Touched by Angels 1: Angel’s Grace

White. So much white. White on white, brighter than the sun and flooding every inch of Damien’s vision. Then, contrast. Something else, something not-white. Black. The edges of it blurred to nothingness, but they were still there. Then they developed. The white dulled in places, sharpened in others. Damien winced, blinking, eyes dry as dirt, but forced himself to look. Focus. More shapes fell in, became clear. Feathers. A wealth of them made up broad, reaching wings sprawled across his vision. Attached to them was a body, glowing with the warmth of the summer sun. Hair falling gracefully down shoulders in a waterfall of mocoa. Soft cheeks and eyes so blue they glowed. An angel? Had he died? A part of him panicked at the thought, but the all the rest of him could say was,

God, she’s beautiful.

Chestnut lips parted with a sweet ambrosia voice. “Have I entranced you already?”

Damien didn’t notice the giggle in the background, attention locked on the heavenly being looking down on him. She wore a doctor’s coat, loose on the chest but tight at the sleeves, and under it a black v-neck shirt showing just a hint of cleavage. Her legs were wrapped up in a short beige skirt that ruffled with the sound of fabric every time she shifted her stance.

No reply came to his lips. He couldn’t do anything but stare.

“You were right on the money, Nadine. Lethargic from the anesthetics, but that should clear up shortly. Why don’t you hand me that flashlight and I’ll check his responses.”

Blinking, Damien finally tore his eyes away from the beauty. Aside her was a nurse, another angel, smiling at Damien as she followed the beauty’s instruction. Something in his head told him he was supposed to do something at this point, but nothing came to mind. So he stared.

A hand gently raised his chin and his eyes happily returned to the beauty leaning over him. God, those eyes could be an ocean. He was drowning in them already.

“Do you ogle every girl you lay eyes on or are we just that stunning?” said the beauty.

“I bet this one’s a real ladykiller,” said nurse, Nadine.

A bright yellow light flooded his vision and he squinted away, but the beauty held his eyes open.

“Don’t worry, dear, just taking a look at your eyes. I’ll be done in a second.”

Damien kept still.

“Wonderful. You’re looking just fine, I’d say.” She pet his head, pulling his hair back away from his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

The moment he considered the question, his body had a conglomeration of answers. A wave of nausea rose up from his gut, but he held it down.

“Like shit,” he said.

The beauty gave an exaggerated frown and rubbed his shoulder, her touch sending a tingle up and down his arm.

“I’m sorry, I know surgery can be rough, but don’t you worry about that. Nadine here will make sure you’re nice and comfortable. Before you know it, you’ll be hopping on out of here like nothing ever happened. The surgeon did a wonderful job and you’ll have full use of your legs back with a smidgen of therapy.”

Legs? Damien looked down his bed for the first time. Both of his legs were in casts up to the knee and hanging from slings. His first instinct was to try to move them, but he couldn’t feel a thing below his knee, and above it all he got was pain.

Oh. The accident. He’d been jaywalking. The car came up on him too fast. He’d jumped at the last second and while it may have saved him, his legs were not so lucky. Damien’s expression soured. What fucking luck.

A hand cupped his chin and and gave his cheeks a light squeeze.

“Chin up, Damien! You were in a terrible accident and are on course for a full recovery. Not many people can say that,” said the beauty.

The beauty’s smile seemed a touch of mocking now. Chin up? She wasn’t the one who’d been hit by a car.

“I’ve got to run, but I’m leaving you in great hands. If you need anything, let Nadine know and either she or I will get it for you, alright?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Oh, and by the way,” she said, extending her hand, “I’m Doctor Grace. Joanna Grace. I’ll be watching over your stay.”

Damien reluctantly took her hand and shook it. Even a movement as simple as that brought forth a wave of pain and nausea, this time almost overcoming him.

As he listened to Doctor Grace’s heels click out of the room, he stared at the ceiling with one thought running through his head.

This is going to be a long stay.




“Your emergency contact information only listed your brother.” Doctor Grace hummed to herself as she flipped through several pages of documents. “Brent. We contacted him already, is there anyone else?”

It’d been a day since he’d woken up from surgery. He was about to ask Nadine if anyone had stopped by to visit when Doctor Grace had walked in and started asking about that very thing. Or, more precisely, the lack of it.

Damien rolled his eyes inwardly. He wasn’t really surprised no one had shown up, but he couldn’t help but hope. As for Brent, well, that was probably a pretty uneventful call. Damien loved the guy, but he didn’t raise a finger for anyone. That, and he lived 500 miles away. Broken legs probably weren’t enough to get him to visit. Probably.


Grace’s eyebrows raised. “Are you sure? No parents, other siblings, distant relatives, friends?”

Damien looked away out the window. “Don’t have those any more.”

A hint of wistfulness snuck into Grace’s voice. “Really, now. Such a pity.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s sad.”

“Oh dear, that’s not what I meant at all. I was just thinking you might feel a bit… lonely. A healthy, handsome man your age and no nearby family? What a shame.”

A wing reached over and caressed the back of his neck. Soft feathers brushed against his skin and drove their gentle touch all the way to Damien’s spine. He shivered. Grace may have meant it to be comforting, but all he felt was cold. When he turned to look at her, she was watching her wing movements, as if the motions were calculated precision instead of spontaneous empathy.

The look disappeared in an instant, though, replaced by a glowing smile. It reminded him of that immaculate beauty he woke up to.

“While you’re here, I’ll do my best to make sure you’re looked after.”

“Thanks, I guess,” said Damien.

“No need to thank me. You deserve it.” She closed the folder of documents with one quick, snappy motion. “That’s all I needed to ask about that. How have you been?” Grace grinned and glanced over to Nadine, who was currently busy tossing some trash away. “Has she been good to you?” Grace leaned in, using her wing as an impromptu wall to hide their conversation. “Put any good moves on her?”

Damien grumbled to himself, trying to keep from scowling. This was just Grace’s bedside manner. Her job. “Hard to put on moves when I can’t.”

“I can hear you, doctor,” said Nadine. “And no, he’s been a perfectly well-behaved patient. If a little quiet.”

“Well then,” said Grace, pulling up a seat. “What would you like to talk about?”

Damien raised an eyebrow.

“You sure you want to spend your time making small talk with me?”

“Of course. Making my patients comfortable is the best possible use of my time. So, out with it.”

He looked over to Nadine for help, but she just shrugged and went back to her work.

“When will I get out of here?” he asked.

“How about we talk about something other than being stuck in the hospital. Something cheery! What are you planning on doing once you leave?”

“I…” Damien looked down in thought. “don’t know. I guess I’d be sick of being trapped indoors, so I’d probably go outside? Ride my bike?”

Grace laid her hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “That’d be great! The weather will be turning warm soon and there are plenty of bike paths around here to enjoy. Plus, you know how much doctors value staying in shape.”

Damien couldn’t help but smile a bit. As overbearing as Grace could be, her enthusiasm was infectious.

It took all of five seconds for his smile to wilt when his mind went to other things, however. “My job,” he groaned. “There’s no way I’ll keep it through all this.”

“Oh? You have a job?” Grace scribbled a note down. “Where do you work?”

Used to work, now. The car shop down near 31st. Monty’s.”

“Monty’s,” she said to herself as she wrote. “I’ll let them know. I’m sure I can arrange for you to come back when you’re better.”

Damien frowned. Was that part of her job or a favor? Surely she didn’t do this for all of her patients.

“Any other big plans?” she asked.


Both of them turned to look at Nadine, who’d just cleared her throat. She was holding a bucket and a sponge.

Oh no, thought Damien. Is she really going to give me a sponge bath?

“Here,” said Grace, holding her hands out. “I’ll take care of it.”

That’s even worse!

“Really, doctor? I’m completely comfortable doing it myself, I’ve done it plenty of times before. I’d hate to take you away from other important duties.”

“This is one of those important duties, Nadine. Come now, hand it over.”

“I was going to change his sheets as well. And his pillow.”

“Not a problem.”

Nadine and Grace stared at each other a moment, the former confused, the latter hopeful. Grace’s wings gave a flutter.

Nadine sighed and handed the bucket and sponge over. “Far be it for me to get between you and your patient.” She smirked. “I guess this is why they love you so much.”

“Nadine, you’re too kind. They don’t all love me.”

“You try, though.” Nadine looked to Damien and jabbed a finger at him. “You are one lucky dog.”

“Seems that way, huh,” he said with a weak smile.

Nadine walked out of the room, throwing a wave over her shoulder. “See you two later!”

Part of Damien had hoped she would stay. It wasn’t so much that he wanted an audience, but rather that Doctor Grace seemed a touch too enthusiastic about everything and maybe Nadine being here would temper her.

Then again, Grace had been nothing but professional. Why should he think this was going to be any different?

“So, uh, what exactly are you going to clean with that? My back?”

“A little more than that,” said Grace. “Please take off your gown, if you would.”

He swallowed. “What was that?”

Grace pulled a shade down over the small window on the door to the hallway, then walked over to the blinds and shut them. She then sat back down wheeled her stool up close. Close enough for him to smell her—a thick, floral scent that hit him with a wave of lightheadedness.  “Nothing to be nervous about, dear, we do this all the time.” A wing reached over and pat him on the head. “Come now, off with your clothes.”

“Ah-alright.” From the heat on his face, he knew he was beet red. He fumbled with the knot on the back of his gown, but he couldn’t get a good grip on it. It was surprisingly hard to maneuver with his legs immobile and hanging as they were. After a few moments of trying to pull it undone, he felt another pair of hands join his.

His hands snapped back and he looked at Grace, who met him with a warm smile.

“I know it’s not easy to undo this knot and you’re hardly the first to have trouble with it. But I can keep a secret.” Her fingers and knuckles digging into his back as she undid the knot sent shivers up his spine—but the chill when her hands withdrew, taking his gown with them, was ten times worse. Thankfully, the sheets were still covering up his waist and below.

The tension must have shown on his face because Grace was cooing soft words of encouragement.

“It’s alright to feel a shaky, I know you’re not used to it. But you’re also probably feeling a little mucky after doing nothing but sitting in bed, so just lay back and let me clean you up, alright?”

He had a feeling there was clearly a right and a wrong reply here.

“Okay,” he said.

She brightened up at that, sitting up straight and ruffling her hand through his hair. “Wonderful. Now I’ll try to be gentle, but make sure to tell me if I’m rubbing a bit too hard or I hit a sore spot, okay?”

Damien nodded.

“And don’t look so gloomy! This’ll be fun. It’ll let your skin breathe a little, you’ll feel so refreshed afterward, and you get some time to chat with your favorite doctor.” Her grin widened at the last part.

Damien found himself with a small smile on. Everything Grace did was so overwhelmingly cheery, so genuine and so, well, graceful that he couldn’t bring himself to be grumpy about being stuck in bed at the moment. It was possible she didn’t actually feel sorry for him and it was an act, but damn if it wasn’t a good one.

He flinched at the first touch of the sponge, but Grace drew it across his chest slow and gentle, just like she said. He gave her a nervous smile which she responded to by rubbing the back of his neck with a wing. Her feathers grazed along his skin with a touch more complex and airy than the sponge. After a minute under Grace’s careful attention, Damien finally allowed himself to relax.

Grace squeezed out the sponge and laid it over Damien’s chest again. “So, handsome, how did you end up here all alone?”

“My parents…” He paused to take in a deep breath—Grace’s wing kept seeming to steal those away. “My parents left the country a few years back after me and my brother got settled. Wanted to see more of the world. My brother got a job in a little town pretty far away, and I found something here. So I guess you could say that’s how life ended up.”

“Mmm.” Grace hummed in contemplation. “And the accident?”

“A moment of stupidity.”


Damien cocked his head and was about to ask her what she meant when the sponge wandered down low. Very low.

“Oops,” said Grace, withdrawing. “We don’t need to go down there quite yet.” She was instead content to rub in circles on his stomach, slowing the closer she got to his waist.

The tension creeped back in.

“Are you comfortable so far?”

“Y-yeah.” Even with the water from the spongebath still drying on him, his body was heating up. “Nadine’s been great. And I guess the bed’s fine too. Would be nice to get those off,” he said, pointing to the giant casts on his legs.

“As soon as we can, we will. Assuming you behave.” She chuckled at the last part.

What did she mean, like not trying to walk before he was ready? He could hardly get out of bed like this!

“Any pain?”

“Well, now that I’m getting feeling back in my legs, yeah, they’re sore as hell. But I’m assuming that’s just part of recovering.”

“It doesn’t have to be. I’ll see if we can’t make you a little more comfortable. Let me check the pumps.”

Grace stood up, setting aside the sponge, and reached over Damien to the drug pumps at the other side of the bed. And with the bed as wide as it was, she really had to reach. She planted one hand next to Damien’s side and a second later her bosom came swinging right into his face.

He sucked in a breath in surprise, giving him the full force of her scent. It was so thick he thought he might pass out, yet delightfully intoxicating enough to make him want to breathe in again. Did she know what she was doing? Or was she just so focused on her job that she was oblivious? With all that cheeriness, it was possible she was bit of an airhead.

Damien fought to keep his hands at his sides. She would definitely notice if he started moving around. After a few seconds that lasted minutes, Grace finally stood back up straight.

“There we go,” she said. “That should be enough.” She looked at Damien, face glowing. “Feeling drowsy at all? It usually hits pretty fast.”

“Drowsy? Why…”

It hit him like a wall. His head fell to the bed, eyes rolling about and eyelids heavy as lead. The room around him blurred and faded to black. The last thing he saw was Grace, hovering over him and smiling, an empty syringe in hand.




White. So much white. White on white, brighter than the sun, flooding through every inch of Damien’s vision. Then, contrast. Something else, something not-white. Black. More shapes fell in, became clear. Feathers. A wealth of them made up broad, reaching wings sprawled across his vision. Attached to them was a body, glowing with the warmth of the summer sun. Soft cheeks and eyes so blue they glowed. An angel? He panicked, the first thought running through his head screaming,

Oh my god, she drugged me.

He called out. Or, at least, tried to, but all his throat managed was a cough.

“There, there,” said Grace, laying a hand on his head. “You’re just coming out of it, it’ll take a moment.”

Grace sat next to the bed, legs crossed and barely hiding underneath her short, form-fitting skirt. Her doctor’s coat was unbuttoned, showing off a dark shirt that revealed notably more of her chest than the one she wore last time he saw her. Whatever statement she was trying to make with her clothes, however, Damien wasn’t listening. He shot her a grimace.

“Oh, don’t pout, you’re fine.”

Nadine. Where was Nadine? Hell, any nurse at all! Damien rolled his head to the side, looking around the room, but it was only him and Grace. Remembering the nurse call button, he reached to press it—only to find he was unable to move his hands. Tight leather clasps held his wrists to the metal bed frame. No matter how hard he yanked, he couldn’t get his wrists free or even loose. With his legs still slung up in casts, he was totally and utterly trapped.

He sucked in a big breath to cry out, but Grace’s hand was over his mouth lightning fast.

“Now, now, no need for that. You had an awful seizure, dear, and I had to strap you down for your own safety. We don’t want you hurting yourself if it happens again, do we?”

Her wing extended to pat down his forehead which he now realized was dripping with sweat. He tried to jerk his head away, but her wing was persistent and he had no room to struggle. While he accepted it, he did so with a glare.

“Why are you doing this?” he said.

“Because I’m your doctor and I could see you needed help. All alone, no family or friends around, getting yourself into reckless accidents, that’s no way for a man your age to be living.”

One of her soft hands began grazing over his chest, fingers dipping into the grooves of his form, their tender touch sending waves of goosebumps over his body.

“I’m perfectly happy with my life, thank you, now let me go!”

“Shh,” she said, the other wing coming down to cover his mouth. “No need to raise your voice. I’m just trying to help, you know.”

“By tying me to my bed?”

“You weren’t exactly hopping out of bed before.” Grace gestured to his casts. “Besides, it’s important to make sure you’re not cheating.”

“Cheating? On wh—”

Her hand made a deliberate move lower, slipping under his gown and resting on his cock. She didn’t squeeze or even fondle it, just let her hand lay there while she stared at him, soaking in his reaction.

“A good doctor always knows what her patient needs. It’s very difficult to help, though, if you don’t behave. You can behave, right?”

Her pointer finger ran up and down the side of his cock, stirring within him urges that he dare not submit to. He bit his lip hard, leering at Grace, trying to pull his attention away from her devious hand, but her gentle smile eroded his will the longer he stared into it. Even in duplicity she was painfully genuine.

No, not genuine. Insane. This doctor was crazy.

“A nurse is coming to check up on you now. I hope you don’t disappoint me, it’d be awful to have to punish my patient before we really got to know each other. Might start us off on the wrong foot.”

“Start off on the wrong foot? Seriously?”

Doctor Grace stood up and took a step back just as the door behind her opened. A nurse Damien hadn’t seen before walked in and gave him a smile. Damien frowned and glanced over to Grace. She’d probably had Nadine moved elsewhere. Didn’t want anyone familiar with Damien to get in her way.

“Damien,” said the nurse, “I’m Beth, nice to meet you. I’m just here to—”

“Take these straps off, please!” he said, pulling at his wrists. “I need them off!”

Beth was wholly unprepared. She froze, looked at Damien, then his straps, then to Grace. “Umm, didn’t Doctor Grace already explain why they’re there?”

“She’s crazy. I don’t know what she told you, but it was a lie. I don’t need them, she’s just trying to keep me trapped here. Please, please take them off!”

“Trapped? Why would…” Beth trailed off, taking a step back.

No, don’t run! thought Damien. Let me go!

Beth’s worried eyes darted back and forth between Grace and Damien. Then they lingered on Grace and her face slowly transformed from shock to recognition. A smile grew wide on Beth before she burst into laughter.

“You got me good, Doctor Grace! Oh goodness, do you do this to every new nurse around here?” She wiped her forehead and walked over to Damien’s bed to check his readings. “They warned me about you but I had no idea you’d get your patients involved too!”

Damien’s expression fell. Grace was a prankster? Then that would make his protests look…

His eyes snapped to Grace. She was sitting up straight, composed, barely holding back laughter. The exact sort of face Damien would expect from someone trying to play a prank on him. And Beth fell for it.

“This isn’t a joke!” he said, yanking on his arms. “Let me go!”

“You’re a pretty good actor, too,” said Beth. “What’d Doctor Grace promise you for playing along? A fancy meal? I know the cafeteria food can be a bit dull sometimes.”

“Nothing! I’m not acting! Please!”

Something flashed across Beth’s face. Concern? Doubt? Maybe Damien was getting through to her. But whatever it was, it was gone in a moment.

“Okay, that’s everything I needed to see. And from your behavior, you seem like you’re feeling fine, too, so I won’t bother with the usual interrogation. Let Doctor Grace know if you start feeling different, alright?”

Damien opened his mouth to speak again, but the air vanished from his lungs when something jabbed him right in the kidney. He looked down to see Grace had her hand on his side, digging into just the right spot to knock the wind out of him.

“That’s enough, you’ve earned your fancy meal,” said Grace. “We almost got her. Maybe we’ll have more luck with the next nurse that checks up on you.”

The color drained from his face. Grace was playing right into her cover story.

“Are you sure you’re good watching him?” Beth asked Grace. “You know we could just get a nurse to do it for you.”

“Thanks for coming, Beth,” said Grace. “Don’t worry about me.”

She nodded. “Alright then. Later, Doctor Grace.”

The door’s closing was like a portcullis grinding shut, sealing Damien’s hope off with an impenetrable barrier. Grace shrugged to herself, clicking the lock shut, and threw an exasperated look over her shoulder at Damien.

“Oh well, I guess we’ll have to start with the punishment,” said Grace.

Damien found a renewed strength, thrashing his arms about, giving all his might to freeing his hands from their bonds. He twisted his body, and tried to use the slings holding his leg casts for leverage, but all he got was a fresh wave of pain. Sweat dripped down his face as his attempts grew more frantic.

Grace simply stood over him, arms crossed under her breasts as she watched.

“You really shouldn’t struggle so much, I’d hate to see you make your injuries worse. And you’ll probably need that energy later.”

Soon Damien had exhausted himself, but after a look at Grace, he decided he wasn’t done yet.

“Help!” His voice was hoarse from a dry mouth, and his posture kept him from drawing in the full strength of his lungs, but it was still a yell. “Help!”

“You really are set on misbehaving, aren’t you?” Grace reached inside her white coat and pulled out a strip of cloth. Before Damien could figure out what it was for, she pulled it taught, shoved it in his mouth and tied it tight around his head.

He gnashed his teeth, grinding them back and forth over the cloth, but it held. Twisting his neck, he tried to get his head close enough to his hands to undo the knot, but couldn’t reach. Grace had everything covered. She’d planned this, probably from the moment he’d come in. Damien shot Grace a withering glare.

Seeing him calm down, Grace beamed and glided over to the end of the bed. She positioned herself between his hanging legs, then reached in and had his gown off in a single motion. Carefully, she laid it aside, like a piece of laundry straight out of the washer.

He was completely exposed before her, and the predatory smile on her face made him feel even more naked. Before she started, though, she grabbed a small bottle of lotion and spread it thoroughly over her hands.

“You know, we could’ve been having a nice chat if you hadn’t insisted on that yelling.”

Damien didn’t have the heart to retort. Or, rather, whatever he would’ve come up with would’ve been immediately stolen by her hands.

His breath caught in his throat as her hands swallowed his cock, a chill touch punctuated by precision and vigor. She traveled up and down his shaft with purpose, pausing to cover the head as she peaked and his balls as she crested. His body involuntarily squirmed under her touch.

“Today’s been exhausting,” said Grace, eyes on her hands. “First I needed to move you this room. Then I had to get Nadine moved to another patient because she might have actually believed you. I had to get a little lucky with Beth, too. She’s one of the newer nurses. Can’t always predict how they’ll react. If she’d gone to Thessa…”

Damien narrowed his eyes. Why was she telling him this?

Grace glanced up, seeing him meet her eyes, then grinned as her hands sped up. Once more, those smooth, expert fingers smothered his cock, shocking his member with a lightning storm of bliss. Shivering, Damien moaned and threw his head back.

“But that wasn’t even all of it! Janice, the receptionist, scoffed at me this morning when I told her I’d be taking you under my personal supervision. She hates it when doctors actually take a hands-on approach to care, like it’s some kind of sin.” She shook her head. “I swear, working with a bunch of angels can really wear on me sometimes.”

Damien would’ve pointed out she was one too, if not for the gag.

One of her hands slipped off his shaft and groped his balls, giving them a slow massage with her thumb. “You should try to be like my other patients. They’re all so well-behaved. They listen to all of my instructions, don’t try to get out of bed, and they certainly don’t yell at the nurses.” The hand on his shaft tightened its grip and began to speed up, eliciting another moan from Damien. “Sometimes I wonder why I even try. But I believe in you. I think with a little work you’ll be a better patient than anyone else.”

That’s because you’re not tying them to their beds! Damien screamed in his head.

As her hands continued their work, Damien squirmed. He tried pulling his hips away but there was no room to get away.

“That Janice! Ooh, I just remembered she said I was going to have to fill out all the transfer paperwork myself. That’s her job! Heaven above, I wonder what they even pay her to do.”

Grace pumped harder. Her hands made vulgar, slick sounds from the lotion as they moved up and down, a firm grip with a careful attention to his cockhead. On occasion, a hand would drift over his tip, palming it while rubbing back and forth in a brutal rhythm.

“Do you know how annoying those forms are to fill out? Room numbers, patient names, descriptions as long as an essay, approval signatures, ward supervisor signatures, special considerations, and you have to do it twice if you have to move a patient out of a room you’re moving the first patient into!”

It was all Damien could do to hold himself still and resist the urge to thrust into that fervent hand and push himself over the edge. She clamped down harder, sending fireworks of pleasure through his cock. Resisting those devious hands only grew more difficult with each stroke.

“You’d think that as old as this hospital was, they’d figure out a better system for all of this. And how does someone like Janice get to make the decisions about who does and doesn’t do paperwork? I should go to my boss and give her a word or two about this. It’s ridiculous how—oh!”

Grace’s hands disappeared in an instant, robbing Damien of the release he so desperately needed. He opened his eyes and frantically looked up at Grace then his bare cock, throbbing red with need. Why? Why did she stop?

Grace relaxed, shooting Damien a smile. “You are such a good listener. I know, I shouldn’t let Janice get me all worked up like that, though I do need to finish that paperwork. You don’t mind if I do that in here, do you?”

He gnashed at the gag, trying to spit at her, but only succeeded in making himself look foolish.

“Great.” She wiped her lotion-slick hands off on a towel then picked up a thick manila folder and a pen. Focused on the folder, she sat down on a stool and raised her pen, but paused. She scooted to the left, then the right, then looked down at her stool. “This thing is not comfortable for working on. I wonder if…” Her gaze wandered around the room for a moment before landing on Damien’s lap. “Oh! That looks wonderful.”

His eyes widened.

Sure enough, Grace came over, approaching from the end of the bed, and sat down on him, digging her ass into his stomach, inches from his still-throbbing cock. Damien grunted and pushed out his gut to try to throw her off, but he didn’t have near enough leverage or strength for it.

He gasped.

Her thick thighs clamped together, cocooning his cock in their voluptuous grip. His entire body tensed when Grace flexed her leg muscles, crushing Damien’s cock even tighter.

Grace threw a look back at Damien. “Sorry, I didn’t ask, but this is alright with you, isn’t it? I just really need to get this done and that chair was not working.” She’d turned back around before he could answer, fluttering her wings back at him like a bird would trying to balance itself on a perch.

The assault started slow. At first, it was a simple stretching and loosening of the muscles along her thighs. Just enough to keep Damien hard while holding that precious climax down to nothing more than a distant stirring. Soon, however, Grace started to absentmindedly shift her stance, rubbing her thighs against each other with Damien’s cock a hapless prisoner to their whims. As smooth as they were, Damien could hear the sound of skin against skin, a subtle brushing that made his mouth water.

While he could only see the back of Grace’s head, he could see her attention was directed at the folder in her hand and the rough noise of pen on paper told him she really was working on something other than him.

As her rapturous torture wore on, Damien lost track of time. It could’ve been mere minutes or hours that his release was kept at the whims of her thighs. Whenever he could feel that unavoidable pressure build in his cock to the point of bursting, Grace would slow and sometimes withdraw altogether. And when his cock would dare to soften even the slightest bit, Grace would swoop in with an undulating attack of her creamy thighs, intense to the point he would couldn’t help but moan.

With a yawn, Grace stretched, her arms and wings extending out as far as they could. Damien spasmed as her legs moved as well, clenching together harder than ever before. Even unable to see them, he could make out their perfect, toned shape from the pressure on his cock. Grace returned to her work, the quick scribbling of the pen resuming, but now her thighs were more focused. Constantly they moved back and forth, squeezing and relaxing, soft one moment and firm the next. Just as before, the rumblings of climax began to build up.

She then hooked her knees together and brought her thighs up and down, hitting Damien with a new level of euphoria that sucked the breath straight from his lungs. A spark of hope lit within him. Was this it? Which each pump of those all-encompassing thighs, Damien gave himself more and more into them, concentrating on their touch, allowing them to steal every thought.

He started to thrust, hungry for more, damning Grace for her skill. But the moment he thought Grace would finally deliver him from his need, her thighs loosened and spread apart. Damien grumbled, trying to find their welcoming embrace again, but Grace would have none of it.

Release faded away, so far away Damien feared he would never know it. He whimpered, thrusting pointlessly into the open air. Grace looked over her shoulder at him and wagged a wing in such a way to say, ‘Naughty boy.’

He bit down and yelled at Grace through the gag, trying once more to throw her off. Deep down, he knew it was exactly the reaction she wanted, but did it anyways. He wouldn’t let her win. He couldn’t.

“Thank you for offering yourself as a chair,” said Grace, standing up. “It helped me concentrate enough to get this done. It’ll feel much better to have Janice off my back.”

I don’t care if Janice is off your back, Damien wanted to say, leering.

She deflected the look with a grin. “Good, you’re still full of energy. I can make use of that. But…” She looked up at the clock on the wall. “It’s a touch late for anything more today.”

Damien didn’t know whether to relax or whimper. His cock was still rock hard, naked against the cold air of the hospital room.

“I know, I know, I wish I could do more too. Now,” She walked up to the side of the bed, leaned close and ran a hand through Damien’s hair. The touch of her nails scratching his scalp gave him goosebumps. “I don’t want to keep having to punish you. I’d love to reward my patient so much more than punishing him. I know this gag is a real bother and I’d like to take it off. I could leave it on and tell the nurses you were trying to bite your tongue and no one would think twice. But I don’t think you want that any more than I do. So, if I take this off, will you behave?”

Damien shrunk underneath the powerful gaze of those pure blue eyes. He remembered thinking how beautiful they were when he first saw them, but now he saw the whole of it. Authority. Dominance. Intelligence. They were an ocean, just like he thought, but he never considered how dangerous the ocean was. How easy one could find themselves alone, drifting, and drowning. She knew all the nurses so much better than him. Knew how to manipulate them. And whoever she couldn’t manipulate, she’d just transfer away.

He nodded.

Grace smiled, reached behind him, and a moment later the gag was gone. She spun it around her finger, looking at Damien as if she was expecting him to say something.

“Thank… thank you,” he said.

“Wonderful!” She slipped the gag back into her pocket. “Now you get yourself some rest. Those legs have got a ways to go until they’re healed and I’ll need you ready for tomorrow.”

Heels clicking against the floor, Grace walked out, giving Damien one last wave of a wing as she left. When the door clicked shut, Damien laid back into the bed, wondering if, indeed, he’d be ready for tomorrow.




Damien was not ready for tomorrow.

It started out well enough, sure. A new nurse came in and checked on him, cleaned the room up, and asked him if there was anything he needed. He considered telling her to undo the straps, but remembered Beth. And the subtle warning from Doctor Grace last night. No, the nurses were not how’d he would escape. If he wanted to escape.

That last thought chilled him more than Grace’s touch.

The morning was hardly over when Grace walked in. The mere scent of her—a sweet aroma thick enough to drown in—stirred his arousal. Today she dressed a touch more provocative, her doctor’s coat left open and underneath a shirt with enough undone buttons to expose a healthy amount of cleavage.

“Good afternoon, Damien,” she said.

He mumbled a reply.

“Didn’t get enough sleep? That’s too bad.”

Without another word, Grace deftly popped open another few buttons on her top, letting her tits hang out. She smiled and sighed. “They have been so choked in there today.”

The next thing he knew, Grace was on top of the bed with him, fumbling with his hospital gown.

“H-hey!” he said, squirming. “Can’t we discuss this at all?”

Grace looked up and gave him a flat stare. “Dear, that would imply you have some sort of leverage with which to change my mind.”

“I can’t keep this up.”

“That’s why it’s important I train you. Something as mild as what I’ve done this far shouldn’t get you all worked up.” She drew her hair back, prompting her exposed tits to bounce.


Grace came back around to the side of the bed. “You poor thing.” Her arms snaked under Damien’s back and lifted him up. Concerned, Damien tried to look back and see what she was doing. He soon got his answer.

Climbing onto the bed with him, Grace slipped her legs under Damien’s back and let him down. Her smooth, bare thighs pressed against his back and her hand found its way to the back of his head. She scooted forward, placing her bosom mere inches in front of his face.

She was holding him like a baby.

“Now, I’ve found it’s always important to use positive reinforcement with patients, especially when they’re feeling depressed or defeated. So you just lie back and let me help you.”

Without warning, her hand pounced upon his cock. Damien yelped in surprise, a rush of pleasure and icy cold reverberating through his body. His hips shot upward on instinct, but Grace merely held him, not yet giving him the stimulation he sorely wanted. God, to have that smooth, dexterous hand pumping him again…

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? The purpose of this,” she said as her thumb began to trace circles on his shaft, “is to demonstrate rewards for good behavior.” She turned to him and smiled. “And to get your mind off those sore legs of yours. Just do what comes naturally.”

He was about to ask what she meant when the hand on the back of his head pushed him gently but firmly into her tits. Tentatively, he opened his mouth, tasting the sweet flavor of Grace’s skin and taking in a mouthful of Grace’s intoxicating scent. At that, her thumb moved up an inch on his cock, barely teasing the edge of his cock head. He looked up, but Grace had nothing more to say, just that disarming grin she had down so well.

With another urging from the hand on his head, Damien licked again, and was again treated to more stimulation from Grace’s hand on his cock. If that was her game, he was all too eager to play it. He latched onto her nipple and sucked. His tongue darted out, playing back and forth. When her hand began to pump, he lost his breath.

It was slow, yes, but it was the only thing that mattered. Those wonderful fingers grazing up and down his length, tight but not fierce, careful but not bashful. He pushed his face further into Grace’s bosom, tongue on the attack, twirling and lapping at her nipple.

“Good boy,” said Grace. “Just like that.”

The bindings on his wrists caught, preventing him from diving further into her tit. He snorted in frustration, but didn’t dare stop. The hand on the back of his head dug into his hair, fingernails grazing against his scalp, while the hand on his cock grew faster. It’s pumping became more precise, twisting and twirling along his length. To keep him on edge she would dip away from his sensitive tip and greedily grope his balls, swallowing them with her warm palm to give them a light squeeze before returning to his shaft.

As her nipple got harder and drenched with his saliva, Grace rolled her head back and moaned, then ran her hand through his hair, almost like petting him.

“Deep breaths, in and out. Good boy. Keep it up,” she cooed.

No matter how focused Damien may have been, it was never enough to get Grace to abandon her teasing or lose her composure. She sat up straight, looking down at him, happy but composed. Damien sucked mightily on her nipple and perked up when her hand grew even faster, but no amount of suction or licking could get it to pump fast enough.

Somehow, even with everything Grace had put him through, climax eluded him.

His bindings kept reminding him how restricted he was. Grace’s guiding hand on his head also prevented him from pulling away to catch his breath and recuperate. Any sort of resistance only slowed the hand on his cock while the other forced him back onto her breast. Frustrated, Damien bit down.

Grace moaned, a shiver running through her body, and the pumping hand rewarded him heartily. She shifted to his cockhead, cupping it in her palm as it rotated, then closed her fingers and stroked his head directly. He thrusted into her, feeling an orgasm building up, but her hand drifted away and settled back on his balls.

Growling, Damien bit down again, and once more Grace moaned, but her hand left his cockhead alone, content to pump and twist around his shaft.

“Please!” he mumbled into her breast. “I’m begging you!”

But to talk he had to stop sucking, which only earned a tut from Grace. Her hand stopped.

“You’ll get it when you’ve earned it.”

He gnashed his teeth, eyes red with tears, but went back to her tit anyways. If he could just find some trigger, some sensitive spot, maybe she would finally…

He planted kisses around her nipple, and her hand went back to work, but its movements were lazy. Unfocused. Nothing like the skilled gripping and pumping from before. He tilted his head, reaching his tongue lower on her breast. Her hand continued with more of the same. Moving back up, he traced circles with his tongue, lapping up the salty taste of her skin, spiraling inward before smothering her nipple. She squeezed his cock with her pointer and thumb, rolling her fingers in a tight ring along his shaft before hitting his cockhead and brushing against his tip.

Jaw and tongue sore beyond exhaustion, Damien almost stopped there, but his arousal wouldn’t allow it. He would find a way. Leaning further forward, he took Grace’s hard nipple and clamped it between his molars.

The effect was instant.

A trill, stretched out moan escaped her lips and her hand clamped down on Damien’s cock. She jerked fast and efficiently with fierce grip swiveling all over his cock. At the peak of each pump, she would roll over his tip, ensuring to smother every last inch of his exposed member.

Damien practically squealed in delight, but this time, he didn’t forget his job. He kept biting—not rough, but still hard—and kept his misbehaving hips from thrusting and ruining everything again. With each practiced pump, Grace drew him closer and closer, driving him like a train toward that impossible bliss of light. He closed his eyes, giving in everything to that wonderful hand.

It disappeared.

Damien cried out, pulling away from Grace and staring at her in shock. It was going to be different this time! He thrashed about, tugging on the bindings harder than ever before.

“No! No! I earned it!”

“You did a very good job and I’m proud of you. But you haven’t earned it yet.”

“You can’t leave me like this!”

Grace wagged her finger at him and clicked her tongue. “Now, now, your doctor knows what’s best. And don’t forget what I said about behaving with that mouth of yours.” She pulled out the gag from yesterday and waved it around. “You don’t want to have to go back to this, do you?”

Damien shrunk back down into the bed. If he could just get these straps off, god, the things he would do! But this powerlessness, this complete vulnerability—no amount of anger or despair could will him to cum, not under Grace’s careful eye.

He watched as Grace walked about the room, humming to herself, busy tweaking his equipment, checking his straps, and inspecting his legs. She was, strange as it might sound, actually being a doctor.

That is, until she saw his cock starting to soften.

Sighing, she pulled up a stool between Damien’s hanging legs. A small smile appeared on her face when his cock twitched in anticipation. With a swing of her head, she drew her hair back and leaned forward, resting her chest on the bed and, conveniently, smothering Damien’s cock between her breasts. She crossed her arms around her breasts and crushed them together. Damien sucked in a sharp breath as his cock was engulfed in cleavage, plush walls of skin holding him in a complete embrace.

“You remember Beth, right?” Grace asked.

Damien squinted, trying to think through the assault of sensations on his cock. “I guess?”

“Well, she has been doing everything within her power to be annoying. Yesterday she asked me about you three times! Like there was something to untoward going on. She wouldn’t just take ‘stop worrying about it’ as an answer. Some of these nurses can be so nosy!”

Scowling, Grace absentmindedly pushed her breasts up and down along Damien’s cock, forcing a moan up his throat. She moved with a precise rhythm that massaged every part of Damien’s cock all at once, yet from her expression, she hadn’t put an inkling of thought or effort into it.

“And behind my back, she manipulated who’d be your nurse after you were transferred, trying to get another busybody who would’ve asked way more questions than any nurse has business asking. It’s like they don’t think your doctor knows what she’s doing!”

Her arms tightened, pressing her tits even harder into Damien’s cock. His eyes went wide and he arched his back to drive himself deeper into Grace’s embrace, which accepted him happily.

“I’ve been working here ten years, and she just started last month! What does she know? Who does she think she is, questioning me?”

Grace uncrossed her arms and moved her hands to push her breasts together, shifting her grip to undulate the pressure consuming Damien’s cock. With long, slow circles, she ran that heavenly cage of malleable breast up and down Damien’s length. Grumbling to herself, Grace looked out the window. She didn’t need to watch her chest to know exactly what she was doing.

Damien started panting after several minutes under Grace’s careful ministrations. Pulse after pulse of her tits massaging his cock, he could once more feel the stirring deep within his balls. He tried to fight it off, cursing himself for allowing that bit of hope, but Grace was too skilled, too relentless. As hard as he might fight, Damien could not deny his body.

The moment his arousal headed toward that peak, however, Grace took her hands away, allowing nothing but the weight of her tits to hold Damien’s cock between them. He desperately tried to thrust into them, but all he managed to do was spread them apart. Without Grace to hold them he’d never find the stimulation he needed.

Damien waited in silence as his arousal faded. But his cock barely had the chance to relax before Grace pressed her breasts between her arms and devoured his cock again.

“I know I shouldn’t let Beth get me all worked up, but I can’t help it! I’ve finally found the perfect patient and all she can do is get in the way! I bet she’s working with Janice. Oooh, Janice is just the kind of person to do this to me, too!”

Grace threw her chest up and down, eyes growing darker with her tone.

“Who put that stick up her ass? I swear, next time this happens, I am going straight to the administrator! The moment she sees behind that sly little smile Janice always wears, she’ll kick Janice straight to the curb like she deserves! And Beth, oh, I’m sure I can come up with something for her.”

Faster and faster her breasts pumped, dragging Damien closer and closer to the edge. He screamed at himself to stop, to pull away, but his hips didn’t obey him. They couldn’t. That blissful cocoon of Grace’s bosom squeezed, caressed, kneaded and hugged his cock to oblivion. No matter how hard he tried to close his eyes, plug his ears, the tempest of pleasure bombarding his cock would not be ignored.

Grace furiously ran her breasts up and down now, compacting them further with her arms, lighting Damien’s body up with pure ecstasy. He finally surrendered to them, thrusting with all his might, begging to himself, to Grace, to anyone who would hear that this time, this time he could finally cum.

“After all the years I’ve given this hospital, I won’t be driven out by two little annoyances. If they insist on pushing me, I’ll make them regret the day they messed with Doctor Grace!”

But she stopped. Damien cried out and threw his hips against her bosom, but she was already pulling away, straightening her hair, standing up and smiling, content with herself. The sore, red, painfully-erect cock before her only grew her smile, and as Damien moaned and flailed in the wake of the terrible denial, she leaned down and kissed his tip.

He collapsed, staring at the ceiling, panting and sweating the pain away. This was to be his existence. Every day, she would find a way to make him hope. She would coo at him, smile at him, act like the most caring doctor in the world, then steal it all away in an instant him like pulling a rug from under his feet. His legs might heal in time, but she’d find a way to keep him here. There’d be some excuse she’d make, some deal she’d land with someone to move him, keep anyone from noticing, and repeat the process all over again.

He flinched when Grace pat his head.

“You’ve done such a good job today. I’m proud of you. I think you’re ready for a reward. Tomorrow. Sleep tight.”

With a kiss on his forehead, she was gone.

Damien did not get much sleep that night.




The next morning, Damien wasn’t woken up by a nurse like he expected. He woke far later than usual alone. Did he sleep through the nurse’s visit? Or was maybe today was different somehow? He caught himself mid-yawn. Oh. The reward. A new way to do the same thing she’d been doing the last couple days, most likely.

Damien tried the bonds on his hands. They were new. Tighter, too. He frowned. He’d been hoping Grace wouldn’t have been paying attention to them and let his struggling wear them out, but it was clear that wasn’t the case. And just as he was thinking of another way to get out, the door opened.

“Good morning, dear,” said Grace.

Today was definitely different. In addition to the usual conservative doctor’s coat and business casual, Grace was wearing white silk stockings that hugged her toned legs. Her grin was brighter and her steps had more bounce to them, like a chickadee bouncing to the new warmth of the first day of spring.

The click of the deadbolt lock sliding into place made Damien jump. He stared at her as she walked across the room and set a bag down on the counter. What was she thinking behind that smile?

Carefully, like it was some sort of medical procedure, Grace removed her coat, then began to unbutton her shirt. When she pulled it off, Damien could see a white silk bra that matched her stockings. Her skirt dropped off as well, exposing matching pantyhose. She pulled out a pair of similar silk gloves and turned around to show her grin off to Damien. Watching his reaction, Grace slipped the gloves over her hands with unhurried purpose then wiggled her fingers to test them out.

“Well?” she said, presenting the ensemble to Damien.

Disturbed perversions could take nothing away from Grace’s body. Her skin was flawless, begging to be touched. Damien could feel his hands ache in the absence of it. Her fitness made her shape solid but not rigid, feminine but sturdy. Somehow the beauty of her hair came through so much more vehemently without clothes to distract from it, a soft mocoa that glimmered in the morning light. And a moment later, through the stale hospital air, he could catch the first hints of her saccharine lilac scent.

“I can see someone has already made up their mind about it,” she said.

Damien followed her gaze to his member, already half-hard and rising. Grace controlled it more than he did at this point.

“You’re so quiet today. Excited, maybe?” she asked.

“No,” he lied.

“Ooh, scared then? Even better.”

She approached the bed, grabbed the straps on one of Damien’s arms, and began to do fiddle with it. Damien strained to get a good look. Was she going to let him go? Did she trust him that much?

He felt a hint of slack on the strap and immediately pulled his wrist away, but it was still stuck fast. Only by twisting his body was he able to get a better look.

Grace had shifted his binding to some sort of flexible metal arm attached to the ceiling. From the arm’s length, she could have his wrists suspended however which way she liked. Once finished with the first wrist she moved to the other.

“What are you doing?” said Damien.

“Just getting you ready.” She kissed his head. “Don’t worry, we’ll get started soon enough.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“So many questions. Is that anxiety rising in your voice? Whatever could be causing it?” A wing reached over and pat him on the head. “Just relax. You’ll understand in a moment.”

He wanted to understand now. But with no leverage, all Damien could do was suffer the wait.

Once Grace had him all strapped up, he tested the metal arms’ robustness. Unfortunately, they didn’t move an inch. Only when Grace moved the arms herself via a small panel in the wall behind Damien did they budge. His wrists were pulled up, forcing him into a sitting position until his weight just barely started to come off the bed. Then the metal arms moved outward to hold his arms in a ‘Y’ position. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but he didn’t have any leverage to struggle. It took all the strength in his arms to start lifting himself off the bed. His legs felt even more like dead weight than before.

“Perfect,” said Grace, examining Damien. “Are you ready to get started?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. Like a lover coming to bed, she slipped in behind Damien, hugging him with the entirety of her body. That pristine touch of skin he craved so madly before drove his senses aflame. Her silken fingers grazed across his chest as if searching for something with all the urgency of a middling tortoise. Her legs cupped his hips, embracing them with sinfully smooth and iron strong thighs. He heard her suck in a long, deep breath of his neck.

“Mmm.” She hummed contentedly. “Do you know why I became a doctor?”

Damien stayed silent. How could he possibly know the answer to that?

Her hands wandered lower, to his stomach, now tracing circles around his belly button. “Come, dear, you can at least guess.”

“Y-you like the coat?”

She let out a gentle chuckle. “No.” Her gloved hands shifted to his thighs, fingertips digging in while they roamed. “Try again.”

What was the point of this maddening game? “You like to help people?”

“Hmm,” she said, her breath teasing Damien’s ear. “I suppose that’s close enough.” Her hands reached out as far as they could along Damien’s legs, almost making it to his knees, before dragging themselves backward painfully slowly and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind them. They ended their journey ever so lightly on Damien’s cock.

He shuddered.

“It’s because there’s nothing more rewarding in the entire world than seeing my patients happy.” Using only her fingertips, she travelled down his length, hitting him with a wave of dizziness. “Aren’t you happy?”

Damien choked on his answer. One would be satisfying to say. The other would be true.

Grace cared for neither. “You will be.”

Like that, the miraculous torture began. Steady and thorough, her fingers explored the breadth of his cock starting with light, almost tickling touches on his shaft, leading into a cursory palming of his balls with one hand while the other dared to brush up against the ridge of his cockhead.

Her clinical yet graceful attentions were punctuated by breaths against Damien’s neck and ear, even and warm but growing hot whenever he writhed or twitched. He heard her smile, cute and elegant, subtle as the sunlight bleeding through the gaps in the blinds.

Her merciless skill was maddening. The touch of her hands he had known before, but the thin layer of silk had transformed it to something else altogether. The friction of fabric amplified every twist, grope, or stroke, never abrasive but utterly soothing. Like her hand was made of cream.

“Are you feeling better?” she whispered into his ear as if trying to hide her words from an eavesdropper.

He whined, fidgeting, trying to push her off his back, but his efforts yielded nothing. One of her hands left his cock, running up his chest to pull him tight against her. He instantly regretted the resistance, wishing to see that hand go back to what it was doing.

The two pricks of Grace’s nipples dug into his back as her breasts rubbed into him. The heat of her body merged with his own and his face began to throb, surely red as an apple.

Even quieter than before she spoke. Damien wouldn’t have been able to hear it had her lips not been close enough to touch his ear. “Let’s not misbehave today, okay? You’ve earned this reward, I’d hate to have to take it away.”

Her sultry voice was so thick he could taste it. It tasted like caramel.

Her rogue hand descended. He almost breathed a sigh of relief before the hand stole it away from him by grasping his balls. The other hand make a circle with its index finger and thumb, then ran it gently over his cockhead, letting it grow and shrink to match his thickness as it moved.

“Aren’t you so lucky to have a doctor like me?”

Grace’s gloved hands plucked his defiant response right out of his throat, replacing it with a low moan. Grace hummed, happy with his reaction, and quickened her ministrations. While still reserved, Damien could now sense a hint of purpose in their movements, like a hunter that had caught its prey and now just needed to fetch it.

Damien knew exactly where this was headed. She would lead him to the edge, then yank him back and leave him wanting. Even as her grip tightened and her silk touch dug in deeper, he tried to shy away, to deny the reality, to bury his hopes in a mound of despair. But no matter how deep he hid them, Grace’s fingers dug them up and cradled them, nurturing them into a brilliant bloom.

Clamping his mouth shut, Damien turned away from the ballet her hands were performing on his cock in a desperate attempt to put it out of his mind. The elbow of Grace’s wing nudged him back. He closed his eyes tight and focused on the darkness. Grace nibbled on his ear and dashed the darkness away. Despite knowing the futility of it, he pulled on his bindings once more. Nothing.

Her hands danced, each with a full grip of his cock, twisting and tumbling about, one directly underneath the other, pumping with poise and vigor and wakening the storm of orgasm. Each silken stroke burned his face hotter, stirring his loins and chipping away his self-control. He was her plaything. His body was completely vulnerable to whatever she wished upon it. Time was hers. Her desires would be realized, whether Damien put up the resistance of a hundred men or succumbed under a feather of pressure.

Faster Grace worked, breath hot against Damien’s neck, her radiant grin growing ever wider. Those perfect hands accomodated every need, encompassing his entirety with a precise grip and even strokes. It was at that moment, teetering on the edge of release and witnessing the depth of her aptitude, Damien gave in.

Grace didn’t stop.

Damien yelled out in shock, his climax hitting him with such ferocity and speed that he almost passed out. Cum spewed from his cock like a fountain, reaching impossibly high with spurt after spurt. It splattered over Grace’s gloves but she didn’t care, instead continuing to pump and coax Damien through it all, faster and faster. Each ejection only seemed to encourage them further. Finally, after shooting out far more than Damien had ever seen himself release, he was empty. Finished.

Grace’s hands were not.

It started subdued, distant echoes to the cacophony of Damien’s orgasm, but as he evened out, the continued workings of her hands bubbled to the forefront of his attention. Leisurely they moved, one cradling his shaft and the other shifting back and forth over his tip, smearing the wealth of his release all over.

“Grace, stop, that’s everything,” he said. His voice was cracking.

“Oh?” The undertones of her caramel voice were thick with deviousness. The hand on his tip cupped his cockhead and twisted, forcing an awkward, guttal noise out of Damien’s mouth. “You begged for this for days and now you’re not interested? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Damien wiggled his hips, but Grace’s own were right behind him, holding him tight, and her hands were hungry, greedy for more. Each hint of weakness from Damien immensered them further into their work, eager to find something else to exploit, another angle to attack him with.


One of Grace’s hands swallowed his balls, clutching them tight enough to send shivers through Damien’s body. The other took his cockhead into a fist and made tiny little strokes, just enough to build friction on his tip and tease the ridge of his head.

Damien grew delirious, the fire from his cock searing across his nerves and boiling his mind. Those extraordinary gloves that had once guided him along the path to bliss now chained him to a firestorm of sensations. The exquisitely smooth grain of silk glided effortlessly over his raw, reddened cock, each motion amplified a thousand upon a thousand times, pleasure heightened beyond comprehension.

“That close already? Go ahead, dear,” said Grace.

Damien hadn’t realized he was thrusting into her hands as much as he could. Grace shifted the hand on his cockhead to pump his full length, quick and deft, focused on one thing only. Even through the haze of overstimulation, Damien could make out the rumbling in his loins that Grace had familiarized him oh so well with over the last couple days. He squinted his eyes shut, focusing on her hands, imploring them to bring him over the edge so this could at last be over.

With one last jerk from the hand on his balls, Damien overflowed. He threw his hips as high into the air as possible, gasping, watching in incredulity as he came again. Grace’s silk hand stroked hard and fast, yearning for more, for everything Damien could give it. Even as rope after rope of cum shot over him and Grace’s glove, it would not be contented. Only when Damien’s thrusts yielded nothing did it slow, starting with a rough, tight grip at his base to push those last few oozings out of his cock.

Damien watched and waited for her to finally cease, for that hand to find rest and relieve itself of Damien’s member, yet it never did. Just like last time, Grace moved cautiously, with purpose, but without end.

“I… I can’t,” panted Damien. “Please, please…”

“Shh, shh, shh,” she whispered. “It’s alright. It’s okay.”

Thankfully, she eased up, moving one hand to lightly stroke his shaft, ignoring his balls and cockhead, while the other ran a pair of fingers in small circles around his tip. While her touch was still fire on his delicate skin, Damien at least didn’t feel like he’d pass out.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked.

A wing curled up and wiped the tears off his cheek and Grace smiled. “This is your reward for being such a good patient. I’m giving you exactly what you wanted.”

Damien wheezed as Grace laid a dangerous kiss on his neck and nuzzled her head against his.

What could he possibly say to escape this? What would please her? Where was her motive?

“What do you want?” he asked.

“For you to cum.”

Her hands picked up again, eating up more of his cock in their grasp, tweaking tiny things like the pressure of each fingertip, the angle of her wrists, the length of her strokes, and the gaps between her fingers. Damien felt everything. Soaked in the cum of two excessive orgasms, her gloves slid along his length freely, squelching at the peak of each pump. Yet it still wasn’t enough. Still Grace demanded more.

The last of Damien’s strength howled against his bindings. Each time Grace ran her hands up his cock, a cold lightning shocked his body and he threw that inferno against Grace and her bindings. But they held. As surely as heavy iron shackles.

The world darkened. Grace brought her wings around them like a giant, feathered cocoon, closing them off from the rest of the world. His breath caught as her mouth drifted close again, sweetening his ears with that divine, teasing voice.

“Shh, just relax. Give in. It’s alright.”

Her hands spun and played along his cock, lively and sure, determined and relentless. With the light of his defiance squelched, all he could do was close his eyes and grit his teeth against the unforgiving waves of pleasure that slammed into him again and again. For a brief moment, he could hear Grace’s heart beating against his back, her excitement like a bell ringing in an empty room. He could see the glimmer in her eyes from watching her little dear succumbing to her will once more. He could touch the wanton desire in her body to push Damien beyond his limits.

But it all washed away in a second. Grace’s gloved hands flew along Damien’s cock in a blur, rigorous but impatient, twisting with full, vicious grips, shouting their demands through Damien’s head with absolute clarity. Damien’s hips buckled and once more Grace threw him into the overwhelming rush of orgasm.

This time, there wasn’t an ounce of control over it. Damien’s entire body tensed and spasmed into Grace’s grip. A pathetic shot of cum surged out and landed on her lovingly jerking hands. She hardly noticed. Pump after pump she searched, fighting for each dribbling, each pulse of cum, no matter how small. Wrought with exhaustion, Damien collapsed limp into her embrace. He stared at those undaunted hands, hoping against hope that this would be the last, that Grace would at long last release him, or at least be too tired and give him a rest. Anything.

For once, his hopes were answered.

Her hands left his cock and she kissed him on the cheek. He sighed, eyes blinking as he looked around like he’d just woken up. Grace hopped off the bed, cheery as if she’d just drank a bottle of sunlight, and waggled her gloves at Damien.

They were soaked through and through with his cum, no longer pure white but a dirty grey, see-through in parts and still dripping in others. Damien didn’t know it was possible for his body to produce that much.

“So, how are you feeling?” Grace chirped.

Damien uttered a groan. He wanted to lie back down.

“Great!” Grace carefully removed her gloves, then washed her hands before putting her normal clothes on and laying Damien back onto the bed.

As she was finishing with his straps, he found the strength to speak again.

“When… when…”

“When what? When am I going to let you go?” Grace bent down and kissed him on the forehead. “Why, when you don’t want to.”

With that, she skipped out the door, pleased as peaches.


33 votes, average: 4.30 out of 533 votes, average: 4.30 out of 533 votes, average: 4.30 out of 533 votes, average: 4.30 out of 533 votes, average: 4.30 out of 5 (33 votes, average: 4.30 out of 5)
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One thought on “Touched by Angels 1: Angel’s Grace”

  1. It’s sexy and the writing quality is amazing, but I kind of hoped an angel-centric story would differentiate itself more from the other monster-girl doctor stories.

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