Kinktober 2025, prompt #1 - Angel/Devil

Content Warnings: BDSM Fantasy, consensual, chastity, Locktober, supernatural, succubus, angel, Kinktober

“Hey Cassiel. You know this is the start of a joke, right?”

“Everything is a joke when you’re involved, Pantea.”

“Come on! ‘An Angel and a Devil walk into a bar.’ It’s a classic setup! We could have some real fun in here!”

“Will our wager not be enough fun for you on its own?”

“I mean… yeah! But it could still be MORE fun, you know?”

Cassiel replied with a noncommittal hum as she swept her gaze over the establishment. This was not a small, out of the way little hole in the wall, but a large sports bar settling in to enjoy a match played by the local favorite team. There were patrons at nearly every table, awash in the bright colors that demonstrated who they cheered for.

By contrast, the angel Cassiel wore a more simple outfit of jeans, a light jacket, and practical knee high boots. No armor at that moment. There was little need for it and she could summon it in an instant if the demon at her side grew belligerent. Her golden-red hair was tied into a practical braid and swung from her back when she walked. Cassiel’s wings were more spectral than physical at the moment, appearing behind her jacket and glowing faintly in the air.

Pantea, Cassiel’s succubus companion who was both a foe and sometimes a friend, wore a great deal of leather. Tight pants, a bustier instead of any kind of respectable shirt, and a pair of high heel ankle boots that made up for some of the otherwise rather large height difference between the two. All in black, making her bright red skin all the more vivid. Her long red tail was coiled around one leg, and her thin horns jutted directly out from her pitch-dark hair.

No one else in the bar could see the strange pair. They kept themselves hidden from mortal eyes.

“I see him. Right over there.” Pantea pointed to quiet little corner of the main bar, where a single mortal man sat nursing his drink. He had an ordinary look to him, with downcast green eyes, lightly tanned white skin, and a face that had not been shaved in several days, and was dressed in the same predominantly blue coloring of the establishment’s other patrons. His hat did was a brighter and more vivid shade of that color than his shirt.

Cassiel nodded. “And we remain agreed on the stakes? If I win, you will not enter the mortal realm for a full year and one day?”

“That’s right! And if I win,” Pantea’s voice lowered into a sultry little purr as she turned her gaze to Cassiel, “I get YOU for a full thirty-one days and nights.”

The angel nodded again, once. This was not the first time the two had made such a wager in some form or another. That had been centuries ago, when they had phrased the stakes as being exile from the mortal realm for a full solar rotation vs a complete cycle of the moon. They had only switched to the mortal methods of keeping track of time by calendar in the last century.

The details often changed from contest to contest, but the basic idea of the wager remained the same.

One of them, almost always Pantea, selected a mortal who faced some kind of dilemma, a choice between two difficult options. The angel and demon would then whisper into his ear in an effort to persuade that mortal to pursue one course of action over the other. Whoever was successful was the victor.

Cassiel usually won. Usually.

She had never admitted out loud that those rare times she found herself in Pantea’s custody were… rather more enjoyable than one might expect.

In the last few decades Pantea had taken to calling it ‘The Shoulder Game,’ in reference to some visual joke mortals had begun making where an angel and devil small enough to rest on someone’s shoulders argued over whether they should take a moral or immoral path.

Pantea claimed they got the idea from the two of them and their infrequent wagers, but Cassiel had her doubts.

The unlikely pair marched through the bar to the subject of their challenge and came to a stop on either side of him. They sat down. Cassiel on the right, Pantea on his left. Even while they remained unseen, nobody would attempt to take the seats they had claimed.

“You can go first,” said Pantea. The succubus was sitting backwards, leaning her back against the bar and crossing her legs. “I picked him out and spent some time setting this up, so…”

Cassiel had once won one of these contests by simply not taking her turn, therefore denying Pantea a chance to take her own. The man had been leaning towards the path Cassiel had meant to persuade him to, so it worked out. That would not work this time, as an extremely annoyed Pantea had taken care never to leave the angel an obvious advantage again.

“Jeremy,” Cassiel spoke. The man’s only reaction was a shuffling motion. He had not heard the angel with his ears, but she reached the inner recesses of his mind with no issue. “Discipline is nearly always the more challenging option, yet it can lead to the greatest rewards. What is the longest amount of time you have ever denied yourself. Three days? A week? Remember what it felt like when you finally let go… and imagine how much greater that feeling will be when you have lasted for an entire month.”

Locktober, the mortals called it. A rather fascinating challenge a small number of them involved in, sometimes self-imposed, other times by agreements with their lover, and still others times enforced on an unwilling target. Cassiel approved of it in theory, as too many mortals indulged themselves too easily, although she remained somewhat put off by the knowledge that they did this for a greater amount of pleasure rather than for the joy of self-discipline. Cassiel herself only ever felt release when she lost a wager to Pantea.

Jeremy himself currently had his own penis locked securely in a high quality metal chastity cage, the key tucked away into his wallet after his initial plans for the month had not worked out as he and his then-lover initially agreed.

“Nah, screw that!” Pantea leaned in, smirking, her voice more boisterous than Cassiel’s gentler whisper. “You agreed to lock your cock for your girlfriend, not because YOU wanted to. And now that she’s your ex-girlfriend… come on, man. Stop being so hard on yourself! Have some fun!”

“You would not have agreed to her suggestion if you were not interested,” Cassiel pointed out. “This was not some spur of the moment decision that she tricked you into, Jeremy. You discussed it with her at length, for months. You agreed because you wanted to try it. Why should her absence change that?”

“She wouldn’t have given you back the key if there was a chance she was going to take you back.” Now Pantea was lower now, and more intense. “Hell, she didn’t really give it back to you. Did she? She threw it at your head! Your relationship is dead as a door-nail, Jeremy. If you keep going around locked up you’re just going to end up thinking about her every time you do it in the future. Is that what you want?”

The man was growing somewhat flustered, squirming in his seat as the words of an angel and demon he couldn’t detect stoked at his unconscious mind.

“No, Jeremy. Overcoming this challenge will not associate it with her in your mind forever, it will help you overcome her! If you do it for your own sake, on your own initiative, for your own pride and your own pleasure, you will remember it as such.”

“Oh, come on! It’s just a little private time! It’s not a big deal! You can just push it a little further down the line, do No-Nut November instead this year, or just wait till a month of your choice so it really is all for yourself. Maybe a New Year’s Resolution?”

“Whatever you decide, Jeremy, you can decide later. For now focus on the game. Is that not why you are here? To see the first round of the playoffs?”

“Ooooor, you could quick zip back home. I mean, your ex isn’t going to show up here. You know that, we know that, and she knows that.”

Jeremy finished his drink at that moment, then asked the bartender to watch his seat while he went to the bathroom. Cassiel and Pantea were left facing each other on their stools.

Pantea was smirking. “I’m winning this time. Probably not today, I admit, but there’s no way he’s going to last the whole month. And when I do, ooooh man. I already have this tight red dress and thigh high boots picked out for you to wear on the first day, a sexy stripper outfit with pleaser heels for the second, a full body gimp suit for day three… I hope you’re ready to have your wings all folded up in leather, babe, because the only things you'll be spreading for me are your legs.”

Cassiel remained still, not looking at her devilish companion or rising to her bait. This month would be a true challenge, but she remained confidant in her victory. So long as she remained steadfast, she could see Jeremy through the entirety of Locktober and then seal Pantea away from any other mortal for an entire year.

The angel’s only concerns were the tiny little embers of curiosity and interest smoldering deep within her as Pantea continued to describe the wardrobe she had selected for her.