Angel Dust's Demonic Touch

The bouncy energy of the club is electrifying as you walk in. You take a deep breath, savoring the air thick with the smell of sin, something you’d come to appreciate since you became a demon, an inhabitant of the realm of the damned.

You hop through the space, a much smaller demon than the rest, standing at half their height in most cases. You’d been a full-grown human, having made it through adulthood before ending up here, but entering hell meant a new form and you’d been granted the body of a short imp. Luckily that doesn’t bother you much, you’d grown used to being an imp among demonic entities much larger than yourself, even coming to enjoy it.

When you spot him across the room a tingle runs up your spine. You’ve seen him before, that tantalizing sinner demon who always struts about like he owns the place, even the name escaping your lips leaving you a little flustered.

“Angel Dust.” you say, taking a step toward the demon that easily stood double your height with his insane heels.

He sees you too and for a moment you lock eyes with his pink irises mesmerizing you faintly. There’s an invitation to a back room and the promise of gratification tinged in a teasing voice.

You follow him to where a bed and a few other things wait. The most notable thing is the diaper Angel snatches up from a bedside table and shows off to you.

This is… not what you were expecting, and you voice that concern to the demon while backing away toward the door. He sees your hesitation and it only makes him smile wider and do a little long-legged slide up next to you.

“Oh, what’s wrong? Suddenly a little too fluttery in the tummy for some fun?” he asks, working one of his hands over your shoulder to give it a squeeze.

The applied pressure turns into a rub and another hand joins its massaging partner on your other shoulder, then your left leg—then between them.

You let out a gasp, confused for a moment about what to do. “Maybe it won’t be so bad,” you think, “I’ve always heard good things about it.”

Angel could tell his convincing technique was working because within moments he stripped away your trousers—an action that's made much easier by his surplus of arms. You're left with your bare bottom exposed to the world while you shudder beneath his delicate, caressing touch.

“I know a little imp like you must be used to getting pushed around all the time, so you just follow that pattern and let Daddy Dust take care of ya.” he says as he brings the unfolded padding up between your legs.

That diaper wraps around you so tightly, snugly securing your waist within its plush confines. Surprisingly you don’t mind, it’s almost comforting to be so nicely swathed in the padding. It’s so pleasant in fact that you shiver and shake, practically nestling your body into the thick seat of the red and black diaper like it was made for you.

Then the seat of the nappy comes up to meet that urge, guided by Angel’s hand as you’re scooped into two of his arms. He brings you close to his face so you can see the sharp-toothed grin appearing.

“Not so resistant now, are you shnookums?” he asks, giving you a gentle rock in his arms.

If you could still blush you would because whether or not you want to admit it, the sensation of being held in the tall demon’s arms is damned calming. You give a bashful little nod, affirming the demon's assumptions.

He laughs at you, obviously amused by the quick change in attitude. You open your mouth to speak—to try and defend yourself—but the words don’t escape before one of Angel’s other hands is lifting a bottle and stuffing its nipple into it.

Slightly warm liquid coats your tongue, flowing through by the simple act of the bottle being tilted up. It’s just enough to give you a taste, to get you hooked. Without thinking you hollow your cheeks, suckling at the offered teat to consume the mystery liquid within. You’re helpless to fight the whims of Angel Dust and nestle into his arms easily as you’re bottle fed. He lowers you just a bit, bringing your face in line with the pushed out puff of white fur that covers his chest.

Your head falls against it as you drink, letting the softness engulf you. The moment you finish Angel pulls the bottle away, leaving you to whine at having your treat stolen from you despite the fact you drank it all.

Angel quickly silences your protests, pushing one finger to your lips and caressing the bottom of your diaper with his other hand. The touch itself sends a buzz shooting up your body, one that makes you go a little limp. When he feels you’re sufficiently placated he lays you on the bed and brings up the corners of the blanket around you.

Your head is so full of milk-drunk, half lusty fog that you don’t even recognize that you’re being swaddled until it’s done and you’re wrapped up like a breakfast burrito. It makes sense that you struggle a little just to play up the resistant baby vibe you’d already cultivated before. It also makes sense that it’s half-hearted because you’re honestly loving every second of this.

Drifting off wasn’t part of your plan, but soon enough you’re in dreamland and the light touches from before are much more now. Angel’s hands begin testing you, playing with you much more than before.

It becomes less like teasing and more like actual lustful play, so much so that you suck in a deep breath of air, even in your dream.

When you come to, there’s a distinct wet feeling to the front of your padding. You had no idea wet dreams were possible in hell… or that you’d enjoy them so much.