All Chapters of Damned Straight to Heaven: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

NickI ain’t in control of my own body, but I’m fighting tooth and nail this time to wake the fuck up, because I know there is something possessing me – some cold, alien presence puppeting me like a fucking--I come to naked, seated on the end of Alessia’s bed. It’s not waking up. It’s just suddenly being able to fucking see and feel through my own fucking senses again, instead of being suffocated in the void.Alessia’s wiping tears from her eyes, before settling in at my back, kissing my cheek. “I’m sorry. I… I know you’re just stressed. And I… I honestly wasn’t in the mood either.” She sniffles. “Could we maybe just… talk more? Daddy… I can’t believe he’d do that.”I say nothing, still struggling to get my bearings, and to get my fucking tongue to work.She burrows all the closer up against me, bare breast pressing up against my back. I feel shaken and cold, and I couldn’t be softer down there if I were swimming by a glacier. “Christopher’s speech, that really helped with the repo

NickThis midday mass was so packed, there’s no way I could have found a seat, even had I gotten here on time. It’s like the entire church-going populace is in attendance (which is to say about 10,000 more Family members and civis than can fit into those pews). Sicillio’s even broadcasting his sermon on the radio, a stunt he typically pulls only on Easter and Christmas. Means I can listen to it from inside my car without setting foot in that cursed cathedral yet. Gotta wait for the crowds to clear out after all, before making a move.I keep parked a good ways up the block in an illegally borrowed Cadi, volume on low, as I listen to every word of Sicillio’s pretentious, hypocritical sermonizing. “…In these troubled and turbulent times, it is more important than ever to remember our faith.” He goes on, always emphasizing the ‘virtue’ of blind, fanatical devotion to whatever St. Christians warped parish instructs. He talks about the loss of the mayor and of Jack Bertinelli, the importan

ChristianAgony is white, and suffering is red, a haze of red, and life is just a swarm of black mist clouding my vision. My only lucid thought now--Trapped.My only feeling--Too many feelings: panic, hatred, confusion, anger, regret…A spear of light stabs down into my skull as the lid of this tomb is once again shoved aside with a grating of stone. The most lovely pair of guarded and seemingly depthless, darkest eyes hold my fracturing stare--Something yanks free of my chest. My body gasps its relief. I want to sob my relief. Instead, the red overtakes my vision, and I lunge for him like a dead-eyed shark.We go crashing to the floor, and my teeth clamp down into his upraised forearm. I’m glad it wasn’t his neck, because the acrid bitterness that explodes throughout my mouth as my fangs sink into even that shallower network of veins is painful, nauseating--I keep gulping it down anyhow. I can’t help it. Can’t stop. This is still human blood at its core, needed sustenance refilli

DanielI wanted to be the one to save him. I was going to be the one to save him.And I didn’t need a demon’s help to do it. I ignored that insidious voice. I sobered up and headed straight back to the cathedral. I slipped back inside the rectory through that hidden cellar entrance Renata showed me, while Sicillio was still occupied hosting the last session of this Sunday’s special mass.Should anyone spot me down here, I’d be locked right back up in these cells, flogged, then shipped off to remote care of senior inquisitor, Father Joseph. I might even be killed on the spot. My father was dead after all, so risk of our mayor’s displeasure would no longer shield me from facing the ultimate penalty for my many transgressions.I was terrified the entire time, and I quickly got lost in those catacombs of cells, unable to find my way back to the tomb where Christian was imprisoned, suffering…“If you need directions, love, all you have to do is ask,” the demon wearing his face whispered in

Christian There’s no one who can mix pleasure and pain with as perfect instinct and finesse as Nico always seems to. I’m surprised I didn’t cum, spray all over his chest again, or right up by that mouth… Maybe it’s those tremors in the earth and the alarm bells going off in my brain-- Nico frenches me in bruising, biting play, sending another jolt of venom through my nervous system, and all coherent thought scatters. That strong hand squeezes at my dick, rubbing at the shaft and bringing that member back to standing attention. “You didn’t cum,” he complains in between kisses, sucking on my earlobe, my jaw, my neck. “That practical body slam into the ground may have jolted me out of it,” I breathlessly excuse. Though the air is getting colder. That means something… I try to reflect back on which way Daniel went when I sent him away from Nico’s freshly awakened appetite-- “Fuck me then,” Nico orders, and all thought of Daniel dissolves. He’s grinding his crotch into my hardening