Trick or Treat
By sidewinder (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Archive: only to my personal page, thanks
Fandom: Brimstone (Devil/Zeke)
Warnings: Slash. It's Brimstone. It's not gonna be
all hearts and roses.
Summary: A short Halloween PWP, just one day
Notes: It's been forever since I managed to write
anything, so forgive me if this sucks. I'm just
happy the muse decided to drop by again for a
Disclaimers: The characters aren't mine. This is
written for fun, not for profit.
* * * * * * * *
Ezekiel Stone had come to the decision that,
having seen enough demons, ghouls, and tormented
spirits during his fifteen years in Hell to last
him an eternity, he could quite easily pass on
checking out the Halloween celebrations this year
now that he was back on Earth. Instead, he would
be more than content to simply spend the night in
his room at the run-down hotel he called home,
and see if he could find something other than
cheesy horror films to watch on the TV. He had no
money left for food today, but he did have two
beers left over from the six-pack he'd splurged on a
few nights before. Although the alcohol had no
physical effect on him, he still derived some
sentimental enjoyment from the beverages and
savored them slowly as he flicked through the
channels on the TV.
When he heard the doorbell ring, he guessed it
had to be Maxine. No one else ever came to visit
him--at least, no one who ever bothered using the
front door. Zeke got up from the sofa to see what
she wanted, but instead of finding the petite
young lady standing out in the hallway, Zeke
found a grinning devil all decked out in shiny
black spandex, a flowing red cape, and knee-high
black boots. A rubber pitchfork in one hand, a
set of plastic horns atop his head, and a long
rubber tail peeking out from the bottom of the
cape completed the utterly atrocious outfit.
"Trick or treat, Mr. Stone!"
"Aren't you a little old for this?"
"Are you kidding? Do you really think that I
would want to miss out this one annual night of
sanctioned mischief?" The devil brushed past
Stone and spun around theatrically, showing off
his costume in all of its tacky glory. "So, what
do you think?"
"I think you could have come up with something a
little more...authentic-looking, don't you? An
outfit like that isn't going to scare anyone."
"Always the critic!" the devil huffed. "People
think that this is how the devil looks, therefore
I'm only giving them what they want."
"And is there something in particular that you
want, or is this visit just to get my opinion on
your latest fashion statement?" Zeke asked.
Lucifer reached into the folds of his cape, then
pulled out a small plastic bucket shaped like a
jack-o-lantern and rattled it loudly. "I believe
custom dictates that you owe me a treat. Come on,
come on, cough up the goods."
Zeke went to his kitchen, and looked through the
empty cabinets and pathetically-understocked
fridge for anything that remotely resembled
something edible. "I don't suppose condiments
would count?" he asked, holding up a handful of
relish and catsup packages.
Lucifer scowled at him.
"I didn't think so," Zeke sighed. He grabbed his
jacket off the counter, dug through the pockets,
and found he still had his thirty-six cents left for
the day. "Here." He put the change on the
counter top. "There's a vending machine
downstairs in the lobby; you can get a
role of Lifesavers. Enjoy."
"I'm not here for money, Ezekiel. I want a
treat." Lucifer walked around the counter and
stood behind Zeke. "Something sweet...and tasty,"
he added, his breath falling hot against the back
of Zeke's neck. Stone shuddered, fighting mixed
feelings of revulsion and longing as the devil
closed the space between them, trapping Zeke
between his warm body and the cool countertop.
"Trick...or treat, Ezekiel. Which is it going to
Zeke turned around and met his captor's eyes,
wishing he could wipe that infuriating,
amused expression off his face. But he couldn't,
no more than he could ignore the way his body
responded to Lucifer's nearness, the heat
radiating off his inhuman body and igniting a
spark of undeniable desire inside him. This heat
wasn't the oppressive, scalding flames of Hell,
but the warm fire of carnal passion, of sins of
the flesh that none knew as well as the devil.
"Trick or treat?" Zeke repeated. "With you it's
always a little of both, isn't it?"
"You're learning, my clever detective." Lucifer's
smile widened and he ran one hand over Zeke's
chest, fingernails digging into the thin t-shirt
he wore. "There is no good without evil. No love
without hate. No pleasure without pain."
Zeke closed his eyes and arched back, needing the
support of the counter behind him as the devil's
hand moved lower, down slowly to his groin,
finding his stiffening cock inside the thin
shorts that he wore and quickly bringing him to
full arousal. With one hand on his erection and
his lips teasing the delicate flesh of Zeke's
neck, Lucifer brought him to the edge of orgasm
in minutes, almost over the edge...
Then Lucifer bit down on Zeke's neck, the
sharp pain pulling Zeke back from climax. Zeke
cursed and the devil only laughed. He knew that
Lucifer could, and probably would, torture him
like this for hours--bringing him to the brink of
ecstasy only to deny him of relief, killing the
joy with agony over and over again. Lucifer
wouldn't be satisfied until Zeke was begging for
mercy, desperate to do anything to come. Most of
the time the devil would simply leave, then,
triumphant in Zeke's submission and having had
his own desires satiated.
Ezekiel hated Lucifer for it--but not as much as
he hated himself for still craving Lucifer's
touch, for aching for those few times when the
devil would show him the pleasure he could
deliver as easily as he could inflict pain.
Zeke's hands slid along the thin spandex covering
Lucifer's body, feeling the firm, inhumanly hard
muscles beneath. He reached up to run his hands
through the devil's thick, silky hair as their
lips met for a heated kiss, and Zeke wondered how
much of Lucifer's appearance, this form before him
and under Zeke's hands, was real, and how much was
simply illusion. In Hell, Zeke had never actually
seen the devil--he had simply been a presence,
formless, a voice that had come and whispered to
Zeke's tormented spirit of a way out of his misery.
When he had first seen the devil here on Earth, it
was that voice he'd recognized, and the unmistakable
aura of his presence.
It was only with time that he'd come to recognize
and know this physical form so well, with his hands,
his tongue, his lips. In his dreams, now, Zeke could
feel it, hard and warm, so inhumanly warm that to
hold it too tightly would burn Zeke's hands, to be
pressed against it too long would leave blisters that
could take days to fully heal, even with his demonic
strength. And yet when they were this close, Zeke
couldn't keep his hands away. Pain and pleasure, as
the devil said. To know the heights of one, Zeke had
to endure the depths of the other.
Zeke's hand brushed against a hard nub on the
devil's head, and thinking it was one of the
stupid plastic horns, he tried to knock it away.
He found that he couldn't. His fingertips ran
over it, from the sharp tip that pricked his skin
to the smooth curve where it met the devil's
Zeke broke the kiss and, still fondling the horn,
observed, "This is new."
"You said I should go for something more
authentic." Lucifer's eyes sparkled with
mischief. "I'm only trying to give you what you
wanted." He ran one hand down Zeke's cheek, and
the detective noticed how the devil's normally
well-manicured nails suddenly had grown much more
claw-like, sharp and blacked. Zeke shivered as
one nail ran across his neck, lightly scraping
the skin. Out of the corner of his eye, Zeke
noticed movement along the floor. He yelped as
something wrapped itself around his bare leg,
something that felt like a snake, leathery and
The devil's tail?
Lucifer chucked at Ezekiel's surprise and met
Zeke's lips for another kiss, his tongue savagely
claiming Zeke's mouth while his sharp nails
shredded away the clothes from his servant's
body. Those nails ripped into Zeke's flesh as
well, leaving trails of burning pain up and down
his torso while his cock throbbed, still hungry
for more of Lucifer's touch. Fear mingled with
his intense arousal, as the devil's human guise
slowly dissolved away before Zeke's eyes. The cheap
spandex costume melted off his body to reveal
leathery, rough skin, darkened as if by the
eternally smoke-filled skies of Hell. Rough hands
grabbed at Zeke's arms, and in a whirl of motion
Zeke found he was no longer pressed against the
kitchen counter but into the mattress of his bed.
He looked up into familiar gray eyes, at a face
still recognizable beneath the hard, scarred flesh.
He groaned as the devil licked chapped lips with
a suddenly forked tongue and slid down Zeke's body,
the rough skin scraping against Zeke's more sensitive
flesh with every movement. Lucifer took hold of Zeke's
erection and then began to suck it, searing the
sensitive flesh with the infernal heat of his
Zeke clutched at the bed sheets, writhing, trying
to will his body to climax before the devil would
stop, denying him relief. But as soon as he felt
himself nearing that moment, Lucifer stopped and
roughly flipped Zeke over onto his stomach.
Zeke knew what was coming. He flinched, clenched
his hands into fists, tried to steel himself to
the agony he knew would be next. But still that
first thrust into his body felt as though he was
being torn in two. He couldn't help but cry out
in pain, even knowing how much Lucifer enjoyed
his cries and wishing he could deny the devil
In time, Zeke felt something warm rubbing up
against his belly, slipping between his body and
the bed to find his cock. It wasn't the devil's
hand, but that tail, sliding against him, inhuman
muscles constricting and wrapping around his
erection. The feeling was perversely, amazingly
arousing, the tight, pulsing grip around his cock
once again bringing him close to orgasm even
under the pain of being fucked by the devil.
Zeke had no idea of how long it went on, how many
minutes or perhaps even hours he was abused.
Lucifer was generous this time, actually allowing
Zeke to come, stroking him to orgasm once he had
reached his own climax fucking Zeke. It was a single,
brief moment of indescribable happiness, like a flash
of Heaven's light, welcoming, warm and joyous. But
then it was gone, barely leaving an echo or imprint in
his mind, so insignificant compared to the pain now
radiating throughout his abused body. Zeke lay
trembling in bed sheets damp with sulphurous sweat and
semen, feeling nothing but exhausted, debased, and
disgusted at himself.
After a time Lucifer rose from the bed, his
appearance returned to its "normal" human form.
"As much as I'd love to stay, the night is young
and I don't want to miss out on all the fun to be
"By all means, don't let me keep you," Zeke
muttered, in no state to move from the bed just
yet. He looked at Lucifer, who was back in the
cheap devil costume, plastic horns and all once
more. "I wonder what you really look like," Zeke
remarked aloud, the comment earning him a curious
glance from his companion. "I mean, were the
horns and the tail any more real than you're
appearance now, than you looking like a kid I
beat up in school?"
Lucifer fixed his unblinking gray eyes on Ezekiel
and smiled a little cryptic smile. "What do you
"I think Hell will freeze over before you ever
give me a straight answer--about anything."
The devil's grin widened, confirming to Zeke that
he was correct. "Oh, and this being a holiday,
I'm going to be tremendously generous and give
you the rest of the night off. But I expect you
to be back on the hunt by tomorrow morning,
Zeke grunted. "You know it might help if you told
me where to start looking tomorrow, I--"
He stopped when he realized that the devil was
already gone. Sighing, he rolled over and pulled
the damp blanket about himself, curling up inside
it and waiting for sleep to come, waiting for the
pain to go away. He figured he'd be waiting for a
very long time.