I KNELT BEFORE HIM | a short extreme horror

Content warning; This is a short story symbolizing religious trauma, and it mentions other traumas, including; molestation by a parent (mentioned as a past event), and past domestic violence is heavily implied. The story actively contains; physical and mental abuse of various kinds, violence and gore, mention of suicide, and explicit ‘consensual’ sexual content in the context of Stockholm Syndrome.

The main character is a trans man, so please read any bodily descriptions with that in mind. This story is based on my emotions about my own experiences, so the tone is very dark and disturbing. Read with caution. All characters involved are above the age of 21.

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I knelt before him, and he was beautiful; tall with shoulder-length blonde hair and golden eyes. Sometimes he had more than two, especially when he was angry; below his initial set and another on his forehead to equal five in total. At first, they were the most frightening thing about him, but I learned that it was the least of the horrors he would show me.

His wings were large, all four of them. Their white feathers shed sometimes when he flicked them out just to intimidate me. Once, one fell softly before my tired eyes, and he took it to smooth across my bruised cheek. It was the gentlest touch I’d ever gotten from him.

A pale white hand reached down and grabbed a handful of my long black hair, and I whimpered as I was jerked up to look at the angel. I struggled to keep my eyes open through the white hot pain as he stared into my glassy gray eyes. I knew what was coming, and I’d grown to anticipate it.

“Filthy creature,” a beautiful, angelic male voice said before smacking me across the face. “Will you finally repent?”

I trembled as my breath came short. My body was on fire.

The angel, Supplicium, made a sound of disgust and threw me back. My head cracked against the white marble, and the chains around my wrists and neck rattled, reflecting the way my bones felt after the years of torment I’d suffered.

A bare foot came down to press against my vagina through the rough cotton shroud I wore. My flat chest shaped by surgery scars heaved as my heart hammered.

“Even now your sin leaks from you,” Supplicium said with a  wicked smile. “You truly are a man with no shame. Have you grown to enjoy this?”

I closed my eyes and sighed as the angel’s foot rubbed gently against me. The burn throbbed between my thighs, but I knew it would never come to fruition. He wouldn’t allow it. He’d bring me to the edge and then pull away with a swift, painful reminder of where I would remain.

Knelt before him in a vast, cold white void. Held on the precipice of life and death, pleasure and pain.

“Answer me, terrible thing,” the angel snapped as his foot coaxed me further and further to that blissful conclusion I craved.

“I repent,” I said weakly.

My throat still hurt from all the time I’d spent screaming. I’d stopped long ago, but the damage had been done and my scarred vocal cords strained.

Supplicium forced a laugh and his wings flicked out. They shuddered as they shed, and all of his eyes opened to observe me as I thrust my hips gently against his foot. I often wondered if he got off on it, too.

“No, you do not,” he said. His toes circled around my swollen clit through the rough material, and I arched my back. A hoarse moan escaped me. “You will never truly repent, as you show even now. Your body shudders with desire, you don’t even try to control it.”

“Please,” I begged. The first time I’d done that, I’d been severely punished; he’d broken my legs so I could no longer stand. They’d barely healed over time with repeated abuse, but they remained useless.

There was nothing unexpected now though, so it didn’t matter. I’d grown used to the pain and the frustrating pleasure in between.

Just as that little death bloomed deep within me, the angel cut it off by pressing his foot hard into me. Tears streamed down my cheeks as he leaned down to grab me by the shroud, and he jerked me up. Long fingers grabbed my jaw painfully, and nails as beautiful and hard as glass dug into my skin as my mouth was forced open. A bit of blood seeped between the corners of my lips.

“Your kind sicken me. You never learn; you’re incapable of learning what it means to be acceptable to Heaven. You would have never consorted with demons otherwise. You’re filthy with Hell’s stench.”

A thumb slipped onto my tongue and pressed, and I twirled it around my mouth lecherously, looking into the angel’s five eyes with hunger.

Supplicium’s violent anger revealed itself as his nails clenched my skin and ripped back. I yelped as my jaw burned, and a drop of blood trailed down my neck.

“Tell me how you came to me,” he said. “Any inconsistencies will be beaten out of you.”

A whispered sob escaped me as tears streamed hotly down my cheeks. I opened my mouth to speak, but my strained vocal cords struggled with the lump in my throat. Eventually, I managed.

“My father… he brought me to church. Summer… summer of…”

The angel pulled up on the chain attached to the metal collar around my neck, and I choked as he lifted. I gasped as my hands instinctively grabbed at it, and I trembled as my vision pulsed with my heart. He lifted me off my knees until I was sure I’d suffocate.

“Summer of what?” he spat.

I sucked in burning, desperate breaths as I tried to continue. My hands gripped the metal so tightly they ached. “Su— summer… of...” I gagged and struggled to remain conscious.

Supplicium scoffed and jerked me forward as angelic magic surrounded me, and soon, I was floating before him like a disgusting feral animal he’d pulled from a trap. I coughed violently as air rushed back into my lungs, and I struggled as I grew dizzy.

“You’re not trying hard enough,” the angel said inches from my face. His five eyes blinked in unison. He’d dropped the chain and raised his hand to smack me across the face instead, and then grabbed my cheek and pinched, pulling it. “For every time you fail to recall how you came to me, you will gain another bruise. Another reminder of your failures.”

My cheek throbbed as he let go. Perspiration stuck my hair to my forehead and neck. “If I tell you…” I managed. I swallowed hard as my dry throat fought the will to speak. “...will you let me come?”

Supplicium grew amused and pushed me with an ethereal force, and my back slammed against something wooden. My arms were stretched on either side of me, and my legs were crossed.

“Perhaps if you knew the pain of Christ, you’d change your tone. He suffered for you — for all of you ungrateful heretics.”

For the first time in a while, I screamed hoarsely as a nail drove into my right hand, and then the left. Blood flowed down my arms and traced the sides of my body, soaking my white shroud that had been torn and ripped in so many places it’d become useless.

Supplicium approached me with a barbed crown, and he placed it upon my head, pressing down until the sharpened thorns cut into my flesh. Sweat mixed with crimson as both trailed down the bridge of my nose.

I’d been crucified. Stigmata.

The angel pressed on one of the nails to dig it in farther, and I trembled as excruciating pain shot up my arm. Another hand dragged nails up my bare thigh, and slipping beneath the shroud, it ghosted two fingers beneath my dripping sex.

Oh, yes. Please, yes. Make me come.

“Even now, despite the pain, you seep with sin.” Supplicium pulled his fingers back and smeared the juices over my face. “I can hear your deplorable thoughts. This is how I know you will never be salvageable. You are destined to suffer for eternity, but not in Hell like so many think.” The angel laughed cruelly as he stood back to observe the beautiful work of art he’d created. “No, Hell would be paradise for you. You are born of sin, and you bask in it instead of fighting against it.

“Your body was sullied long before you had a chance at redemption. What was it he said to you?” The angel circled my cross, his wings brushing tantalizingly soft against my skin to tease me as he passed by. “’You’re a selfish bitch. You’re a slut.’”

Everything grew distant as my first romantic relationship came back to me. Supplicium occasionally reminded me of it, but there was so much in his arsenal of torments. So many terrible things from so many terrible people that he never ran out of ways to mindfuck me.

“Or what about your caregiver, hm?” The angel continued to circle me. A slight breeze ghosted across my sticky skin as his wings flicked. “A man of God, was he?”

The trauma wound throbbed, but my emotions had dulled. Instead, everything around me became farther and farther away until nothing felt real. My own body was miles away.

Nails slammed against my chest and tore the shroud open. My flat, masculine chest was fully exposed.

“Answer me, heathen!” the angel growled. It sounded more like a demonic sound than anything heavenly.

“Yes,” I managed.

“He did something terrible. Something unforgivable. Tell me, what was it?”

The pain coursing through me had turned into a dull, numb throb as my brain could no longer register the intensity. I should have passed out a while ago, but the angel wouldn’t allow me that kindness. Dissociation was the only escape I had; that much he could not take from me.

“He touched me,” I mumbled.

“Did you want it?” the angel asked.

“No.” But no hadn’t been enough for my father, no matter how many times I said it.

“It could have been worse,” Supplicium continued as he stood before me. He waved a white pillow into existence. “He stopped before he could defile you completely. Your body had already sinned, and he was drawn to it like a wolf is drawn to the scent of blood.”

The pillow was pressed against my face.

“’Put a pillow over your face, it will help.’ Isn’t that what he told you? And did it help?”

I hoped Supplicium would finally suffocate me to death. It would be a kindness, however, and he wasn’t one to be kind. He would rather pull artifacts of my worst days from my mind and manifest them there to torment me with. What better kind of torture was there than to reenact moments that had stripped my soul from me bit by bit?

The pillow was lifted as it disappeared, and the angel continued.

“Now, tell me how you came to me. That memory should lead you forward.”

I hung from the cross as my eyelids grew heavy. “My father… he brought me to church. Summer… summer of…” The angel prepared to strike me. “The summer of 2005,” I finished quickly.

Supplicium paused, and for the first time since I could remember, he seemed pleased with me. My heart fluttered. He was pleased with me. Oh, yes. Please praise me.

“You desire praise?” the angel teased. “Then finish the story. Tell me.”

I forgot to breathe as I anticipated the pain that usually followed with his touch, but instead, his hand trailed down my front to beneath my rib cage.

“Continue, and so will I.”

The throb started between my legs, and I mustered the strength to continue. “We… went to church. Every Sunday… he made me go. I… didn’t want to… I’d…” I shivered as the angel’s hand trailed an inch lower.

“You’d… what?”

“I’d dedicated… myself to… Satan.”

The angel swiped a nail across my skin to leave a mark before continuing down another inch. “You thought Satan had saved you.”

“Yes…” He had. It was why my punishment was so severe. The angels I’d learned about were a mere fantasy, just as Supplicium had shown me over the course of the years he’d held me prisoner. Satan had welcomed me and I’d found love and acceptance. I’d felt whole, like I finally belonged somewhere. I’d started to heal.

And then…

Nails dug into my stomach. “And then what, my dear heathen?” the angel said impatiently.

I flexed my hands that had gone cold and lost all feeling. I knew if I could see them, they’d be ghostly white and drained of blood. The pain didn’t register anymore. “And… and then…” I tried to swallow, the dryness of my throat sticking as it clicked. How long had it been since I’d had anything to drink? To eat? How long had Supplicium kept me alive?

“And then… I spoke to the priest,” I continued. “He told me… I was going to Hell.”

The angel smiled and trailed his hand another inch. It felt so close to what I needed, but I dared not even think of my desire now. He’d never teased me like that before. Maybe it would finally happen.

“Which you were more than happy to accept,” Supplicium said. “Go on, finish the story, filthy creature.”

The way he’d uttered the insult was so soft, so sweet. Things had changed for sure. My heart hammered with excitement.

“He told me… my father could be saved.” My eyes threatened to drift shut, but they opened again as the angel’s hand slipped down to my belly button. “And I… I wondered if my boyfriend… would be saved too. But I… I didn’t want… to be saved.”

I struggled to speak, but I had to. I’d finished the stories the angel demanded of me in the past so I knew I could finish this one. This was the last one. Maybe that was why he would finally reward me.

I sighed as the hand slipped past my stomach. “I was… ruined. My blood was… black. Toxic. A vile… poison.”

Supplicium’s fingers brushed over my swollen clit.

A soft moan left me, and I continued. “I stopped… going to church. He… he…” I tensed as the angel’s fingers dipped inside. “He hated me.”

“Who?” the angel asked as he moved two fingers inside me, slipping in and out slowly.

“My… my father. He suddenly… hated me.”

Supplicium’s face came close to mine and he whispered in my ear as slick sounds emanated from below. “He threatened to hit you, in the following years. What was it he said? Tearing you down…”

“...to build me… back up…” I moaned hoarsely again as the angel’s thumb circled my clit. Oh, yes. I want to come. I want to be released.

“He called you a liar,” the angel cooed. He curled his fingers and became relentless. “Your mother lashed out at you when you told the truth. She turned your family against you.”

“Please…” I begged with fresh tears pouring down. “Please release me now. Let me... find release.”

Supplicium’s fingers clawed painfully inside me, and his nails dug into hot, swollen flesh. “Finish the story. How did you come to me?”

It was one of the most difficult memories to recall. I’d been more frightened than ever, and there was nothing I could do to take it back. I had no way of knowing it would lead me there — to the cage where I’d be tortured for longer than I could remember.

“I…” The angel’s fingers began a pleasant rhythm again. “I couldn’t… take it anymore. I… swallowed all of… my pills.”

“You were alone,” Supplicium said. “No one knew. No one thought to check on you when you went silent.” He chuckled. “You’d said you’d wanted to kill yourself so many times in the past; no one believed you’d actually follow through with it.”

A shuddering breath left me as the angel teased me below. “I… regretted it. I couldn’t… go back. And you…”

The angel smiled darkly, waiting.

“And you… came to me.” The burn grew below. “You said… you said you would take me… to Heaven.”

“And I did,” Supplicium said. “And here we are.”

I fell silent. There was no more to tell. The horrors that followed were numb in the back of my mind now, as each that followed was worse than the last. This, I hoped, was the culmination.

“Would you like me to fuck you?” the angel asked.

I rocked my hips. “Yes. Please.”

“You want your insides rearranged so badly you don’t care who it is, do you?” Supplicium pulled back and lifted his hand to glance at it. It was dripping.

The sudden mania that caused a feral grin to form on the angel’s face chilled me to the bone. All five eyes opened wide.

“You’ve finished your story. There’s no more to tell. So, it’s finally time for your release.”

I was winded as the angel’s hands grabbed my stomach and pulled, the nails tearing my skin as I tried to scream. My throat bled as I managed one last time, and I hung helpless as my stomach was torn wide open.

“No no, my dear heathen,” the angel cooed. He raised a blood-caked hand to lift my chin. “Don’t you want to be awake for this moment? Your release?”

All I could do was watch as I grew limp. The hand left me and my head sagged, and I realized the blood seeping from my body had turned black.

The toxin… it was finally coming out. I would be rid of the poison coursing through my veins.

A hand slipped into my stomach cavity and caressed my organs, sliding tantalizingly along my intestines. “You will never be saved now, not even in Hell — the Hell you so longed for.”

My eyelids fluttered.

“No, you will wander for eternity in a purgatory of your own making.” The angel slipped a bloody hand down to circle my clit.

Yes. Finally. Almost. Please don’t stop.

Another hand crawled inside me, squirming within my insides. It pushed more black blood out of the cavity.

“Oh, I don’t intend to now,” the angel said happily. “Your penance has been served for the time being. I’ve thoroughly broken you.”

The little death crept up on me, higher and higher. Soon, I would be free.

A wing caressed my aching, bruised face as the beautiful slaughter continued, and soon, my entire body tensed. It was time.

“Farewell, my dear heathen,” Supplicium growled as his fingers flicked below.

A deep sigh from within my aching body slowly released, and my nerve endings came alight as euphoria spread throughout my limbs. My vision grew blurry as the white void darkened at the edges, and my last sight before I passed out was of those five haunting eyes staring at me like a rabid animal mid-attack.

I was free.

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I awoke lying on the ground. It was too bright, and my body was heavy and aching. Tears seeped silently down my face as I relished the freedom from pain — the freedom from Supplicium. Wherever I ended up didn’t matter, nothing could compare to the years the angel kept me prisoner.

“Awaken now, heathen.”

My eyes widened and fear wracked my body.

No.

“I said, awaken!”

NO!

Chains clinked loudly as I was jerked up, and whiplash caused my neck to crack. I came face to face with five golden eyes and a wicked smile.

“You thought I’d show Satanic filth like you kindness?” Supplicium laughed. “Oh, I freed you... for a short time. You rested, and you healed at my behest. One might even say you truly died, but I brought you back.”

“No…” I sobbed as the angel took delight in my suffering.

I was no longer battered and torn open, and my throat was no longer scarred. I cried openly and loudly, begging a creature for mercy that I was taught should give it in abundance.

“Yes, cry now, heathen.” The angel dropped me onto the white marble floor. “When you can speak, tell me from the beginning…”

Supplicium flicked his wings.

“…what is your first painful memory?”

©2025 Shane Blackheart