Chapter 2
He concentrated on controlling his breathing, mentally timing each movement. Releasing too soon would ruin the shoot, but holding on too long would cause physical discomfort. He had to let his partner lead him in each thrust, turn, and action.
The director gave the signal that they were ready for the climax. The faceless demon above him pumped into him a couple more times before he pulled him forwards so he was sitting on his partner's lap. His long legs sprawled across the other demon's thick thighs. He felt large firm hands grabbing hold of his ass cheeks bringing him up a few inches before none-to-gently slamming him back down on the flesh piston within his rectum. He mentally noted how uncomfortable it felt to be doing things this way. It felt strange to feel mentally thrown off by how big his co-actors cock actually was. He had done this with so many men of varying sizes, and the occasional woman over the decades since this studio had been built, as well as the brothels and peep shows before that. He didn't remember the faces of his partners, and he never liked any of them anyway so it didn't matter if one of them was a familiar face or not. Some were gentle and let him take the lead, but most were rough and asserted dominance in every situation.
In moments like this, he had become skilled at allowing his mind to wander to the back of his consciousness, surrendering himself to the action while contemplating other things. He might have been pondering how much Valentino would pay him for this shoot or whether he would be able to produce something decent tonight or be stuck with overly salted and spicy ramen for the fifth time that week. Perhaps Alastor made Jambalaya again and there would be leftovers in the fridge. That French-Creole dish wasn't as good as classic Italian, although it was okay. It lacked the subtle and nuanced flavors of dishes like Chicken Piccata or Veal Marsala. Even simple Pasta Pomodoro was better than that goop. But, at the end of the day, food was food.
He wrapped his legs around his partner's waist as he felt himself preparing for the release. Finally, his partner lifted him up one last time before bringing him down hard and came inside him giving a loud roar of lust and need. He wanted to scream out at the pain and humiliation felt but forced it to become a cry of ecstasy as he arched his back finally allowing his own loins to release their seed.
After his partner stepped back, he had only a brief moment to recover and stand up before being pushed against a nearby wall as his partner ground against him, indicating that their sexual escapade was far from over. As the scene came to a close, he grabbed his partner's face and invited their long, slippery tongue into his mouth, promising the viewers that there was more to come.
"Okay, that's a wrap," announced the director. "Great job, everyone!" As the larger demon's bulky frame moved away, he finally had the chance to catch his breath.
He loathed the moments when he felt like he was being squeezed. Valentino only reluctantly accepted his demand to keep his boots on during shoots and his refusal to participate in any foot-related projects. As a human, he had never taken pleasure or had any sexual desire in the sight of feet. But now, as a demon, his own feet disgusted him with their ridiculous appearance. He could handle being a spider demon since his family had ties to a notorious crime syndicate, and the Mafia had a broad reach in the underworld, from drug distribution and prostitution to influencing the police and government. However, the fact that his legs ended in pink hooves was unbearable. If he could, he would have had stockings surgically attached to his body so that he could permanently hide the grotesque appendages. The boots, or at the very least the stockings, were the only allowance he could get from the moth. Refusal for anything else was not an option.
"Ain't about whether you're diggin' it or not," Val had snarled after Angel had complained about feeling crushed during a shoot. "You best not think you're getting VIP treatment every time you ain't feelin' it. In this game, you give the audience what they crave, and you learn to make it your own kind of magic. That's the deal, capisce? If I hear one more peep of you grippin' 'bout this mess, I'll have to ensure your next lesson involves a real tight squeeze, if you catch my drift."
A random stagehand tossed him his robe, which he gratefully pulled on as he made his way off the set and to the dressing room for a shower. This was his final shoot of the day, and he longed to wash away the sweat and other grime that had dried into his fur.
"Good job today," Dia said, standing beside her love partner and co-worker, Summer. Angel lifted a hand, palm up, to acknowledge the compliment but said nothing in response. He didn't feel anything in particular towards the two demonesses, but he guessed they were okay. However, he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that they were so subservient to Valentino. Dia was generally pleasant and friendly towards him, and she even took the time to check if he was okay following one of Valentino's moods. On the other hand, Summer could be for lack of a better word 'catty' and jealous at times, despite knowing that being the "Boss's Pet" was far from a blessing. Angel wished that Summer wouldn't let her jealousy cloud her judgment and that they could all just work together without any drama.
"Valentino hurts you because you resist him," Summer had said after Valentino had backhanded Angel across the face. "Just do what he wants, and he won't won't hit you quite so much." It was easy for her to say; the two of them were broken. It sounded so simple: just fall into the mindset of letting people have what they want out of you. Just comply with their demands, and if you obey, it'll all be over, and the pain won't be as bad. But for Angel, it wasn't that simple. If he wasn't already dead, he would have taken his own life decades ago just to escape it all.
It was tempting to give in to his owners, his Johns, and the random people he had to sleep with for every film and photoshoot. However, giving in didn't make the pain go away; it only made it worse. If you gave in, they would all hurt you because they knew they could, and they believed you deserved it. But if you resisted, sure, you would still be hurt, but at least you would be controlling how and why the pain was delivered.
Angel stepped into the dressing room, gathered up his clothing, and walked into the shower. At first, he locked the door for privacy, but then he paused and unlocked it again. Val had punished him for locking the shower door once, and the Moth had excused it as demanding access to him whenever Val needed it. Angel knew the truth, though - Val just wanted to take advantage of him while he was vulnerable. That was how Val operated and maintained control over his employees. Anything he could twist as an act of resistance or aggression was something he could use as an excuse for discipline.
The worst part of being dead was that there was no escape from tormentors. They were always there, grinding you into the dirt, and there was nowhere to run. You were always a slave to the pain. Even if you managed to gain your freedom, there would always be another asshole to make you feel like shit, and then another, and another, and so on. Sooner or later, you just stopped running.
Angel stripped out of his robe and flipped on the shower, letting the water warm up before stepping into the spray. He stood numbly as both sets of hands idly scrubbed at the fur on his torso and legs, washing away the sweat and semen that coated his body.
As much as he wanted to cry, he didn't want Valentino to enter the room and see him in such a weak state. He would allow the tears to flow back at the hotel when he could be alone and have some privacy.
While he outwardly enjoyed the recognition and fan-adoration he received, it was all a persona he showed the world. On the inside, he hated being a porn star. He despised being offered out for $10,000 a night and only earning about a very small fraction of it while the rest lined Valentino's pockets. He hated going out on stage to seductively shake his ass before an adoring crowd with a come-hither smile on his face, when all he really wanted to do was lay waste to all of them with a Thompson submachine gun. He was sick and tired of it all, but he couldn't leave.
It wasn't that he didn't want to leave. He had tried to escape numerous times, but his owners, boyfriends, lovers, and even rapists had made it difficult for him. Some had coaxed or convinced him to return, spinning stories about how they had changed and would treat him better. However, most had hunted him down and hurt him for daring to escape. The last time he had tried to flee, Valentino had caught him and as punishment, had one of his teeth extracted and dipped in molten gold before being reinserted again. The boiling hot metal searing the raw flesh of the open socket. Leaving a constant reminder that he was nothing more than Valentino's personal plaything, to be used and exploited as the moth demon pleased.
Despite being known as 'Angel Dust-the Porn Star,' he struggled to define his identity beyond that role. He didn't believe he had any valuable skills, aside from being sexually promiscuous. His only other skills came from growing up in a crime family, but Pops would rather erase him than have a father-son reunion. As for his Fratello, it was safer for them to keep their distance and not associate with each other.
Angel turned to the sex trade as a means to distance himself from his family's criminal business. He had learned the hard way not to trust anyone besides himself. Every time he opened his heart to someone, it was only broken and stomped on, whether it was a lover cheating on him or a manager being abusive and controlling. The people he would take on as boyfriends or employers used him as collateral or sold him off, forced him to use his body to pay off debts, or even offered him up as part of a gambling pot. If they won, the abuse only continued until they grew tired of him, and if they lost, he was forced to entertain in the casino to scrape by. It was just another form of manipulation that he had become all too familiar with over the numerous decades he had existed.
During moments like these, Angel yearned for his sister, Molly. She had always been a source of comfort for him whenever he felt distressed or frustrated, just as he had always been her protector and confidant. That was probably one of the reasons why Pops had separated them when they were young. Even after all these years since his death, he still vividly remembered hearing her voice calling out to him when he was suspended in the void between life and death.
"Anthony," Molly said, her Brooklyn twang replaced by a soft Italian lilt that reminded him of his late mother's voice when she spoke or sang softly to the three of them. He couldn't see her or feel her, but he could sense her presence around him. "Can you hear me? It's Molly, your sister. I'm right here with you."
When her presence began to fade, he found himself holding his sister's rosary in his hand. It was a precious memento that had sadly been left behind when his mortal body expired and he descended into Hell. All he knew was that he had been alone when he felt himself being pulled into the abyss, and then he remembered nothing else before finding himself on the streets of Pentagram City.
During the early days of his coma, there was only one moment when he sensed his older brother's presence. Unlike Molly's loving and gentle presence, his Fratello's spirit felt like it was in turmoil, torn between anger and pain. He could feel the anger and disapproval directed at him, and it added to his sense of confusion and disorientation.
"You've gone and done it, ain't ya? You've succeeded in tearin' this family apart, and for what? Are you fucken' happy now? You think you're some big shot, huh? Well, let me tell ya, you're nothin' but a low-down rat."
He could still hear his older brother's growl of irritation before Molly scolded him into silence. While he didn't blame his brother for being angry with him, if he could have woke up at that moment, he probably would have wanted to punch the older man in the face. Couldn't his Fratello see that their father had already torn the family apart by raising his fists against his own children? Their family had been shattered the day their mother died. If only he had known, if he could have stopped the overdose from happening, he would have. He couldn't bear the thought of his sister being at his bedside during visiting hours. Tears falling down her face knowing in her heart a truth that she didn't like to think about.
As for his mother, Angel didn't know where she was, he liked to believe she wasn't in a place such as Hell. Even if she was in that world, he doubted he would have recognized her. She had passed away when he and Molly were small children, just another casualty of the Spanish Flu.
He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that his sister had been reborn in Heaven. There was no other way it could be. Molly didn't have the soul of a sinner like he did. He just knew in his very being that she was somewhere where she was happy. Somewhere where she was better off without him or any of their families toxic horse shit. The thought of his sister finding peace after all she had been through gave him a sense of comfort.
He couldn't change the past, but he could honor his sister's memory by fighting to find his way out of the darkness. He would keep going, no matter what obstacles he faced, until he found his way to the light.
Molly's voice echoed in Angel's mind, her words ringing true even in the depths of Hell. "There's folks out there just waiting for ya, Anthony." she had said."Ya gotta let folks see the real you, Anthony. Don't let Papa and our family name hold ya back. Find some pals, build a new kind of family. Once ya got that, ya make a break. Cut ties with Papa and the rest of the family, and ya hit the road." Her words had been a lifeline for him, a beacon of hope in his darkest moments. Molly had always been the one to believe in him, to see the good in him when no one else would. She had urged him to break free from their toxic family and create a life for himself, one where he could be happy and loved.
Anthony held onto her words, even as he felt the weight of his family's expectations pressing down on him. He knew it wouldn't be easy to break free, but he also knew it was the only way he could find true happiness. And he was willing to fight for it, no matter what it took.
He honored Molly's memory by continuing to exist so he could gain the life she had wanted for him, one where he was free to be himself and loved for who he was. He would find his own family, one that would accept him and love him unconditionally, and he would finally be able to run, to break free from the shackles of his past and find a brighter future.
In life he had once found a friend he felt he could trust, but their friendship ended tragically. His friend met an unfortunate and untimely end, leaving Anthony alone to grieve. But what made the situation worse was that his friend's family blamed him for the death, seeing him as something freakish and unnatural. They barred him from the funeral, leaving him to mourn in solitude.
The pain and torment brought on by his own family, and their rejection of him and who he loved, only drove him further into a spiral of drugs and alcohol. He was seen as an anathema, a monster for simply being what he was. His means of escape had become both his obsession and his downfall, and in time his namesake.
He had encountered his former friend about a year after arriving in Hell. His friend had also run from the family, but he had managed to take on a new life for himself. Angel, however, didn't see their past companionship as salvageable. Too much time had passed since his friend had been murdered, he had moved on. His friend had moved on. There wasn't any reason for anything to tie them together any more. While his former friend still offered himself as a person he could turn to as needed. Something Angel did accept on occasions, he didn't see any point in resurrecting what had been .
He couldn't help but think about Charlie's offer again. Maybe it was time to take a chance and see if there really was something to her idea. It was a risk that may not go anywhere, but staying where he was wasn't getting him anywhere either.
After drying off and getting dressed, he checked his HellPhone and saw that he still had a few hours before his next performance at the club. Feeling exhausted from the long night before, he decided to take advantage of the downtime and rest up in the green room. Leaving his dressing room he couldn't help but replay the conversation with Charlie in his head. He was torn between his desire to trust her and his fear of being hurt again. He knew he couldn't keep running away forever, but the idea of facing his demons was daunting.
As he entered the green room, Angel was greeted by darkness. He fumbled for the light switch and flicked it on, only to feel his blood run cold as he saw who was sitting at the table.
Valentino was there, his sharp red teeth twisted into a leering grin. Angel's heart raced as he tried to steady himself, his mind racing with thoughts of what Valentino might want.
"Hello...Angel Cakes," the Moth Demon said as he spat out a string of red smoke in the porn stars' direction. Angel winced as he felt the tendril of red smoke coil seductively up his neck carrying with it the heady scent of Val's cigarettes.
"Val..." Angel said. "You need me for something?"
"Yes," Val responded as he stood up and approached, "I'm callin' on you for a real exclusive gig."
"Okay," Angel responded, not liking the way Val said "exclusive gig". "I'm scheduled for a club performance at seven tonight."
"Nah, you're in the wings, on standby." Valentino corrected as one of his arms pulled Angel further into the room before pulling the door shut and locking it."Dia and Summer are takin' the spotlight tonight, but I want you to put on a private show, just for yours truly, baby!" Alarm bells went off in the Porn Stars head
"What is going on?" Angel demanded as he was forcefully pushed back against a heavy table in the middle of the room. His spine felt like it was going to snap as he was pinned against the wooden surface. One of Valentino's arms held his two main arms over his head, while the other held down his lower arms. Valentino's remaining free arm unbuttoned the front of Angel's jacket, causing the garment to fall open. Angel felt his heart race with fear. Was Val going to rape him? And for what reason? He had fulfilled all the tasks scheduled for today and was keeping his promise that the Hotel was only for free housing. "I've done everything you asked me to do on the schedule."
"Angel...Angel...Angel," Val chided, his leering smile twisting into a sneer. "Real innocent of you to believe I wouldn't catch wind that you've been makin' some connections with some heavy hitters."
"If ya' meanin' the Princess," Angel drawled. It was well-known that Charlie held the title of Princess of Hell, but that fact often seemed irrelevant to her subjects. "I wouldn't call her a friend... she's more like a housemate, ya' know, a really annoyin' one."
"What's the deal with the Radio Demon, huh?" Valentino probed.
"He's only helpin' the hotel for his own reasons," Angel shrugged. "Mostly to be entertained by watchin' everything fail... The guy's too creepy to even consider a friend anyway. I honestly never even heard of him by the "Radio Demon" name until a couple of days ago."
"I see," Val inquired, his tone hinting at suspicion. "How can I be sure you ain't plottin' to use this whole 'hotel scheme' to slip away from me once more?"
"THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW IF THE WHOLE REDEMPTION IDEA CAN WORK," Angel raised his voice, his fear and frustration boiling over. Part of him hoped that someone would hear what was going on and come to investigate. He knew that most demons in the studio were aware of Valentino's true nature, but few knew what he did to his performers behind the scenes.
"The whole thing is just a scheme," Angel continued, his voice dripping with cynicism. "Just somethin' cooked up as an alternative to the Exorcists comin' to deal with the Overpopulation. If things were that simple, don't you think someone would have come up with that before now?"
"Perhaps..." Valentino said as he leaned forward pressing his growing erection against Angel's crotch. His long red tongue sliding up Angel's neck, the Spider shuddered in response. "Lay it down, make me believe you ain't settin' up to double-cross me."
~This is really happening...~ Angel mentally said as he felt his body respond to the stimulation that Valentino was giving him. He let out an involuntary gasp as he felt his chin getting roughly clutched by a black hand.
"Need to make things tough on you, baby?" Valentino asked toyingly?
"No... Daddy," Angel responded, his voice laced with defeat. He felt like the biggest loser in all of existence.
"You gonna keep it cool and follow the script?" Valentino inquired just as toyingly?
"Yes...yes Daddy," Angel answered as he was allowed to sit up from where he was pinned against the tabletop. Val peeled away Angel's white and pink jacket and tossed it aside before he took Angel's face in both of his hands and slipped his tongue into Angel's mouth, while Val's lower arms ran up and down the spider's thighs.
~I can do it,~ Angel thought to himself, feeling a familiar surge of anger and fear rise up in him. ~I can bite down right now and give him a dose of my venom again. It wouldn't be lethal...but it would make him weak enough to let me get away.~ He had a venomous bite that could come in handy when defending himself. The venom was only strong enough to make someone seriously ill, but in many cases, that was enough to get away from danger. Still he hesitated, wondering if it was worth the risk.
~But then what...~ Angel thought, his resolve faltering as he considered the consequences of his actions. ~Where can I go afterward? He knows about the hotel, so he'd try to find me there. And he knows about my girl buddy, so he'd check to see if I'm hiding out with her, or punish me through her. If I'm caught again, he'll do worse than just rape me. I know that from experience. And if he doesn't catch me...he could hurt Nuggz, maybe everyone else at the hotel. He could still do that in either case...damn it. If I don't do something quick, it'll just be more of the bullshit he's done to me over the years... but I can't.~ Angel felt trapped, unable to see a way out of his situation. The fear and hopelessness consumed him, making him feel smaller and more powerless than ever before.
"Got somethin' on your mind?" Valentino purred threateningly.
"What...no," Angel responded. He didn't need to make things worse for himself by letting on he was plotting a way to fight back. This wasn't like the film shoots, he couldn't let his mind drift. Val liked his fucks to be mentally present, if he suspected they were trying to zone out he would stop and then get rough when they thought the whole thing was over and it was safe to return to their present mind. "I was wonderin' how you wanted me to perform for you tonight?"
"Good boy," Valentino smiled evilly at the nearly naked demon before him. "Get on your knees and suck my dick." Angel felt his stomach turn at that request, but he was in no position to refuse.
Dropping down to the floor and getting to his knees. He opened Valentino's jacket enough to grab hold of the zipper of Valentino's skin-tight capris with his teeth and pulled it down over the thick bulge allowing the Moth's member to spring free. Opening his mouth he ran his tongue along the tip of the flesh pole before, teasingly tracing it up and down Val's penis. A hand in his hair signaled that the taller demon was ready for him to take him fully into his mouth. Angel teased the tip of Val's cock, lightly probing the slit with his tongue before he engulfed the scrotum pole as far as he could take it. Hugging Valentino's hips as he bobbed his head; pumping the purplish-blue dong in and out of his mouth.
"Oh yeah," Valentino groaned in pleasure. "That feels nice, Sugar. You like how I taste?"
"I love how ya taste, Mr. Valentino sir," Angel responded obediently.
"Tell me how much," Val leered, drool slipped between his teeth and down his chin. "You like my dick enough to suck it forever?"
"I love the taste of your dick," Angel responded. "Please let me suck it for eternity, Daddy!" Valentino grabbed hold of Angel's face, pulling him fiercely forward, pistoning his john in and out of the spider's mouth. Angel nearly gagged when he felt Val's manhood hitting the back of his throat as he climaxed. He forced himself to swallow the fountain of cum, a trickle of white semen rolled out of the corner of Angel Dust's mouth as Valentino removed himself.
"Ooo," Valentino said in ecstasy.You sure got the knack for pleasin' me, Angel Pie, but the curtain ain't dropped on this gig just yet. I'm still cravin' more of your magic touch, baby." Roughly pulled to his feet, Angel found himself forced to lean forward bracing his hands against the top of the heavy wooden table one of Valentino's hands fondled the fluff on Angel's chest. While another of the Moth's hands slipped beneath the band of the spider's shorts touching the hardening organ that was starting to come out of his opening cloaca.
Angel moned reluctantly giving into sensations his body was giving him. He wanted to fight, but he couldn't. If he did it could cost him...returning to the hotel with unexplained bruises would catch unwanted attention. Being stuck at the studio all night would certainly cause Charlie to worry, or worse...he could be stuck in that horrible room for days...weeks. Then what...if Charlie or Vaggie called to see about his whereabouts, Val would just feign ignorance and that could give Val reason to keep him longer. As far as everyone at the hotel would know, he could have been erased.
"Shouldn't..." Angel asked cautiously. "Shouldn't we take this up to...ya know...the penthouse? In case anyone wants to take their break in here?"
"It's no problem, Angel Cakes," Valentino said as he pulled the zipper on the back of Angel's shorts, letting the garment fall to the floor. I done told everybody 'bout this here break room bein' reserved for a meet up, and I ain't lookin' for no interruptions. 'Cept for you, darlin', 'cause you're the star of my meeting." Angel blinked back tears knowing what was to happen...he had resigned himself to the probability of this. He could feel Valentino's unsheathed cock had grown hard once more as it was traced up and down where the thin string of fabric of his thong cut through the cleft of his ass. Val was already getting into position for his starting thrust when there was a knock on the door. The Moth became annoyed and attempted to ignore the interruption so he could continue to ravish his prize, but the knock persisted.
"Damn it," Val grumbled as his arousal faded. He tucked himself back into his pants and zipped his fly before stepping out of the room to argue with whoever was on the other side of the door. Angel hurriedly hid under the table, grabbing his shorts and pulling them back on as a cover in case the unknown person caught sight of what had been interrupted. After some muffled yells from Valentino and some unintelligible pleas from the unfortunate interrupter, the Moth finally returned. "It seems there is an urgent matter that requires my attention. Our little session will have to wait."
"Yes, Mr. Valentino," Angel said, secretly doing a mental happy dance.
"Take tomorrow for yourself, baby." Val added. In fact, slip into relaxation mode for the next couple of days. Get yourself all dolled up, spiffy and head on back to this Happy Hotel. You're off the clock for today. And Angel, just remember, if you even think 'bout pullin' a disappearing act..." The unspoken threat hung in the air as the Mothy Pimp left the room.
Angel remained crouched under the table, refusing to cry. Shakily, he crawled out of his hiding place and got to his feet, locating his jacket and putting it on. His fingers fumbled as he redid the brass buttons. He hurriedly left the room and made his way out of the studio. He needed to get away before Val changed his mind.