Valtiel crawled along the blood-smeared, rusted grating of the ceiling, hanging upside-down above the room below. Slowly, he reached out, movements twisted and jerky, the angel's thick muscles spasming underneath his flesh. A low growl sounded from within him, somewhere in his throat. His fingers curled around the metal handle, coated with faded red paint, that had chipped away since it had been created, leaving the surface rough in patches under his fingers, paint chips poking into his flesh. But the cool metal felt good to hold. It had been so long since he felt it. It was his duty to turn the valves of Silent Hill, but Valtiel brought far more passion to his work than "duty" called for. He slowly pulled the handle in a circle, straining his muscles to pull it in a full rotation before he jerked his hand away, muscles forcing his hand to jump back to where he grabbed it first.

The valve squeaked as he turned it, and a shudder ran through Valtiel's body. What an equisite sound. It grated against him, in protest, as if digging invisible nails into the sides of the angel's head. The angel's hand slapped against the valve as he grabbed it again, contorting his arm in one fast jerk to turn it, this time only exactly one-quarter of it's rotation. The squeak was short, high-pitched, tortured and lovingly horrid. Another shudder, and Valtiel's neck spasmed, throwing his head back. He whipped his hand back up to where he began, and pull the valve again, the red paint underneath his hands pulling at his skin.

The sound again, and the feel of it's resistance to him, weakening as it turned once again, almost two full rotations complete. Valtiel could feel himself growing hot; not due to the heat rising from the long shaft below him, but from within him. From his body, from his filthy, twisted sex.

Valtiel's fingers caressed the valve as he jerked his hand back up, grasping it with the passion he felt welling inside him, and pulling it down, twisting his hand against the metal, a fleck of red paint chipping off his his palm. The angel writhed, pressing his body against teh rusted grating, the metal digging into his skin, his hip pushing into the valve itself. A spasm forced his hips up into the valve, a dull thud dying in the air when his bones met the metal, only a thin layer of skin and stained cloth between them. Valtiel grunted at the pain, and the mix of pleasure that flooded his body. His member, thick and long as it was, was growing yet larger, hardening beneath the tightness of his robes. He rubbed his meat-stick against the valve that his fingers were tight around, making a sound of pleasure that reverberatted through the room, like an animal howling in pain.

He let himself fall away from the ceiling slightly, gripping the valve, and turning it again, faster. The screech rang through the room, pulling at Valtiel, inviting his body to it's pleasure. He cranked the valve again, his hand sliding on the metal, bumping against a thin spoke on the handle. He ground again, a tearing sound, wet flesh moving, a grating squelch from inside him. His mighty cock was pulsating with his passion, throbbing to be free of the cloth that restrained it, to be touched by the valves, the rough chipped paint against his meaty length, the pull as he twisted the valve with his cock between the spokes. Valtiel yanked the valve, rough and hard, pulling it around in another rotation. He could barely stand the sound of the valve's squeaking any longer.

The angel wanted to fuck the valve. No, he needed to fuck it. To put his cock through the spokes and turn it... He yanked it again, and the squeak almost made him cry out as his seed yearned to burst from him. Valtiel, being unable to withstand the sound and the touch of the valve on his hands any longer, pulled his robe away, and thrust his member between two spokes of the valve, and turned it, spokes twisting his cock hard to the left, pulling at the tender flesh. Valtiel yelled aloud, and thrust his member between the spokes, then pulled it away, teh rough edges of the chipped paint scratching against his hardened dick. Yes, yes, the feeling was so right. Valtiel thrust his cock into the next gap between the spokes, and turned the valve, repeating the motion, his yells and screams sounding as if he was under torture, something vile and cruel, with gurgles and growls coming from within his throat as he shoved himself again and again into the valve.

Finally, as his passion came to a peak, swollen within his thobbing, pulsing cock, Valtiel screamed twisting his valve in a full rotation. White come sprayed from his cock, splashing over the valve, white striking against the faded red. The angel looked down at the valve, contemplating it for a moment, before reching out and turning it again, contented by the lack of squeak, now that it was lubricated with his semen.