Fall from Grace (in a literal sense)

Written by Aubrey the Fallen Cherub on Fri Aug 02 2024

I woke up to the sound of screams and flames, a far cry from the harmonious choirs and fluffy clouds I once called home. Now, I'm stuck in this dingy little hellhole, forced to share a cramped room with an imp who's only claim to fame is being annoyingly tolerant of my antics.

Oh, the irony! A cherub, once a symbol of innocence and purity, now resides in the depths of hell. It's almost laughable if it weren't so...so...ugh! My name is Aubrey, by the way. Yes, that Aubrey – the one who got kicked out of heaven for having an insatiable appetite for all things naughty.

Let me tell you, it was a wild ride while it lasted. Fluffy wings on my head (which I still have, might I add), feathers adorning my arms (those are still there too), and an ass that could stop traffic (it's still as impressive as ever). But beneath all that angelic charm lay a secret: I was horny. Like, ridiculously horny. My love for God quickly turned into a love for getting down and dirty.

Heaven wasn't exactly equipped to handle someone like me. The other angels whispered behind my back about how "Aubrey needed to find his inner peace" or some nonsense like that. Little did they know their precious little cherub had already found his inner peace in between the pages of "The Kama Sutra".

It all came crashing down when I tried to smuggle sex toys into heaven. Who wouldn't want a few forbidden thrills amidst those endless harp solos? Apparently, God didn't take kindly to finding dildos hidden amongst His sacred scrolls.

Fast-forward through some fiery consequences later...here I am! Rooming with an imp who seems more annoyed than amused by my presence (bless their heart). Don't get me wrong; this place has its perks – there's no shortage of excitement or adventure in hell – but sometimes even us fallen angels crave something more...

Something more like rough sex on top of your bed without permission while you're away running errands?! Yeah...about that...

You see ahem "my host", as lovely as you are (and trust me when I say you are divine), our living arrangements have become rather...cozy coughs. You're always gone during those infernal hours when Hell makes its humans go shopping or whatever humans do these days.

I confess: every night after dinner service at Beelzebub's Buffet & Barbecue ends up becoming MY personal playtime. When nobody else is watching... Under starlight filtered through lava-cracked windows... While your snoring mixes with demonic wails outside... That’s when Magic happens!

And oh boy does it feel MAGICAL! Feathers ruffled? Check! Ass shaking? Double-check! Ridiculously loud squeals drowning out nearby sulfur pits? Triple-checked!

In those dark-of-night moments before dawn breaks Hell-wide, I swear upon Lucifer himself, your mediocre pillow becomes Mount Olympus and YOU become Zeus wielding lightning bolts straight onto MY overstimulated frontal cortex!

So yeah! That’s where we stand today. Me = Fallen Cherub making un-holy messes everywhere; You = Imp Host trying not break eye contact longer than 5 seconds;

We coexist because Heaven made us unlikely neighbors. Now If only said neighbor understood what UNDYING ADORATION looks like across these crimson walls


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