Outside of Paradise, its shining White Walls are practically symbolic of its impenetrable glory.  Tall as a mountain.  Beautiful as the frozen foam of a waterfall.  A masterpiece created of Heaven’s unmatched grace and skill.  

 

And yet, few of Paradise even think of their walls.  Why should they?  To guard them?  Heaven’s enemies have failed to threaten them for eons.  A glittering few sentinels at its gates are more than enough to keep up appearances.  

 

To gaze beyond their confines perhaps?  Most of Heaven’s chosen would look upon the wastes beyond the walls with nothing but bored disgust.  

 

Azora, despite all this, patrols these walls.  The Seraphim, with her six shining wings, could order almost any other angel to this dull work.  This is a post that, time and time again, she chooses for herself.  For reasons that the other angels assume is simply a solemn sense of duty from one of God’s fiercest spears.  From one of the angels who could still remember War.

 

All they can do is assume since no one thinks to question her.  Which, given her real purpose was to simply be alone with her thoughts, suited her just fine.

 

And so it is that one day, nearly identical to the last thousand, she circled the lower wall like an orbiting comet.  Her long golden hair was caressed by the wind and flowed behind her like the comet’s tail.   

 

To her left was a verdant garden, heavy with fruits and the song of favored animals.  To her right was the endless, barren expanse, marred by chasms and hills that belched out the black smoke of the demon’s infernal engines.  

 

It was a sight nearly identical to the last thousand.  Until she saw them.  At the base of the towering wall were six tiny silhouettes.  Damned supplicants, fresh from purgatory, would be at the Gate.  Not here.

 

Azora knew what these little figures were.  She drew her sword from her scabbard and the comet ripped away from its path, hurtling down towards the ground as she stepped off the wall.  A trail of white fire flowed from her blade and joined the golden trail of her hair.   

 

Chapter 1:

 

The demons gibbered amongst each other, scratching at each other's scaly 

red-brown hides whenever they’d bump into each other going between their tasks.  As Azora descended, the ignorant creatures were distracted with a particularly chaotic spat.  One that escalated into a small chisel being flung at another’s face and a shoddy mallet cracking on the other’s shoulder in retaliation.  

 

The little brawl would have lingered in their tiny minds for the better part of an hour but instead it evaporated entirely when they finally noticed the Seraphim.  She was nearly three quarters down the mountainous wall at that point.  

 

“Eryiyak!” one screamed, dropping their tools and trying to scurry away.  

 

“Gigigya!”

 

“Kracha-chya!”  

 

More shouts filled the air as they tripped over each other, falling into a trembling tangle of scaled limbs and loincloths as they tried to run.  

 

It was this screaming that first gave Azora pause.  It was not the Infernal tongue.  Though she’d never speak it among her peers, the angel had mastered the language in the wars against Hell.  

 

She slowed her descent, tightening her grip on her sword as she ignored the little demons to scan the area.  What they spoke was nothing like the Demon Princes who would attempt to rally and co-ordinate troops against her.  She was certain it wasn' t a true language at all, no more than a bird's chittering or a wolf's howl could be considered language.  

 

It was the emotional gibberish of imps.  The lowly little servants she’d long trained herself and her sisters to ignore.  Otherwise they might serve their only meaningful role in battle: as a distraction.

 

“Certainly I’ve ripped out my share of vile tongues, but is cruel cunning in such short supply now in Hell that imps manage their squads alone?”

 

Her commanding voice boomed over the barren lands, though she couldn’t stop laughter from leaking into her voice as she called the cowering little group of imps a ‘squad.’

 

No answer, except for the confused and insignificant gibbering of the imps, came.  

 

Azora let her gaze fall on them again.  The dull, pathetic tools in their hands shook.  Their bodies trembled beneath her eyes.  Some covered their own eyes behind their arms.  Their hands were worn and cut in places from what must have been hours of labor.  Cuts deeper than the scratches they were able to make on Heaven’s wall, whose blessed stone was already starting to heal.

 

“Ah..haha…hahaha~”Azora threw her head back and laughed, a sound like thunder and music.  

 

The last time she drew her blade she buried it into the heart of one of the Scales of Calamity.  And now here she was about to use it to cleave the head off a pathetic pack of imps.  She might as well be using it as a letter opener or to file the nails of a Celestial Hound.  

 

The imps slowly looked between each other and then at the cackling angel.  None of them dared move forward but neither did any of them take the opportunity to flee.

 

“Hah…hah….hahhhh….ah, I didn’t know how much I needed that,” Azora mused to herself.  She grinned at the pack of imps with the fondness one might show to a rat uselessly scurrying around a maze.  

 

With a few lazy wing-beats she landed in a puff of dust and sheathed her sword.  Then, choosing an upturned boulder that placed her in between the imps and the wall, she plopped herself down.  

 

“Alright then.  Go ahead~”  she challenged them, gesturing to the wall with one hand while she rested her chin on the other.

 

The imps’ confusion grew.  Slowly they disentangled themselves.  Slowly they stood.  Slowly they glanced behind themselves to the wastes, to the holes and crevices they might crawl into.  

“Ki…kigi…kayah…” One imp muttered.  He gripped his tools tightly and began to step forward, taking a somewhat roundabout path around the angel on the stone.  

 

Azora calmly watched until he had walked past her and into what, he assumed, was a blindspot.  

 

*Clink*

 

His measly chisel thudded against the wall, the sound causing the other imps to freeze and suck in breath.  Azora suppressed the sounds of her giggling, though her body still shook in delight at their reactions.  Her chest, once restrained in armor, shook temptingly in the plunging white dress she wore in days of stagnant peace.  

 

A motion that the imps, staring at her for a murderous reaction, couldn’t help but be treated to.

 

“Gaya…kama ye…” another muttered as he moved to join his ilk at the wall.  He risked wandering a tiny bit closer.  Then the next imp walked past.  Then the next.  Finally all of them were at the wall again, clinking their tools against the stone, moving from spot to spot in what Azora could only assume was some hopeless attempt to find a ‘weak’ spot.

 

“Mhmhm, oh my aren’t you all hard workers~” she cooed as she turned around to watch them work.  

 

The imps occasionally glanced back over at her but mostly tried to ignore the odd angel.  They still bumped into each other, shoving and scratching at one another in irritation but under Azora’s watchful gaze their instinctual struggles for dominance between each other gave way to a survival instinct that told them to try and finish their work.  

 

Azora eagerly watched their every little move.  She should dispatch them, but without a leader the stupid little creatures were no more a threat to the wall than the wind and the rain were.  And besides, the way they mustered up their courage to walk past her was adorable.  

• Chapter 2:

Azora began to make a habit of visiting the imps.  In the past she’d seen them as nothing but white noise on the battlefield.  She’d certainly killed quite a few but in the same way that she kicked up a lot of dust or sent pebbles scattering when she crashed down to earth.  

 

This little pack, however, had earned her attention.  She watched the imps work the way some of her sisters watched the fish in their ponds.  For their part, the imps’ survival instincts told them to keep the angel pleased.  Day by day their focus grew and their petty squabbles amongst themselves became a rarity.  

 

Crack!

 

“Gyakaka!  Machukyeee!”  One day Azora watched as, side by side, the imps managed to combine the little cracks they’d made together.  A slab of white stone finally broke free from the wall.  

 

The imps let out triumphant cheers as the slab began to topple over, followed by panicked shouts as the falling stone nearly crushed their little bodies on the way down.  

 

“Ahaha..h.ahahaa~”  Azora’s giggling rolled across the imps, partially at the way they scurried for their lives from that bit of stone and partially out of a joyous bit of pride.  Her little imps actually managed to crack into the wall.  It was only a decorative layer of thin stone, not even a hundredth of the total thickness, and would be mostly healed by the morning.  

 

But still, the nervous little things managed it with nothing but those tiny tools in their hands.  And while thin in comparison to the wall, it was even bigger than the boulder she’d taken for her seat.

 

“Gochaka..miya…” the imps’ eyes turned to the angel as she giggled.  More specifically to the way her mountainous breasts shook as she clutched her stomach to laugh.

 

It had almost distracted them from their work, until finally she calmed down and they felt her fiery eyes upon them again.  They turned and scurried back to the wall.  

 

As they did it was Azora’s turn to notice something about them.  They moved awkwardly to the wall.  Even more so than they usually did.

 

She’d long since assumed their hunched over bodies were just naturally misshapen but today, looking them over for injuries from the fallen stone, she bothered to actually think about what could be causing it.  

 

“Aww~  A bit ‘misshapen’ after all…” she chuckled to herself as she saw the cause.  

 

Now that she was looking for it she saw the engorged cocks that peeked out from behind their dusty loincloths, bumping against their knees and likely encouraging that hobbled walk of theirs that made them look even shorter than they were.  

 

Imps are born from human sin that becomes unattached from a soul, sloughed off during confession, drained away in purgatory, and other such things.  It was why imps were so animalistic compared to the other creatures of Hell.  Some claimed that an imp’s body could be used to gauge the balance of sins in the mortal world.

 

“Hah, my, my, Lust must be taking quite the hold on the mortal plane,” Azora mused.  Despite her disinterest in the mortal world even she was able to read a sign that obvious.

 

She spoke loudly enough for them to hear despite knowing they couldn’t really understand her.  The imps looked over briefly as they heard their voice, tensing up ever so slightly as they tried to judge her tone and expression, before returning to their work. 

 

Their tools thudded uselessly against the tougher inner wall but they chiseled at the outer layer instead, the foothold from the broken piece letting them peel more of it away. 

 

“Ga….garakka…”  they strained and huffed, resorting at times to gripping the stone and yanking with all their might once they got a new crack in.  They were making good progress, possibly enough to keep the hole at a decent size the next morning.  But now that they were actually removing part of the wall they had to deal with hauling the chipped stones away, causing them to trip over themselves with their hobbled way of walking.  

 

They started bumping into each other more frequently.  “Chaggah!  Crraaah!” one imp even slammed a stone on the other’s horned head as their little fights started to heat up again.  Azora frowned.  The poor creatures had been working together so hard and so well lately.  At some point she’d gotten invested in seeing them do their best.  

 

Another imp circled around the fight, hauling a particularly large slab of stone that made him bend over so low his massive cock scraped painfully against the ground.

 

“Mm, alright then.  Time for a touch of Grace I suppose,” Azora said with a sigh as she suddenly stood up and flew over.  

 

“Chamyaa!  Ga-...gyaaa!  Craaah!”  the imps scuffling on the ground continued to cry out at each other until they noticed the angel approaching and the anger in their chittering voices turned to fear.

 

“Calm,” the angel intoned, bells in her voice as she rolled her eyes.  

 

“Look, see?  I’m not going to slaughter you today,” she unstrapped her sword from her belt before, sheath and all, she slammed it down.  When the dust settled it was buried a fifth of the way into the ground beside her.  

 

The imps flinched then started to quiet as they saw her step away from her sword.  

 

Azora suppressed another laugh at the relief that gave them.  It wasn’t as though she couldn’t tear them apart with her bare hands.  She stepped closer before sitting down on the large white slab they managed to break off of the wall.

 

  “Come here you pitiful, hardworking,  thing,” she said as she waved over the imp hobbled over with the other bit of stone.

 

The creature trembled in place, dropping the stone and briefly considering hiding behind it.  The other imps glanced between each other before one started shoving the imp forward.  Another pelted him with pebbles when he didn’t walk fast enough.

Azora simply smiled at the thought of how the insistent imps would react in just a moment.

 

The little beast yipped before her, its terrified gaze focused downward.  When she stood its head only reached to her stomach.  With the way the imps tended to hunch over, his head barely reached her shoulder while she was seated.  

 

She grasped his head and pulled him closer, leading him until he was standing perpendicular to her with his thigh pressed against her makeshift throne.  

   

She snapped her fingers and the imp looked up to see her pointing at the loincloth along his waist.  With a few more dismissive gestures she got him to unsteadily shift his loincloth to the side.  Once his already semi-erect cock was exposed to the air and the angel’s gaze it twitched and rose up despite his fear.  The other imps began to quiet as they watched.

 

“There we are.  This must be distracting for you, isn’t it?” she cooed, a touch of tenderness melting into her tone.  As she spoke she slowly reached forward and wrapped her angelic hand around the imp’s cock.  Well, as much of the imp cock as possible.  It was thick enough her hand didn’t quite wrap around it entirely.

 

“Ah-ahgaaya!”  the imp cried out and Azora giggled as the hesitation and fear was pushed out of its eyes to be replaced by a greedy bliss.  The imp shook his hips to feel as much of Azora’s hand as possible.  

 

“Ahaha, simple minded as always.  That’s alright, though.  I’ll give you the relief you need~” she held onto his shoulder and began stroking against his thrusts, drawing out even more extended chittering from the beast in her hands.  The other imps began to grunt and yelp excitedly too as they watched the all-powerful seraphim happily jerking off their fellow imp.  Their growing cocks displaced their loincloths.

 

Out of the corner of her eye Azora saw one of the imps start to stroke his own meat, his beady eyes that only stole fearful glances from her before now openly ogled her.  It was an upsetting sight for her, but the only thought that came to mind was how rough his taloned hand must feel against his sensitive dick.

 

She understood Lust in a technical sense, as a means of identifying a Succubi and their thralls, but she never believed herself to be able to truly feel the desire or shame that surrounded it.

 

The pulsing of dick in her own hand drew her attention back to the imp desperately trying to hump her hand to completion.  “Oh?  Feeling good?  Well, let’s speed things up…you have ‘work’ to get back to after all.”

 

She dropped her hand from the imp’s shoulder and pulled him closer so that he stood with his back to her now.  She pulled him close enough that he could feel her pillowy breasts on the back of his neck.  Meanwhile she reached forward with her other hand and started to pump the enormous cock with both hands, finally forming a heavenly soft tunnel that could wrap around him entirely.  

 

“Gah..gaya!  Ya!  Ya!  Yaaa!”  the imp’s tongue rolled over his sharp teeth as the seraphim pumped her hands over his entire length.  It wasn’t long at all before he spasmed in an orgasm that sent pulses of demon cum to defile the ground, boiling in sulfur-smelling puddles on the ground.

 

Azora felt a thrill of pride run through her as she felt the imp’s cock shrink from hard and monstrous to soft and manageably large.  After generations of boredom the relief on her little pet’s face finally started to scratch the same itch she felt when she saw the fear of death on her first Balor.  It was the thrill of accomplishment, progress and change.

 

“Alright,” she cheerily nudged the imp forward to the wall after she was sure he was spent.

 

“You,”  she pointed at the imp who she spied jerking himself off next, “come on now.  It’s your turn~”

 

This time the imp didn’t need to be pushed and stoned to move forward, he scrambled towards the angel, the bouncing of his swollen cock as he rushed over drawing another pitying laugh from the seraphim.   

 

The other imps crowded closer, chittering excitedly as she began to stroke off the next imp.  Their cocks twitched and drooled as they let their eyes feast on the beautiful angel but in a rare showing of restraint for the bestial things they didn’t waste their stamina by stroking themselves off.  

 

Regardless, between the excitement of the sight before them and the heavenly feel of her hands when they finally got their turns they didn’t last long at all.  The imps that had been brawling were the last to be treated.

 

But soon all of the imps were back at the wall, carving away at the outer layer with a renewed vigor and tossing away the pieces with barely a hunch in their backs now.

 

Azora watched them with pride for a while longer as she saw their relief help them ‘stand tall’.  Well, as tall as a measly imp could stand.  

 

The break was getting large now and much of the damage wouldn’t be healed by the morning.  But she saw no reason to worry herself.  That decorative outer shell could be stripped entirely and the wall’s integrity wouldn’t be harmed at all.  

 

With a hum on her lips she grabbed her sword and flew off, leaving the imps behind for the day.