-length, and I'd also dyed it a pastel violet color. As you can obviously tell, that was a very beneficial decision indeed. And so I lie here on this dingy, plaid living room couch in our cooped up apartment, waiting for death to come down and embrace me, take me away from this creature who had once used his arms to hold me rather than to pummel me relentlessly. And for what? It's not even me that he despises, it's her-the woman who one day just up and disappeared, leaving naught but a note that said only three words: I met someone. I was cursed to have been born looking like this woman, and now I have to pay the price. My vision is slipping away from me little by little, and the myriad of pain I feel goes with it. Suddenly it stops completely, and as the darkness slowly consumes my eyes, I catch a glimpse of what look like . . . Feathers? It's the last thing I see before I fall into oblivion. ***** Consciousness toys with me. Greets me one moment and leaves me abruptly the next. The world around me is still a blur every time I open my eyes. Even that task alone is taxing, as if my eyelids weigh thousands of pounds. I feel pain, of course. Pain is always there. But I also feel . . . arms, holding me. Strong arms that could easily shatter me but instead keep me encased in warmth and safety. I also hear powerful, rhythmic whooshing sounds, and I can't place what they are. I don't even have time to contemplate before the darkness swallows me whole once more. ***** When I finally do wake, I'm resting on top of clouds. Well, not really, but the bed beneath me is so white and so soft that it could easily pass as clouds if you close your eyes and just let your body sink into it, which I do. For a moment I just don't bother thinking about anything at all, choosing to enjoy this feeling. Key words: for a moment. My eyes open and I lift myself up to examine my surroundings. It takes a while for my vision to clear, but once it does, I see that I'm in a spacious, clean bedroom. The colors in the room are different shades of white and beige, and the room looks like the master bedroom of a mansion. There's a bookshelf, a sitting area, and even a marble fireplace with ornate, golden motifs. The drapes are closed, but thin slivers of sunlight filter through it. The door is ajar, and the smell of food wafts into the room from outside. I take a whiff of it and it immediately awakens my stomach, making it emit a fierce growl. How in the world did I end up here? The last thing I remember was being beaten near to death by my father, and the overwhelming amount of pain that- Wait. Pain. I suddenly realize that I feel . . . none. With a jolt, I push off the covers and examine my body. I'm wearing a white, knee-length nightgown-whoever had saved me must have changed me, too. But this is not what makes me gasp. What makes me gasp is my skin. Or rather, what isn't present on my skin: bruises. There's nothing. Completely smooth, unharmed, not even a single scar. How is this even possible? A thought crosses my mind. A thought that I think is too stupid to admit out loud: Am I dead? How my body is completely devoid of bruises, how everything is in an ethereal shade of white. Could it be that I'd died, and this is heaven? A part of me wants to laugh out loud at the absurdity of this thought, but another part of me is actually considering it as a possibility. How else can this be explained? If it is indeed true, I just didn't expect heaven to be . . . a bedroom. Call me cliche, but I'd expected vast meadows, angels flying around, rainbows, unicorns, the whole shebang. Although the overwhelming whiteness of my surroundings does have a certain . . . heavenly quality to it. Either that or the owner of the house-the person who'd saved me, I'm assuming-considers white to be their favorite color. "You're awake." As if on cue, I see them-him-now in the doorway. My jaw drops instantly, and I have to force it back up. The young man standing before me is very tall, possibly six-foot-five, give or take. Bronze skin, inky black hair that's cut short and tousles upwards in spikes, and deep gray eyes with flecks of gold in them. His face is chiseled, as if he's a statue of a Greek god come to life, and his form is no different. The long-sleeved V-neck shirt he's wearing does little to accomodate his powerful physique; broad shoulders, a wide chest and arms packed with muscle. I'd never seen someone so incredibly attractive in my life. Not even celebrities or models. Seeing him makes me think the heaven statement might not be so ridiculous after all. He leans against the doorway, and the look on his face makes me both melt and feel a zap of familiarity. His eyes are warm, and the smile on his face is kind and genuine. I suddenly realize that I know this man, somehow. Not him personally, but his appearance. His smile. It had been like a constant presence in my life. I would always catch glimpses of him, but they were just that: glimpses. Each time I try to turn back to where I'd seen him, he would be gone. A logical person would probably think that this is a tad creepy and stalkerish, but it never felt that way to me. It almost felt as if he was simply just . . . watching over me. And the fact that he'd saved me just now seems like solid enough proof. But why, though? Why has he been watching over me all this time, and why did he save me? We don't even know each other. And yet, he looks at me as if he's known me my whole life. "Umm . . . Yeah, I suppose I am," I say weakly. My voice is hoarse, and I clear my throat. He stands there for several heartbeats longer, and then walks towards me. Carefully, I notice, like he's afraid I might back away from him or be afraid of him, when in all honesty there's not even an iota of fear in me. Even though I have no idea who this man is, his presence makes me feel secure. "I'm guessing you want to know what happened?" he asks with a somewhat apologetic smile. His voice is deep and comforting. Hearing it feels like a sip of hot chocolate on a cold winter night. I nod, and he takes a deep breath, biting his lip. He suddenly looks nervous. "Okay, if I try explaining it to you, I'll sound crazy, so I'm going to have to show you first." I furrow my eyebrows, and he adds, "Don't freak out, okay?" . . . Huh? "Why would I freak out?" I ask, confused. With another breath, he closes his eyes. Suddenly, a golden light emits from his back, and out furls massive, milky-white wings. This time when my jaw drops I can't even raise it anymore. He stretches them, making the ivory feathers dance slightly, but then he lets his wings disappear again, seeing my expression of utter shock. "I'm your Guardian," he says. "In my home realm of Etherea right above Earth, some angels take a test to become a Guardian, and I passed mine when I was fourteen. You were the mortal I was assigned to, and at the time, you were eleven." That was when my mother had left, I realize. Exactly ten years ago. "A Guardian's job is to descend to earth and watch over their assigned mortal," he continues. "The higher-ranked ones are mostly charged to protect important public figures and world leaders. We are sworn to do all of this while never revealing ourselves and never being seen. As you have probably realized by now, I . . . I broke that code." His expression is sorrowful, and yet I don't see any regret in his eyes. "I had to. I couldn't sit idly by while your father," he says the word like it's poison on his tongue, the same way I would, "just utterly destroyed you like that. I couldn't let you die. And not because it would cost me my title, but because I . . . I cared too much for you to do that." "But," I interrupt, unable to help myself, "why? You barely know me." He looks deep into my eyes, and even though he's far away, I can't help but let myself drown in his. "When a Guardian fails to do his job, meaning the mortal that they are assigned to dies-excluding dying of old age and natural causes, of course-they are stripped of their title and their wings. They are also banished to the mortal realm for life. However, when your father almost killed you in that moment, I wasn't thinking about any of that. All I truly wanted was your safety, because even though I never got to know you personally, I've watched over you for so long that I felt like I knew you." His words are heartfelt and genuine, as is his gaze. "I know I broke the code by interfering and revealing myself to you, but . . . I don't really care. I've realized that I want to get to know you, and I want to keep you safe without having to hide from you every moment of my life." I feel tears pricking my eyes. I never expected someone to care this much about me, let alone someone who didn't even really know me. "But what's going to happen to you?" I ask, worried. "What's the punishment for breaking the code?" He waves it off. "You don't have to worry about that. The punishment for interference is just being stripped of my title. But the mere fact that I would be able to actually talk and spend time with you is a reward on its own." My heart flutters at his words, but he clears his throat and blushes-actually blushes-while scratching the back of his head, looking down at the floor. "I'm sorry, I don't want to seem too . . . forward. It's just that I've always been so eager to really get to know you. That's why you're probably feeling like you've seen me before, because there were many times where I intentionally showed myself to you, even if they were just for a second or two. It was so that when I actually revealed myself to you, you wouldn't think me a complete stranger." He looks so apologetic all of a sudden, and I smile shyly. "You shouldn't apologize for anything. You . . . you saved my life. You got me away from that monster," I spit out the word, and then ask, "What happened to him, really? The whole thing is a blur to me." "I knocked him unconscious and flew us away from him," he says. "And where are we now?" "We're in the home that my parents had made when they descended here on earth." He's silent for a moment, and then says, "In Paris." "Paris?!" I exclaim, eyes wide. He strides over to the curtains and opens them, revealing a balcony. I squint my eyes in the bright glare of the morning sun. Sure enough, I see the Eiffel Tower looming in the distance. He then approaches me and holds out his hand. I take it and he helps me get out of the bed. His hand is strong and warm against my delicate one. I'd thought I would need the help, but unsurprisingly, I feel fine. Which brings me to my next question. "Why am I completely bruise-free and feel no pain?" "Oh, that's right. I kinda used my magic on you." He chuckles. "Each angel is given a different kind of magic, and Guardians are usually healers." I nod, still letting all of this sink in. I guess I'm glad that he showed me his wings before all these explanations, because otherwise I would have been a lot more skeptical than I am now. After seeing a guy unfurl his huge wings, there's really no room to be skeptical anymore. If he told me unicorns exist, I'd most likely believe him. "You're probably starving," he says with a warm smile as he heads to the door. "I'll wait right outside while you change. Oh, and don't worry about clothes. I managed to take as much as I could of yours from the apartment, and they're in the wardrobe." He gestures to the dresser. "I can take you shopping later if you'd like." His thoughtfulness soothes me, and I can only smile back as he closes the door and lets me change. When I open the wardrobe, I see a few of my favorite clothes hanging in it, along with some undergarments. I blush when I realize that he must have bathed me himself. Tingles spread through me, but not because I'm creeped out by the thought, even though I probably should be. He doesn't seem like someone who would just take advantage of me like that. I shake my head from these thoughts and slip out of the nightgown, once again marveling at my now smooth, untouched skin. I settle for wearing an off-the-shoulder, medium-sleeved gray tunic, skinny jeans, and comfy black ballet flats. I examine myself in the mirror quickly before I go outside. Even though I'm not wearing any makeup, my face somehow still looks fresh. I wonder how he managed to do that. I open the door and he greets me. "Ready for breakfast?" he asks. "Just one more question," I say to him. "I'm sure you already know my name, but wouldn't it be a bit awkward if I still didn't know yours at this point." He laughs softly, and the sound delights me. "That is true. Maybe we should start over." He clears his throat and flashes me a charming grin. "Hi there, I'm Kieran. What's your name?" He holds out a hand. I can't help but let out a chuckle and take it. "Nice to meet you, Kieran. I'm Mirabelle." "Mirabelle," he echoes softly, and reaches down to kiss the back of my hand. I try not to let him see that his lips touching my skin sends tingles throughout every inch of my body. "What a lovely name." After we get the introductions out of the way, he leads me through the hallway and out to the foyer. I realize that my hand is still in his when we walk down the stairs in the big foyer of the mansion. My eyes are wide as I take in the marble walls and glossy wood floors. A huge candelabra hangs from the ceiling right smack dab in the middle. A long, burgundy carpet stretches vertically from the front door and up the stairs, becoming diagonal as it extends to the halls on either side of the second floor where there are an array of doors. I assume the upstairs is reserved for bedrooms, but you never know with mansions. He leads me down the steps and then to the right side of the stairs. The dining room is to my right, themed in dark brown and red colors, while the kitchen I'm surprised to see has a more modern touch to it; sleek in design and themed in pastels. The table is already set, I realize, only two plates of omellettes and two glasses of orange juice. It's a very simplistic breakfast menu, but it still makes my mouth water. "I'm not exactly much of a cook," he says as we move toward the mahogany dining table. "But this was the best possible omelette I could make, so I hope you enjoy." He pulls out a seat for me at the left edge of the table, and I say a soft "thank you" as I sit down. He smiles sits down beside me, at the head of the table. The omellette is delicious, but I try my best not to completely devour it and make a fool of myself in front of him. I sip my glass of orange juice and then glance at him. "So are your parents away? Or do you live here alone?" His eyes turn sad just the tiniest bit. "They passed away, years ago." "Oh . . . I'm sorry." I guess I just assumed that angels were immortal or something. "How did . . . they die, if you don't mind me asking?" "There was war brewing in Etherea at the time. A legion of rebels called the Darkwings launched an attack to one of the training facilities. My mother and father happened to be there, helping out the troops. They were killed in the attack." His voice cracks, but he clears his throat and straightens. "They'd built this house since before I was born, as a place to stay for when there were earthly duties to attend to. When I became a Guardian, they handed over this house to me to live in when I needed to, and also their fortune." "This may not be a very appropriate question, but . . . Angels are only susceptible to death from killing, right?" I ask. "Because I just assumed you were immortal or something." He chuckles softly. "It's alright, I can understand why you would be curious. No, we die of old age as well, but we just have much longer lifespans than humans. The oldest living angel in Etherea is 500 years old." My eyes widen. "He's the emperor. Although, it is probably due to his royal blood. Angelic royalty in Etherea tend to last longer than other angels. The average age when an angel dies is usually around 250." "Wow," I say in awe. It's the only thing I can even think to say at this moment. We chat for the remainder of the hour. He tells me more about Etherea and angel culture, and also about Nephilim-otherwise known as half-bloods, the product of an angel and a human. I'm surprised to learn that human and angel relationships are a lot more common than I would've guessed, and that there are thousands upon thousands of Nephilim on earth today. They are not allowed in Etherea, however. Curious, I then ask him how it would work with human and angel relationships when the human dies of old age much faster. He tells me that most don't usually last that long, but in some cases, the angel goes to Etherea and gives the human they love nectar from a certain rare Etherean flower. It grants the human the same lifespan as the angel, so that they would be able to truly spend a lifetime together. A part of me finds it romantic, but the other part also finds it a bit unappealing. What would you even look like at age 200-ish? I voice this question and he clarifies that the appearances of angels and humans that were given the nectar mostly keep their youth. So when they reach 150, they would look like a middle-aged person, around fifty or forty-five. And at 200 up to 250, they'd be considered elderly and would look seventy or eighty. The conversation soon shifts to more mundane topics, and I'm surprised that he actually enjoys life on earth, and had the time to explore all kinds of earthly pleasures. He tells me that, during times where I would be safe from harm, he'd take that time for himself and take up hobbies. I almost ask him if he'd ever dated or even had . . . other relations . . . with human females-or males-but I don't. I don't even really want to know. I assume with his heart-poundingly beautiful looks, he's had a lot of experience. Oh well, it's not as if I'm completely celibate either. I wouldn't say I'm experienced, but I'm definitely not a prude. We finish our food and then he asks if I'd like to go out. Not in that way, of course. He just means go out as in explore the city, maybe go shopping. I say yes. ***** Before I know it, the days stretch into weeks, which soon stretch out into a whole month. In that time, Kieran and I grew so much closer to each other, and we talked about so many things that the awkwardness between us completely dissipated soon enough. Well, almost. I still can't help but get the jitters every time I'm around him, as if there's a whole flock of butterflies fluttering around in my chest and stomach. Under His Wing Kieran had gone to Etherea on one of the days to visit the Council of Guardians. That was the day he was stripped of his title, but when he came back, he didn't seem too affected by it. "It was just a title," he'd said. "It's not as if they didn't allow me to see you anymore." On the evening of my 22nd birthday, he offers to take me flying. "I dunno, Kieran . . . " I say to him, unsure. He'd technically took me flying before, but I don't think that counted, since I was unconscious most of the time. "Come on," he says playfully, grinning. "I'm not gonna drop you or anything. Don't worry." "What if someone sees us?" "I can easily use a glamouring spell to make us invisible." He steps closer and takes my hand, looking at me with his gray eyes, which are slightly shimmering. "Please? Trust me, you'll love it." I can't say no to that face. I let out a sigh and nod. "Alright, alright." He whoops, and then leads me up to the balcony of my room. When we get there, I see the vast expanse of Paris stretching out before me, the lights of the city glittering beautifully. I'm pretty sure it's going to be much higher than this when we go. I gulp. He senses my fear and smiles warmly at me. "Don't worry, Mira, you'll be fine. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise." His words calm me down, as always, and then he steps toward me. "I'm gonna carry you now, okay?" I feel my pulse picking up, and nod. He scoops me up as if I weigh nothing at all, one arm wrapped around me and the other under my knees. My right arm is around his neck, while the other rests on his powerful chest. My cheek does the same. I can't help but sink into his arms, letting his warmth and scent envelop me. His wings appear. "Ready?" he asks in a soft voice, and I hear the rumble in his chest when he speaks. I wordlessly nod again. His wings start to beat slowly, and his feet leave the ground. We ascend, higher and higher and higher. And then we're off. His wings beat powerfully as the wind rushes at us. "Don't go too fast!" I cry out, shutting my eyes tightly and burying my face into his chest, afraid to even glance down. "Mira, this isn't even close to too fast!" he replies, sounding excited and euphoric. We soar higher, and while he lets out a "woohoo!", I'm screaming and clutching tightly onto him. Soon, however, he slows down. "Mira, look," he whispers. I immediately shake my head, and he chuckles. "Trust me, it's okay. Just look." Hesitantly, I lift my face from his chest and gasp. The twinkling lights of the city are beautiful from this view. "So, I guess this is what it feels like to fly," I say softly, my voice still shaky. "Although at least you don't have to fear for your life while doing it." "Neither do you," he says, a smile in his voice as he holds me closer to him. "I'm not letting you fall." His words make me snuggle closer to him, my heart full as he turns around and heads back to the house. When we land on the balcony, he sets me down gently. I almost want to protest that I wanted him to keep holding me, but don't. He lets his wings vanish, and we stay there for a moment, silently looking at each other, before I break the gaze and clear my throat. "Wanna just order pizza for dinner?" He grins. "Yeah, that sounds great." ***** We end up on the couch, finishing up the pizza and our Adventure Time marathon. We talked and debated and laughed until it felt like hours, and eventually I found myself curled up against him on the couch, his strong arm wrapped around me. I suppose it would be considered a bit too intimate, but neither of us minded. "I got you a present," he says finally, breaking our comfortable silence. I lift my cheek from his chest, looking up at him with wide eyes. "I told you you shouldn't have!" "Couldn't resist." He grins and pulls out something from his pocket. A beautiful jewelry case, decorated with sparkling golden swirls. He hands it to me. "Open it," he says. I do, and am greeted by the sight of a breathtaking amethyst necklace in the shape of a butterfly. I gasp softly as I lift the necklace. "Kieran, I . . . " I trail off, seeing the necklace glimmer in the dim light of the living room. "It was my mother's," he says softly. "While I was in Etherea, I dropped by our old home, and decided to take it with me. I want you to have it." "I don't know, Kieran, I-" He holds up his hand to halt my words, his smile gentle. "Nope. I'm giving it to you, whether you like it or not?" "Are you kidding me? I love it! You know I'm a sucker for butterflies." He chuckles. "That's exactly why I thought it would be perfect for you." I put the necklace on, and then give him an appreciative look. "Thank you so much, Kieran. For you to give me something that's personal to you is just . . . " "It's the least I could do," he says, his eyes never leaving mine. "I've never been as close to someone as I am with you now." He leans closer to me and traces my cheek with his fingers ever so gently. "As cheesy as it may sound, I feel . . . connected to you in some way. And not just because I was your Guardian. I feel like that was just a way for us to meet. But now that I have known you, and you me, I-" I'm not sure what comes over me. I place my finger on his lips and shake my head, and then that finger soon becomes my lips. The kiss is soft for a while as I savor the taste and feel of his lips, but then it quickly deepens as I wrap my arms around his neck and he wraps his around my waist. It doesn't take long for the kiss to intensify, and he lifts me up onto his lap so that I'm now straddling him. I tilt my head back and let out a soft gasp as he starts kissing me down my neck, his hands kneading my ass. "God, I want you, Mira," he rumbles softly against my neck, and then abruptly lifts me up. I gasp, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries me up the stairs and continues kissing my neck, then back up to my lips. My hands reach up and I bury my fingers into his hair, mussing it up even further. He kicks open the door to his room, and I realize I've never been in here before. It doesn't even cross my mind to examine it, though, since all I want and all I can think about right now is him. Just him. He sets me down on the bed so that his massive form rests on top of me. He slides my shirt over my head and starts kissing down my neck, his hands moving to my back to unclip my bra. I start pulling his shirt up too, suddenly angry that clothes are still on our bodies, because at this moment they serve no purpose other than being barriers. He lets me pull his shirt off over his head and I take a minute to gaze in awe at his powerfully built torso. But only a moment, because I don't just want to stare, I want to feel. I pull him down and hold his bare body against me, moaning at the sensation of being skin-to-skin with him, even though neither of us are fully nude yet. My hands explore his big, muscular arms, his wide pectorals and his hard, six-pack abs. Good god, he feels so good against me. My bra comes off, and he starts to fondle and massage my round breasts softly. "You're so beautiful," he whispers before leaning down and sucking on each nipple. I cling onto him and whimper softly as he does this, shivering at the heavenly feeling. His mouth moves further down my chest, past my stomach, and then he slides my jeans off, my panties along with it. I'm now fully nude underneath him, and I instinctively close my legs, blushing. He chuckles warmly. "Mira, it's okay. I wanna make you feel good . . . " His hands slide down my thighs, and yet he doesn't pry them open, waiting for me to do it. After a moment, I spread my legs for him, revealing my already soaked pussy lips. He starts kissing the inside of my thigh, moving up up up, until his mouth is right in front of my slit. He just breathes softly against it, but that alone is enough to set me ablaze. And then. And then, his tongue touches the pink folds, and I nearly lose control. How is it that even the slightest touch from him ignites me? His tongue starts to explore up and down my slit before it enters me and after that he wastes no time in burying his face between my thighs and eating me out, growling against my pussy from time to time as he does. My legs on his shoulders twitches, and I arch my back, crying out his name and clutching his hair tightly. He puts one finger in, then two, all the while still fiercely licking and slurping. He starts thrusting his fingers in and out of me hard and fast and I. Can't. Breathe. I burst, my body convulsing against him. He laps up my juices, not stopping what he's doing even for a second. When he does stop, I see him rise. He licks his lips that are covered with my juices, and then his hands reach down to unbelt his jeans. When they come off, my eyes widen at the massive bulge underneath his boxers. They come off. Out pops his huge shaft, hard and pointing right at me. It must be more or less twelve inches in length, and perhaps five in girth. I can't even begin to imagine how such a thing could fit inside me. It's formed just as powerfully as the rest of him is. As his massive form towers before me, he oozes a strong aura of masculinity and maleness that makes me tremble slightly. He then reaches down and kisses me ever so softly, and I feel the tip of his giant cock rubbing up against my entrance. "Let me know if it hurts, okay?" he whispers gently, holding me close to him and placing a tender kiss on my collarbone. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck and nod, spreading my legs for him. "I'll go as slow as you want me to, I promise," he assures me. "I just want to make you feel good, Mira . . . " He shifts above me and positions himself, the broad head of his phallus nudging me lightly. Then, slowly but surely, he enters. My mouth opens in a wide "O" as even just the head of his shaft alone stretches me widely. He moves at a snail's pace as he lets his cock sink deeper into me, until he's halfway in. "Fuck, you're so tight, love . . . " he growls softly into my neck. "Hang on . . . " His powerful cock pulses in me as he starts pushing in and out, the moist walls of my pussy helping it smoothen the process. Each time he thrusts in, more and more inches of his shaft goes into me. And then, he plunges all the way into me, making me jolt and dig my nails into his skin. He stays there for a moment, completely bottomed out, and his strong body trembles against me. "Am I hurting you?" he asks, his eyes looking at me with a pinch of worry and concern through the deep fog of lust in them. I shake my head. I haven't felt pleasure this intense in my life. He continues in a steady rhythm, not too slow and not too fast. Until I ask him in a strangled whimper to go faster, harder. He obliges, starting to fuck me in earnest, and my moans become louder, mingling with his low growls. He also starts losing control eventually, thrusting into me hard and deep, the slapping sound of our bodies accompanying our voices. "That's it, Mira, that's it . . . " he whispers huskily, nibbling my neck as he continues his relentless pounding. "Cum for me . . . " My walls constrict against his shaft as it throbs and pulses inside me. I try my best to hold it in, but to no avail. Once again, I'm attacked by another vicious orgasm that leaves my body spasming underneath him, holding onto him for dear life. He continues his pounding, and I'm now begging him to stop, but I don't really mean it at all. By begging him to stop, I'm actually begging him to do the exact opposite, and he knows that too, so once again he does just that. The pleasure and ecstasy overwhelms me so much that I nearly black out. Soon his cock swells heavily inside me, until the dam bursts for him also several thrusts later. His warm seed rushes into me, torrent after torrent, some of it overflowing and leaking out of my entrance. He lets out growls of pleasure and his body violently shudders above me. I am a ragdoll in his arms, and he soon deflates as well, his lips finding mine once more. ***** It didn't end there. We spent the rest of the night exploring each other's bodies, until we both lost track of how many intense orgasms came and went. Until we were panting so hard that I almost had an asthma attack. Now, I lie against his chest, curled up against his muscled torso with his arm protectively wrapped around me. I bury my face into his chest and breathe in his familiar masculine scent. He strokes my hair softly, kissing the top of my head. "So we should totally do this more often," I say, my voice hoarse from all the screaming he'd made me do. He laughs softly, his chest rumbling as he does. "We can do this any time you want," He whispers. "I'm all yours. I always have been." An overwhelming sense of happiness washes over me. After suffering for so long, I'd never expected to be here right now, in the arms of someone who truly cares for me in such a way. It almost makes me want to burst into tears. I keep a tight hold on him for a long moment, then lift my head up to meet his eyes. I see that they're closed, however. He's sleeping, his chest rising and falling steadily. I smile at the peacefulness of his face as he sleeps, and kiss his cheek softly. I remember when I had first arrived here I'd thought I was in heaven, and at the time I thought the notion was crazy. But now I realize I was right. He is my heaven. Under His Wing Ch. 02 I was confused and traumatized. I thought I had such a great future with this company and Paul was a great boss that believed in me. But now nothing made sense. Paul had drugged, bound and humiliated me in ways he had never imagined. It was not over yet. Still tied to the bed and scared I was averting my eyes to the pornography playing on the hotel television. The door to the adjoining room was slightly ajar and I could hear Carmen moving around inside her room. I wanted to call to her but remembered how she seemed to revel in this humiliation and add to it. That was a good reason not to call to her but it was also the reason I wanted her. As she shuffled around in her room it became obvious that she was getting ready to go out. I could hear a blow dryer and the sound of a brush going through her thick brown hair. I had never really noticed her before and now she was all he could think about. I wanted her to come in and remove the bonds of my penis. I wanted her to suck me off until I forgot what horrible things Paul had done. I wanted to cum all over this woman. I wanted her mouth, pussy and ass and I couldn't stand it. The blow dryer ceased it roar and I could smell the sweet sent of her perfume. I whispered her name to myself, "Carmen." I wanted so badly to yell it out. I started chanting it over and over again softly until suddenly I surprised myself and called it out loudly. "Carmen!" She became very quiet and still. My feet went cold with fear as he heard her footsteps approaching the room. She stood at the threshold wearing a white lacy slip and was drinking a glass of wine. "Can I help you sir?" It seemed so odd for a woman I had worked with for five months was now calling me sir and asking if I needed assistance as I lay helplessly bound to a bed. "Just help me please Carmen." She swiftly moved around the bed and reached for the duct tape. Locating the end she ripped it off mercilessly. I screamed in pain. I asked her what was happening to me and why. She casually said, "I guess you didn't read the fine print at the bottom of your contract. You signed up as an independent concultant/salesperson so you had to sign a contract. Correct? Well take a good look at that contract when you get a chance. She untied me from the bed and I still mad with lust. I grabbed her and threw her down on the bed and ripped the slip right off of her. She was not wearing any panties under that slip and I was just happy not to have to tear up one more item of her clothing to get to her cunt. I wanted her and I hated her. I was aroused and I was confused and I was pissed off. Violently I threw myself on top of her. Squeezing her wrists so tightly that she was losing circulation in her hands I held her down to the bed. With my knees I pushed her legs apart. My cock was stiffer than it had ever been and it felt like a deadly weapon. She fought against my attack and began screaming for me to stop and that just made me more angry. I turned her over and spread her legs apart revealing her tight anus. I put the head of my cock against the whole and with no lube whatsoever I shoved my cock in mercilessly in one quick jab. Terrifying screams were coming out of her so I covered her head with a pillow as I continued to torture her ass. "Does that feel good Carmen? Should I take pictures?" She was still screaming and saying something about how this violates the contract...bla bla bla... I reached under her and began stroking her clit. She began to moan and move to meet the strokes. She seemed to be enjoying it. "Yes," she moaned. "I am going to cum soon. Keep it up baby." "No!" I told her harshly removing my hand from her swollen clit. "Only me!" I was mad with power, lust and anger and I had never felt so insane in my entire life. My body began to shake all over as I had the most intense orgasm ever. I collapsed on top of Carmen panting and sweating. She lay under me still and sobbing. "You are going to regret this," she said. My cock hadn't even begun to soften in her tight ass when I heard the door knob turn. The door opened and Paul was standing in the doorway with horrible anger in his eyes.