[M] Clash of the Masters

Belial sat back and chuckled as he watched Asher walk through the club completely erect, his laughter deepening as the man squirmed away from other people trying to touch him.

It was truly amusing seeing him like that, however his laughter cut short as he saw the drink fly out of his hand, dousing him in scotch as a woman grabbed him by the throat and hit him.

He knew who that was and immediately got out of his seat, no one hit his Slaves without his permission.

In a split second he was behind Asher, press his body up against the man's back reassuringly, towering over him as he stared down at the woman calmly, grasping onto her wrist and squeezing it, though his features looked calm his grip was a few seconds away from shattering the bones in her wrists, a feat that required very little effort on his behalf.

"Is there a problem?"

He asked, his voice smooth and calm, this was when Belial was at his most deadly, when he was screaming and shouting at least he was venting his anger some how when he was calm like this, rage just built up inside of him.

Asher cried out again and tried to pull away from Hendrika as she slapped him again.

And then he felt the heat of a tall body against his back and cowered against him, biting his lip as he curled against his Master's lip.

He hadn't wanted to meet Hendrika face to face again.

He was with Belial and he was happy with Belial. He didn't want Hendrika dragging him down again. He had felt so much better in himself since Belial, Zakhar and Coilean had been looking after him.

She gave an angered growl when she felt a hand around her wrist. "Get your filth- Belial?!" her voice was high pitched, shocked.

Her blue eyes were wide in shock, darkened slightly in pain as her wrist was gripped tightly.

This was the first time Belial had approached her. It had always been her approaching him, asking for his attention, for him to take a Session with Asher or her other Slave. He'd never give her the time of day before.

"Not at all. There aren't any- nngg." She grimaced trying to pull her hand from his grip, her free hand moving to try and pry his from her wrist. "You're hurting me. Asher, help your Mistress out," she ordered, still trying to pry his hand away from Belial.

As much as she loved his attention, she didn't want to be hurt because of him.

He smiled warmly down at the woman, more so as she tried to pull away from him, that clearly was not going to happen.

"I do apologize, sometimes I don't realise my own strength."

He replied, his hand tightening around her wrist until the sickening crunch of bones slowly breaking sounded.

"Your his Mistress? Now now Hendrika, didn't your mother ever tell you not to lie? Trying to do so in front of me of all people."

The Fallen tutted softly as he leaned down, brushing his lips against Asher's ear, nipping it softly as he whispered to him.

"Hit her back as punishment for striking you."

He ordered, Asher would know what it was like to have this woman at his mercy for once.

Asher flinched when he heard the woman scream. It was the first time he had heard her scream out in pain like that.

He nuzzled closer to the Fallen, both for protection and in hopes of being able to get away from this situation quicker.

He was uncomfortable being pressed between Hendrika and Belial. He wanted to return to their booth and forget Hendrika existed for the rest of the night. He was scared of confrontation like this.

His eyes flickered up in shock at the order, warily turning to the struggling Dutch woman. Hit her?

Asher swallowed thickly as he turned around so his back was pressed against Belial's chest again. His lips parted, uttering a soft apology as he struck out in a pathetic slap.

The woman screamed out when her wrist snapped under the force of Belial's grip.

It hurt. She had never broken a bone before. The pain was excruciating.

Her eyes narrowed up at the Fallen slightly. Lying. She was Asher's Mistress. Granted in the past, but that was only a technicality.

Her eyes widened when Asher actually lashed out at her, though the hit was pathetic; not even causing reddened skin.

"Haven't you grown some balls? If I had known you'd become like this, I wouldn't have let you go. Who has claim over you now anyway? I think I'll take you back."

"Asher, you can do better than that, think of all the shit she has done to you, this will be the only chance you have at getting some revenge."

Neither of them knew this at the current point in time but the woman would not be walking away from this, no one, absolutely no one got away with striking one of his Slaves, getting rid of her would have no repercussions so he had no second thoughts about killing her.

"You wont be taking him back, Asher belongs to me now. I'm his new Master."

He replied as he looked down at the woman, releasing her hand and wrapping his arms protectively around the Fairy, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his neck and his collar which bore his mark, a mark many in the club were familiar with from seeing him up on stage.

Asher gave a soft whimper.

He didn't want revenge. He was upset with what he had been put through but he wasn't angry. He couldn't strike someone he wasn't angry at.

The man pressed back against Belial when his arms wrapped around him, bright eyes sliding shut.

His head tilted back a little to offer more of his neck to the Fallen as he nuzzled and kissed it.

She cradled her wrist to her chest, grimacing softly.

Her wrist her so much. It looked like her night would be cut short.

"He belongs to you now?" Her eyes flickered up in shock. Unbelievable! She's been trying to get his attention for nearly a decade and as soon as she gets rid of her useless Slave, he gets Belial's attention.

"How much do you want for him? Money's no issue and you're free to have as many Sessions as you want with him."

She wanted Asher back.

Belial snorted as Hendrika tried to buy Asher off of him.

"I possess far more trivial wealth than you could possibly imagine, it tends to accumulate over vast millenia."

He replied, holding the man closer, his hands stroking over him soothingly.

"Asher is not for sale and the fact that you think a Slave can be so easily handed over from one Master to the next is just proof how worthless you are and undeserving you are as a Mistress."

He replied his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"My Slaves and I love him more than you ever could, he deserves someone better than you.

Plus, you've hurt someone that belongs to me and the fact that you think you will be walking out of this building in one piece is rather amusing."
He replied with a chuckle.

Asher couldn't help the little smile that curled his lips.

'My slaves and I love him.'

'I love him.'

Belial really did care for him. It had been a mild concern that Belial had done all of this out of pity for a short while in the beginning. But not only did he care for him, he loved him.

Asher nuzzled against the man, still smiling softly.

Hendrika gave an offended huff.

"I trained him well." She had trained him into the perfect little Slave and she had done a good job doing so. No one could fault the quality of her training.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously at the fallen.

"Was that a threat?"

She didn't respond well to threats.

"You did train him well, but you also abused him, it has taken me a long time to get him to a desirable weight."

Belial laughed softly and smiled as her eyes narrowed at him.

"I don't make threats, a threat would imply that perhaps I wouldn't do it, this is a promise, you are going to die for laying a hand on my Slave, and I will be the one to kill you, Asher may not want revenge, but I do."

The Fallen's eyes shone dangerously, the purple hues lighting up in the darkened room.

Belial chanted a few words in Latin, he was going to make this as painful as possible for her.

He spent millenia torturing souls in Hell, he knew how to cause suffering, at this very moment the bile in Hendrika's stomach turned to corrosive acid, slowly burning through her stomach and seeping into her bowls and blood stream.

He leaned over and brushed his lips against her ear so only she could hear him, no one here knew what he was, though many had tried to guess.

"Death will not bring you relief, I am Belial, the first of the Fallen Angels and Lord of the underworld, Father of Lucifer and Hell will be your eternal torment. You will suffer for your sins."

Her eyes narrowed even more.

She hadn't abused him any more than any other decent Master would have.

"You're going to kill me?" She couldn't help but to laugh about that. This man thought he'd get away with killing her. It was ridiculous. He wouldn't be able to kill her.

Her laughed cut short when she felt a burning in her stomach. Her brows furrowed and she pressed a hand to her flat leather-clad stomach. She must have eaten something bad earlier.

But the pain was getting worse. She hunched over a little, clutching at her stomach with a moan. "Wh-what??"

She flinched when he leaned forwards, eyes widening at his murmur. "Belial," she whispered softly in horrific realisation. Tears spilled from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She was going to be killed by the most sadistic person in all the realms, all because she had treated her Slave the way she had wanted to.

"I was happy to let you be after I took Asher as my own, after all he was yours, you could do what ever you want with him.

However you gave him up, saw him wearing another's collar and still thought it alright to harm him. I don't take such matters lightly and it has been a long time since I have killed someone, I wouldn't want to lose my touch."

He chuckled as she cried and whispered his name, there would be no mercy for her.

His eyes trailed down his Slave's body, smiling in sadistic glee as he saw the man was still rock hard even while witnessing this.

"Once she is dead I'm going to take you back to our booth and lick every drop of scotch off of you then I'm going to take you, hard and fast, marking you all over so no one will ever dare lay a hand on you."

He murmured, biting the man's neck roughly as his hand reached down and grasped him, pumping him slowly as they watched her double over.

"Acid is eating at your internal organs, I wonder what will kill you first, organ failure or blood loss."

He grinned looking down at her, sending an image directly into her mind of him standing their, clutching onto Asher as they watched her dying, two large black wings protruding from Belial's back, and Angel of death, sent to make her suffer.

With a flick of his wrist the woman's broken arm got cleanly sliced off at the shoulder, spraying the three of them and any on lookers with blood.

She dropped to her knees and hunched over, throwing up a sick mixture of acid and blood; the contents of her stomach and so much more.

The woman gave a loud sob as Belial spoke.

Acid?

She was going to die. Belial was really going to kill her.

Hendrika screamed out loudly when her arm was cut off.

There was something beautiful about seeing such a strong woman so defenceless as she laid slowly dying. He loved the sight of it. Adored it. He would have never been able to bring her to this state himself but the image of it was still so wonderful. he had to admire it.

Asher shivered violently when his neck was bitten sharply, giving a groan at the words.

Belial was going to bend him over and fuck him.

And he'd cry out for everyone to hear. He belonged to Belial.

His hips thrust into the older man's hand needily as he pumped him slowly, gripping onto his shirt to hold himself up.

He groaned loudly when he felt blood spray over him; the hot substance pooling in the dips of his body and running over his skin, staining it red.

"Master," he whined softly, eyes turning up to him, lips parted and green eyes smouldering in a desperate need.

Alice sighed and shook her head at Belial, the both of them had know each other for a long time now and she had endured him making a scene like this a handful of times.

The woman went about calming some of the other patrons and cleaning up the woman's mangled corpse, though many others had gone off to their own booth reveling in the arousal of witnessing such an event.

He looked down at Asher, his own eyes smouldering in need.

"I need you now."

He muttered, scooping him up in his arms and rushing him over to their booth, Belial sprawled Asher out on the couch, laying him down as the Fallen hovered over him, licking his lips in anticipation as he leaned down, running his tongue down the center of his torso, dutifully lapping up the blood and scotch with a loud purr.

His arms wrapped around Belial's neck as he picked him up, hugging close to the man as he rushed them the short distance back to his booth.

His arms sprawled above his head when he was dropped down onto the padded leather seating and he stretched out a little so his entire body was in easy reach and on show for the Fallen.

Asher groaned soft when Belial bent his head to run his tongue over his body. His tongue was hot and wet and felt exquisite against his skin.

His back arched upwards and he gave a loud moan, hands fisting in his Master's hair.

Belial lapped at his skin eagerly, tracing every curve on his torso, every dip was trailed with his tongue, stroking up his neck and navel until there wasn't a drop left on him.

The Fallen looked up at him and licked his lips seductively before licking his fingers generously and pressing them to the man's entrance, pushing the two of them in slowly.

His fingers thrust into him hastily, spreading apart in an attempt to stretch him quickly, he wanted to fuck him hard and now, he didn't want to wait too long.

By the time Belial's tongue had finished cleaning his body of blood and alcohol, Asher was a writhing mass of need beneath him.

He whimpered and whined, back arching a little to press up against the Demon.

His head fell back and he gave a long, loud moan when fingers were finally pushed into him.

Asher's hips thrust eagerly with the hasty pace of the Fallen's fingers.

"Master, please," he begged. He wanted more. He wanted to be bitten and slapped and pinched and fucked. He wanted to be put through so much that he cried at the intensity of it.

He wanted to be at the complete mercy of Belial's sadistic pleasure.

At the sound of Asher's beg Belial lost all self control, he wanted him now, if he hurt the man to excess he could deal with healing him later.

It only took a few moment for the Fallen to remove his fingers, tear off his shirt and pants, push Asher until he was bent over the table and bury himself deep within the younger man, pounding into him with startling ferocity.

He gave a loud moan as he thrust his hips, brutally pounding into him as he leaned down and tore his teeth into the boy's flesh, ripping a wound in the back of his neck.

Asher grunted as he was flung over the table, gripping the edges of it and pushing his backside out for the Fallen to see.

His head dropped forwards to rest against the cool wood of the table as he was thrust into, giving a low groan, half from the pleasure of finally being entered and the discomfort of such a sudden intrusion to his body.

His body jerked and writhed under Belial as he gave loud cries.

He hissed softly when his neck was bitten and his skin was torn open.

"Please, Master, slap me." He wanted to feel the stinging sensation that a good hard slap left behind.

Belial wasn't about to deny the man what he wanted because if Asher wanted to be hit, he was more than happy to oblige at the moment.

His hand reared back before smacking down harshly on his backside, leaving behind a flaming red hand print which welted immediately.

The Fallen gripped his hips and raised them slightly so he could grip the boy's arousal and pump it hard and fast, keeping in time with his thrusts as he continued to move demandingly.

He hissed loudly and flinched at the pain of the slap.

But as the sting set in, he writhed and moaned, biting his lip a little. The initial blow hurt. It always did. Then he got the stinging sensation and melted at it.

Asher adjusted himself a little when Belial lifted his hips then gave a soft groan as his Master began pumping him.

The thrust his hips awkwardly - back against Belial's arousal, then forwards into his hand.

His nails bit into the hard wood and he groaned softly once more.

"Call me names," he whispered between moans. He wanted to feel pathetic. To be told exactly what he was to the man; his whore, his slut, his fuckhole. He wanted to be degraded; to be shown his place under Belial forcefully.