Work Text:
Husk slumps in his usual spot behind the bar, the dim red glow of Hell filtering through the windows. It's late—or what passes for late in this shithole—and the lobby is empty, everyone else off doing whatever the fuck they do to pretend they're redeeming themselves or others. His wings twitch irritably as he nurses a bottle of cheap booze, the kind that burns going down but doesn't quite numb the ache in his chest. That ache has a name: Angel Dust. Husk's in love with him, has been for longer than he'd admit to anyone, least of all himself. But he's never said it, never crossed that line. Angel's got enough chains on him without Husk adding his own pathetic feelings to the mix.
That stubborn idiot convinced himself he's irredeemable, a ticking bomb as long as Val holds his soul, so he slinked back to the Vee Tower like a whipped dog. Husk's gut churns at the memory. If only he had been able to stop him.
His phone buzzes on the counter, jolting him from his brooding. He glances at the screen—unknown number, but the preview message makes his fur stand on end:
"A little gift for you, pussycat. Enjoy the show. -Val"
Attached is a video file. Husk's stomach twists. He shouldn't open it. He knows it's bait from that sadistic piece of shit.
He should delete it, block the number, smash the phone.
He should… He knows curiosity killed the cat, but his thumb hovers over the screen. Then taps play.
Husk's breath catches as the video loads, the screen filling with the garish pink and red hues of Valentino's studio. The camera pans over Angel Dust, suspended in the air by those signature red smoke chains wrapping around all six of his arms, pulling them taut above his head and to his back. His fluffy white and pink fur gleams under the studio lights, his body completely exposed except for those thigh-high black boots hugging his long legs. Angel's feet barely touch the floor, toes scraping lightly as he shifts, his lithe form stretched out like a sacrificial offering. He's naked, vulnerably so, his chest heaving with shallow breaths, those mismatched eyes half-lidded in what looks like bored resignation.
Valentino saunters into frame, towering over Angel. He's dressed in white pants and a pink shirt unbuttoned enough to show off his chest, his massive wings draped behind him, fluttering slightly with each step. One of his hands fiddles with his phone, adjusting the cameras—Husk notices the angle shift subtly, zooming in on Angel's face for a moment before pulling back to capture the full scene. The overlord's grin is all teeth, sharp and predatory, as he circles Angel slowly, like a shark scenting blood.
"Look at you, mi angelito," Val purrs, his voice smooth and venomous through the phone's speakers. One hand reaches out, trailing long fingers down Angel's side, groping the curve of his hip. Angel doesn't flinch; if anything, he arches into it a bit, his body conditioned to chase the touch despite the annoyance flickering across his face.
"Yeah, yeah, get on with it, Val," Angel snaps back, rolling his eyes even as his body responds. "This position's killin' my shoulders. Ya really couldn’t go with something more comfortable? A bed, maybe? I feel like a fuckin’ pretzel.” He tugs at the chains experimentally, his boots scraping the floor as he tries to find better footing, but the red smoke holds him firm.
Husk's claws gouge deeper into the wooden bar top, splintering it slightly. His wings flare out in agitation, feathers rustling. This is fucked up. He’s relieved to see that Angel isn’t hurt, but it’s like Angel’s used to this shit, and that makes Husk's blood boil. Val's treating him like property, and he's just... going along? But goddamn, the sight of him like that, stretched out and exposed, all those pretty pink markings and freckles scattered across his fur, those boots accentuating the length of his legs... Husk feels a shameful stir in his pants, his cock twitching to life. He shifts on his stool, trying to ignore it, but his eyes are locked on the screen.
Val chuckles, low and mocking, his hand sliding up to thread Angel's chest fluff, pinching the nipple hard enough to make Angel gasp. "Oh, baby, always such a whiny brat. Don’t you know that tonight is special?”
He presses his chest against Angel's shoulders as one of his lower hands snakes around Angel's waist, pulling him closer until Angel's ass nestles against Val's crotch. He pulls up one leg, and a red chain emerges to keep it firmly in place. Angel's pussy is on full display now, the soft, pink folds already glistening with arousal under the harsh lights, puffy and inviting, a small bulge protruding above it.
One of Val’s hands dips between Angel's thighs, fingers tracing the outer lips of his pussy, teasing the glistening folds without penetrating, just brushing the sensitive edges enough to make Angel's breath hitch. The touch is light at first, a feather-light drag that parts the slick flesh, revealing the inner pinkness that's already flushing deeper with blood. Angel moans softly, a breathy whimper, as he leans further into the touch, his head lolling back against Val's shoulder, eyes fluttering. His thighs quiver, the black boots creaking faintly as his muscles tense, trying to spread wider despite the precarious balance.
Husk's breath comes in shallow pants now, his eyes glued to the screen as Val's fingers dance over Angel's exposed pussy, the camera capturing every glistening detail in that unforgiving 8K clarity. The way those soft, pink folds part under the teasing touch, slick already coating Val's digits—it's obscene, wrong, but Husk can't tear his gaze away. That breathy moan from Angel hits him like a shot of whiskey straight to the veins, surging heat straight to his groin. His cock strains against his pants, fully hard now, the barbed length throbbing with unwelcome need. Fuck, Legs, you're killin' me here. Husk's hand drifts down, palming himself through the rough fabric of his trousers, the pressure a temporary relief that only stokes the fire. He squeezes, feeling the ridges of his barbs press back against his palm, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He shouldn't be doing this—shouldn't be getting off on seeing Angel like this—but the way Angel leans back into Val, that vulnerable arch of his body, it's twisting Husk up inside.
Val hums amusedly. "Mmm, look at you," Val coos, his voice dripping with mock affection as he nuzzles into Angel's neck, sharp teeth grazing the fur there. "You’re so pretty like this, all strung up and dripping for me. Your body is just begging for attention. So wet already, and I've barely started. You're such a perfect little slut, Angie."
Angel whimpers again, hips rocking subtly into Val's hand as those fingers press firmer, one digit finally dipping inside the tight heat of his pussy—slow, shallow thrusts that make wet, squelching sounds. The inner walls flutter visibly around the intrusion, more slick oozing out to coat Val's knuckles, dripping down Angel's inner thigh in a shiny trail that catches the light.
Angel's breath hitches, his mismatched eyes glazing over as he grinds back, ass pressing firmer against Val's crotch, feeling the growing bulge there. "F-fuck, Val... yeah, like that," he murmurs.
Val's fingers delve deeper, two now scissoring inside Angel's pussy, stretching the slick channel with deliberate curls that brush against his sensitive spot, making Angel's legs buckle slightly, the chain holding one leg up rattling softly. His free hand slides up from behind, thumb pressing just above Angel's folds, rubbing in firm circles to coax out a retractable penis. The sheath parts as the small flushed shaft emerges inch by inch. Val wraps his long fingers around it, jerking it in slow, teasing strokes that match the rhythm of his fingering, thumb smearing the precum over the head. Angel gasps, his body trembling, pussy clenching greedily around the invading digits as fresh arousal gushes out, soaking Val's hand.
"Oh, baby, you're so responsive tonight," Val praises as he pumps his fingers faster, the wet sounds growing louder, more obscene. "That little cock of yours pops out so eager, doesn't it? But I really need you to ask me nicely what's so special about tonight, Angel cakes.”
Angel's moans grow louder, breathy and broken, his head lolling fully back against Val's shoulder. "Ahh—shit, Val, don't stop... fuck, that feels good," he pants. "Alright—what's... what's different about tonight?”
Val laughs and slows his movements just enough to edge Angel, fingers stilling deep inside that clenching heat, thumb pressing hard on the underside of the small penis to keep it throbbing but denied. The camera zooms in subtly—Val tapping his phone again—focusing on Angel's face, flushed and desperate, then panning down to the mess between his legs: pussy stretched around those fingers, slick dripping in rivulets, penis twitching in Val's grip. "That's my good boy. Always so curious.” The camera zooms out again, showing the entire scene. “Tonight's special because I'm making this for someone special. I want him to see what a needy, dripping whore you really are. Why don’t you admit that for Daddy, baby?”
Angel squirms in the chains, his body betraying him as Val's fingers remain buried deep in his pussy, unmoving now, a cruel tease that leaves him clenching around them desperately. His small penis throbs in Val's grip, the head glistening with precum, but the moth demon's thumb just presses down, denying any friction. Angel's chest heaves, his fur matted with sweat under the hot studio lights, and he bites his lower lip, his sharp gold tooth glinting.
"Okay, Daddy. I'm... I'm a needy, drippin' whore," he admits through gritted teeth. "Happy now? Just—fuck, Val, move already. I admitted it, ya sadistic prick."
Val's grin widens as he resumes his rhythm—fingers pumping slow and deep into Angel's sopping pussy, the squelching sounds echoing obscenely in the video. His other hand strokes Angel's penis with firm, twisting pulls, coaxing more whimpers from the spider demon. "That's right, baby. Say it louder for the camera. Tell me what you are."
Angel's eyes flutter shut for a moment, hips bucking involuntarily into the touch. "I'm a needy, drippin' whore," he repeats, louder this time, voice cracking on the last word as Val's fingers curl just right, brushing that sweet spot inside him. His pussy walls flutter wildly, more slick gushing out to coat Val's wrist.
"Good boy," Val purrs, leaning in to nip at Angel's earlobe. "And this little show? It's all for your precious kittycat. That mutt is gonna love seeing you like this, mi angelito. Writhing and begging like the slut you are."
Angel's mismatched eyes snap open wide, filling with panic. "W-what? No—Val, ya can't! Don't send this to him!"
He thrashes in the chains, all six arms straining against the red smoke, his boots scraping frantically against the floor as he tries to twist away. The chains rattle loudly, holding him firm, but his body betrays him—his pussy clenches tighter around Val's fingers, a fresh wave of arousal flooding out despite the horror on his face. "Please, Valentino, Val, please, not Husk. He—he don't need to see this shit. I'll do anythin', just... fuck, stop!"
Husk's world narrows to the screen, rage boiling in his veins. That motherfucker. He wants to smash through the phone, storm the Vee Tower, and rip Val's wings off one by one. But beneath the fury, that shameful heat pulses stronger. Angel's panic, the way he begs not for himself but to protect Husk's image of him. It's heartbreaking, and yet the sight of him struggling, body arched and exposed, pussy dripping even as he fights... it sends a jolt straight to Husk's cock. He's rock hard, the length straining painfully against his zipper. Fuck this. Husk's hand shakes as he undoes his fly, freeing his cock with a low hiss. It's thick and ridged, barbs soft but prominent, already leaking precum from the tip. He spits into his palm and wraps it around his shaft, slicking himself up with rough strokes. The sensation makes him groan, hips bucking into his fist as he watches, entranced.
Val laughs as he pins Angel closer against his body, his lower hands gripping the spider's hips to hold him still. "Oh, but I can, Angie. And I will. You say you don’t want it, but your body's honest, isn't it? This tight little pussy's squeezing me so hard, begging for more even while you whine." He pumps his fingers faster, three now stretching Angel wide. "You like the idea, don't you? That mangy stray watching this, and seeing how wet you get for me. Maybe he's stroking that fat cat cock right now, thinking about sliding into this sloppy hole after I'm done."
Angel shakes his head wildly, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, but his hips betray him, grinding down onto Val's fingers. "N-no! Shut up, Val! He ain’t like that! He wouldn't—ahh, fuck!"
A particularly deep thrust makes him cry out, his pussy spasming as Val's fingers scissor and curl relentlessly, hitting that bundle of nerves over and over. His small penis jerks in Val's hand, the strokes speeding up to match, thumb swirling over the sensitive head.
"Imagine it, baby," Val taunts against Angel's ear. "Gato's eyes on you, getting harder with every moan. He'd see how much you love this, how you're made for it. Cum for me now, and I'll make sure he gets the full view of your pretty face when you break."
Husk's strokes falter for a second, his breath ragged as he watches Angel unravel. The panic in those eyes, the way his body fights but surrenders—it's tearing Husk apart. He hates Valentino, hates himself more for not stopping this, for getting off on it. But he can't stop, his hand flying over his cock now, slick with spit and precum. Each twist of his wrist mirrors Val's motions, imagining it's Angel's heat wrapped around him instead. His balls tighten, pressure building, but he holds back, growling low. Not yet... gotta see you cum first, Legs.
Angel's resistance crumbles under the assault, his moans turning desperate, broken. "Val—please, I can't—oh god, don't stop!"
His body tenses, pussy clamping down as the orgasm crashes over him. He cums hard, slick squirting out around Val's fingers in hot gushes, soaking the moth's hand. His penis pulses in Val's grip, shooting thin ropes of cum, his whole frame shuddering in the chains. Tears streak his face as he sobs through the pleasure. "F-fuck... Whiskers, I'm sorry..."
Val doesn't stop, milking every last tremor from Angel's body, fingers still pumping through the aftershocks until Angel sags in the chains, panting and spent. "That's one, baby. Such a good little whore for the camera." He pulls his fingers free, holding them up to show the glistening mess before smearing it across Angel's cheek and lips. The camera pans back, courtesy of another phone tap, capturing Angel's wrecked state—pussy twitching and leaking, penis retracting slightly but still half-hard, face flushed with shame and bliss.
Husk's cock throbs in his hand as he slows his strokes, edging himself. Seeing Angel cum like that—forced, vulnerable, beautiful—it's too much. His free hand grips the bar edge, claws embedding deep, as a wave of disgust crashes over him. This is wrong. He's perverted for enjoying this. But the ache in his chest, the love twisted into this dark need... he can't look away.
Val isn't done. He steps back slightly, one hand undoing his white pants just enough to free his massive cock. It’s as thick as Angel's forearm, veined and pierced, golden barbs glinting under the lights. "Time for the main event, amorcito. Gonna have to give your amor a little more to jerk off to."
Angel whimpers, still catching his breath, but his eyes widen at the sight of Val's cock. "Val, wait—I just came, gimme a sec..." But there's no fight left in his voice, just resignation mixed with the lingering arousal.
Husk's grip tightens on his own cock as he watches Val position himself. The cat demon's breath is ragged, chest tight with the toxic brew of rage and lust. That bastard's cock is huge, and the way Angel's eyes flicker with both fear and lust makes Husk want to roar, to shatter the screen. But fuck, the vulnerability in Angel's posture, those long legs trembling in their boots, the pink flush on his cheeks... it's got Husk stroking harder, as he imagines what plunging into that cunt would feel like. Shame coils in his gut, but he can't stop; he doesn't want to stop.
Val ignores Angel’s plea entirely, gripping his hips with two of his lower hands to hold him steady as he lines up the broad head of his cock with Angel's swollen pussy. The folds are puffy and glistening, still sensitive from the fingering, and Val teases for a moment—rubbing the tip up and down the slit, coating himself in Angel's wetness. Then, with one brutal shove, Val thrusts in, burying half his monstrous length in a single go. Angel screams out, the sound raw, a mix of pain and unwanted pleasure as his pussy stretches impossibly wide around the girth.
"Fuuuck—Val, it's too big, slow down!" Angel cries, his voice breaking, tears spilling anew as his body arches in the chains. But even as he protests, his hips twitch forward instinctively, chasing the fullness despite the burn.
"Take it, whore," Val growls as he snaps his hips forward again, sinking deeper until he's fully sheathed, balls pressed flush against Angel's ass. The stretch creates a visible bulge in Angel's slim abdomen, a lewd distension that presses outward with each inch, outlining the shape of Val's cock buried deep inside. Val's hand slides up to press on it, feeling himself through the fur and flesh, and he laughs darkly. "Fuck, I love sliding my cock in your cunt. Such a perfect little cocksleeve. This is what you were fucking made for."
Husk's eyes lock on that bulge, transfixed, his strokes faltering for a heartbeat before speeding up, rough and desperate. It's grotesque, wrong—seeing Angel distorted like that, impaled and helpless—but goddamn, it's hot, the way his body molds around Val.
Husk spits again into his palm, slicking his cock further, the wet sounds mirroring the ones from the video as he imagines it's him causing that bulge, him making Angel cry out like that. His barbs catching on Angel’s walls, heightening the sensation for them both. A guttural growl escapes him as he thinks about him just taking what he needs.
Val starts pounding into Angel's pussy with force, the wet slaps almost hypnotic, each thrust making the belly bulge pulse and reform, slick gushing out around his cock with every withdrawal. The piercings rake along Angel's walls, the golden bars stimulating every inch, forcing moans from the spider demon that start pained but shift viciously to pleasure as his body adjusts, hips rocking back despite the overstimulation.
"Yeah, that's it. Fuck back on me, baby," Val moans, his pink shirt clinging to his chest with sweat, one free hand reaching around to jerk Angel's small penis back to full hardness, the shaft emerging fully again under the coaxing strokes, thumb swirling over the slick head. His other lower hand gropes Angel's ass, squeezing the plush cheeks before dipping lower. His finger circles the tight pucker of his asshole, teasing the rim with Angel's own dripping slick.
Angel's broken moans fill the air, his head lolling back as the dual sensations overwhelm him. "Ahh—Val, shit, not there too..." But his ass clenches invitingly, and Val pushes a finger in, slick from the overflow of pussy juices, stretching the ring of muscle while he continues to hammer into the sopping heat above. The finger curls, probing deep, syncing with his thrusts, Angel’s pussy clamping down harder around the cock.
"Bet that cat wishes he was here," Val continues, his voice dripping with mockery as he adds a second finger to Angel's ass, scissoring them wide, preparing him. "Stuffing your pretty mouth while I ruin this hole. Or maybe he'd take your ass while I keep pounding this pussy. Your gato's probably dreaming about it right now, cumming all over himself watching you get wrecked."
Husk's imagination runs wild at the words, pushing away his shame as he pictures it, claiming Angel, drawing out those moans. His hand flies faster, twisting at the base where his barbs are most sensitive, precum leaking copiously now. It's sick, but the heat builds, coiling tight in his balls.
Val fucks Angel like that for what feels like an eternity to Husk. He’s relentless, fingers plunging deeper into Angel's ass, jerking his penis in time, the belly bulge a constant, obscene visualization of the violation. Angel's resistance melts away, his body surrendering fully, moans turning wanton as slick squelches accompany every movement.
Then, with a wicked grin, Val pulls out of Angel's pussy abruptly, his cock shining with a thick coating of Angel's wetness, the bulge in Angel's belly deflating, making the spider whimper at the sudden emptiness.
"Don’t worry, baby, I’m not done yet," Val says, slicking his fingers one last time in the gushing mess of Angel's pussy before withdrawing them too. He uses the soaked digits to lube his cock further, smearing Angel's juices along the length, the golden piercings gleaming with it. Then he shifts, pressing the blunt head against Angel's now-prepped ass.
"Now for the fun part." He thrusts in slower this time, savoring the tightness as the ring stretches around his girth, the piercings catching and dragging, inch by torturous inch until he's buried to the hilt again.
Angel writhes, overwhelmed, babbling incoherently. "Val—too much—ahh, fuck, it's splittin' me!" His ass clenches around the intrusion, the burn intense but morphing into pleasure as Val's fingers plunge back into his empty pussy, scissoring deep and curling against that sweet spot, while his other hand resumes stroking the small penis with firm, twisting pulls.
Husk watches it all, his own cock throbbing painfully as he edges himself, hand slowing to match Val's deliberate pace. The way Angel's ass swallows that monster, the dual penetration of fingers and cock. It's filthy, degrading, and Husk hates how it turns him on, his free claws digging into his thigh to ground himself in the self-loathing.
As Angel nears his second peak, body trembling violently in the chains, Val slows everything to a torturous crawl. His fingers curl just short of that sweet spot in his pussy, strokes on his penis feather-light and teasing, cock grinding deep in his ass without thrusting.
"Admit it, baby," Val hisses, leaning in to bite at Angel's neck, drawing a bead of blood that he licks away. "You're too broken for love. That fleabag could only ever want you like this. You're just a little fucktoy, good for nothing but getting used, stretched, and filled like the worthless slut you are. Tell him!"
Angel fights it longer this time, shaking his head wildly, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. "N-no... I ain't... fuck, Val, please! Don't make me say it!"
His body betrays him, ass milking the cock desperately, pussy fluttering on the fingers, penis twitching and leaking in Val's grip. But the denial holds, even as Val edges him mercilessly, pulling back every time Angel gets close.
"Say it, or I stop forever," Val threatens, stilling completely, his cock throbbing inside Angel's ass, fingers buried but unmoving, hand loose around the shaft.
The frustration builds, Angel's hips bucking futilely as sobs wrack his frame. "I'm... I'm too broken for love," he finally chokes out, voice shattering. "Can't be loved... nobody could love a mess like me. Only good for this—bein' used like a fucktoy, stretched and fucked and ruined. Please, Val—let me cum! I need it, I fuckin' need you!”
Val's eyes gleam with victory, his hips snapping back into motion—pounding Angel's ass with renewed brutality. His fingers thrust deep into the pussy, three now, curling relentlessly against that sweet spot. The hand on Angel's penis tightens, jerking it roughly, thumb digging into the slit to milk more precum, twisting at the base where the retractable shaft meets his body.
"That's my good little toy," Val purrs, one upper hand gripping Angel's throat to tilt his head back, forcing him to arch further. "You’re so beautiful when you break. Bet the kitty would agree if he saw this, huh? Maybe he'd want a piece, join in, and double-stuff you like the whore you admit you are." He ramps up, fucking harder, fingers slamming, hand flying.
Val's sadistic grin widens as he slows his thrusts just enough to focus on his hand buried in Angel's pussy. The three fingers stretch the pink walls wide, slick gushing out with every curl, but it's not enough for him.
"Let's show that litter-licker how full you can get," Val chuckles as he presses his thumb against the already taut entrance. He twists and pushes, forcing it in alongside the others, the stretch burning as Angel's pussy yields to the full width of his hand.
Angel cries out sharply, his body jolting in the chains, all six arms straining futilely against the red smoke. "Val—fuck, no! That's too much, ya gonna tear me apart!" His mismatched eyes widen in a mix of panic and overwhelming sensation, tears spilling faster as the hand sinks deeper, inch by agonizing inch, past the knuckles until Val's wrist is flush against the puffy, abused folds.
The fullness is obscene, his pussy clenching desperately around the intrusion, fresh waves of fluid squirting out in protest, soaking Val's arm and dripping to the floor. But beneath the pain, pleasure surges. His inner walls flutter wildly, his legs tremble violently, and his small penis twitches harder in Val's grip. "Ahh—shit, it's... it's fillin' me up so good!”
Husk groans as he watches Val's entire hand disappear into Angel's pussy, the bulge in his abdomen distorting even further from the dual assault of cock in ass and fist in cunt. It's monstrous, degrading. But seeing Angel stuffed like that, stretched beyond limits, his body betraying him with those involuntary moans, is making his head dizzy with desire.
Husk's claws dig deeper into his thigh, drawing blood, the self-hatred twisting like a knife, but fuck, it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He continues stroking, slower now, imagining his own hand in Angel’s hole. "Goddamn it, Legs... you're takin' it all," he mutters through gritted teeth, hating how turned on he is, his cock leaking more as he edges closer to the brink.
The obscene stretch, the fullness, Val’s words—it almost makes Angel cum, but Val isn't satisfied yet. He leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over Angel's ear as he slows just enough to draw it out, teasing the edge. "Now, thank him, whore. Thank your precious kitty for jerkin' off to this. Beg him to cum for you. Make it loud, for the camera, baby. Make him blow his load watching you get wrecked."
Angel's face crumples in humiliation, fresh tears spilling, but his body is on fire, desperate for release. He gasps, his voice hoarse and broken, staring right into the lens as if Husk is there. "Th-thank you, Husk... for jerkin' off to me... to this fucked-up mess. Please—cum for me, Whiskers. Cum watchin' me get used like the toy I am... I need ya to... ah, fuck, please cum!"
Husk's breath hitches, his hand stalling on his cock as he watches Angel beg him—beg him—through the screen. The words are twisted and wrong, but they make his cock twitch. He's disgusted, furious at Val for forcing those words out, but fuck, hearing Angel's voice crack like that, pleading for his release... it's too much. Husk strokes faster, rewinding just to hear it again.
"Th-thank you, Husk... for jerkin' off to me... to this fucked-up mess. Please—cum for me, Whiskers. Cum watchin' me get used like the toy I am... I need ya to... ah, fuck, please cum!"
Oh fuck, it's even better the second time.
Val chuckles darkly, satisfied, and picks up the pace again, slamming into Angel with everything he's got. "That's it, you filthy slut. Cum on my cock and fingers while he watches. Show him how much you love being my broken little whore, begging for every drop." He grinds deeper. "Bet he's stroking even harder now, imagining it's him wrecking you. Cum for us both, baby, make it messy.”
The assault pushes Angel over the edge. He cums again, harder this time, his pussy squirting in forceful arcs around Val's fisted arm, soaking the moth's pink shirt and white pants further, ass clamping down like a vice to milk the cock buried deep as his small penis spurts weakly, thin ropes painting Val's hand and dripping to the floor. His whole body convulses in the chains, screams of ecstasy tearing from his throat, his form shuddering with aftershocks.
Val follows moments later, groaning deep as he buries himself balls-deep in Angel's ass, hot seed flooding the abused hole in thick pulses. He yanks his fist out midway through his orgasm, Angel's pussy gaping wide and twitching, immediately stuffing his still-cumming cock into the stretched entrance to shoot the remaining ropes deep inside there as well. Cum overflows from both holes now, leaking in creamy white trails down Angel's thighs, mixing with the slick mess already there.
He pulls out slowly, letting the camera capture the gape of both wrecked holes, cum leaking out in thick rivulets from each, before stepping back, cock still hard and glistening, tucking it away into his white pants without a care.
The video ends with Val blowing a kiss at the lens. "Hope that hit the spot, kittycat. Your boy's all mine."
Husk hasn't cum yet, his balls aching with pent-up need, but he can't hold back anymore. The sight of Angel on screen—broken and blissed out—is too much, too fucking hot. Angel's voice echoes in his head, begging him to cum, pleading like a desperate slut.
He rewinds the video frantically with one claw, the other never leaving his throbbing cock. Back to that moment: Angel's tear-streaked face staring into the camera, voice cracking:
"Please—cum for me, Whiskers. Cum watchin' me get used like the toy I am..."
He watches till the second orgasm, Angel's body convulsing in those red smoke chains, pussy squirting in messy arcs, ass clenching around Val's cock, his small penis spurting weakly as screams tear from his throat.
Husk strokes furiously as he rewinds again, his hand a blur on his length, the rough texture dragging deliciously against his palm with every twist and pull, sending sparks of pleasure-pain up his spine. He imagines it—joining Val in that studio, the moth's smug grin as they claim Angel together. Shoving into that dripping pussy while Val pounds his ass, double-stuffing him until Angel's screaming for mercy, body stretched to its limits.
He imagines pulling out at the last second, grabbing Angel's fluffy hair, and yanking his head back to shoot thick ropes of cum all over that pretty, fucked-out face, painting his trembling lips with his seed.
The pressure builds, coiling tight in his core, the barbs flaring as his cock swells, veins pulsing under his grip. His wings flare out involuntarily, his tail thrashing against the barstool.
"Fucking take it, you used-up whore!" he snarls aloud, the words ripping from his throat as he explodes.
Ropes of thick cum splatter the bar floor in hot bursts, his growl echoing in the empty lobby like a wounded animal. Pleasure crashes through him, white-hot and all-consuming, vision blurring as aftershocks ripple down his thighs, leaving him slumped over the bar, panting raggedly, cock twitching in his hand with residual throbs.
The post-nut clarity crashes down, harder than ever, a tidal wave of self-loathing that drowns him. What the fuck is he doing? Jerking off to Angel's assault, to his panic, his vulnerability. It's so fucking wrong. He's no better than Valentino; he's proven himself a monster.
He should delete the video, smash the phone, march to Vee Tower, and drag Angel out himself. Tears streak his fur; he wipes them angrily, staring at the paused screen: Angel's spent, cum-dripping body, face etched with post-orgasm haze.
He should delete it, burn the phone, forget.
But his claw hovers over the delete button, hesitating, hating every fiber of his being. He can't. The ache for Angel is too deep; the need to see him, even like this... it's all he has left.
His fingers tremble as he presses save.