An Angel's Justice

By: Danica Winters

Sarah was no angel. For the first time, and hopefully the last, she found herself holding white lace-covered wings, an ill-fitting saint mask, and wearing one crooked halo. She flipped down her mask and pulled the keys from her car’s ignition. It was now or never—and there was no escaping her boss’s attendance-required Halloween party.

She hated Halloween, and this year was no exception, the day just another excuse for her idiotic co-workers to get drunk and fondle each other. Maybe what upset her the most was the fact she didn’t have anyone to fondle her. Regardless, her solo status was only made worse by being at her boss’s house, which was filled with a bunch of drunken ass-grabbers wearing the only attire allowed—their company’s line of Halloween themed lingerie.

She stepped out of her comfortable seat and slammed her car door shut. Her high heels clicked on the walkway as she tugged at the laced edges of the white satin corset that had ridden up her side. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her racing heart as she readjusted her tilted halo.

The thumping noise of the party greeted her as she made her way up the concrete steps that led to her boss’s front door.

A man leaned against the bricks of the arched entryway. “Are you alone, little angel?”

His face and body were the same shade of red as the front door of the house and he had black, cow-like horns that extended above his ears.

“Who’s asking?”

“The Devil.” He laughed wickedly. “Or, as I would prefer—your Devil.”

She slid her arms into the holes of the lop-sided wings and stepped closer to the mysterious black-haired man.

“How ‘bout this, Devil… Let’s stick together and make a pass around the idiot circuit, and then we can see where things take us?” She looped her arm around his and reached up to stroke his muscular chest.

She was acting like a tramp, but wearing the mask made her feel protected by the anonymity the thin plastic offered. She could say what she wanted, to whomever she wanted. The effect was exhilarating and unexpectedly empowering. Usually she was the quiet underling, but tonight she could be the fallen angel. And if he was lucky, she could be his fallen angel.

His eyes brightened.

“I like your plan.” He gave her a quick swat on top of her satin panties. He leaned into her ear. “Great costume by the way.”

He opened the door and she walked into the smoke-scented house.

“Thanks.” She pointed to his form-fitting black leather pants. “It looks like you got out of wearing a G-string tonight.”

He slapped the sleek black leather. “These aren’t much better.”

“I like them.” She stepped back to take a look at his perfectly rounded ass. She sucked in a breath. “They’re sexy.”

The Devil smiled.

A blonde woman she recognized from Accounting walked up to the man at her side. Sarah could smell the pungent aroma of bourbon on the woman’s breath.

“Hey, Mr. Devil…” The woman reached up to touch one of his horns.

He slapped her hand away. “Don’t.”

“What? Don’t you want anybody to polish your horn?” She giggled.

He said nothing as he grabbed Sarah’s arm and pulled her away from the drunken woman and towards the roaring fireplace in the main room. The velvet-draped room looked like the set of a bad porn film, complete with dim lights, which created the feel of welcome hedonism.

At the far side of the room, Sarah recognized their masked sixty-something secretary. A wayward nipple protruded from her net body suit as if it wanted to escape. The woman should have known a mask wouldn’t keep her identity a secret; it didn’t cover her curly grey hair. From what Sarah could see, the woman’s hair was greying everywhere.

“I can see what you mean about the idiot circuit.” The Devil nudged her, gesturing in the direction of a man who leaned over the bar, obviously the worse for drink and wearing only a pair of assless chaps.

The man’s naked ass wiggled as he reached for his almost-empty glass. His fingers bumped against the glass and he slowly circled his fingers around the drink. The man lurched as he stepped back from the bar.

“I think having an adult novelty company throw a lingerie-themed Halloween party was a bad idea,” Sarah whispered, averting her eyes from the man’s bare ass.

The Devil nodded. “I’m sure your fool of a boss has realized that by now.”

“He’s not a fool.”

Her boss, Mike, was the only person in the office she could stand. When she found out he had gone along with the Halloween charade her co-workers had arranged she had been surprised.

She looked around the room, but Mike was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he was trying to humiliate everyone by allowing them to dress like sluts and pimps, without having to be embarrassed himself. She couldn’t help the feeling of foolishness that rose within her.

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