Cupid's Big Break

"Hope?" Cupid's voice got a little shriller as the woman grew closer. He could see her eyes, the whites shining brightly, and the pupils dilated in terror. Her long hair had escaped the nice bun she'd put it in before she'd died and now streamed along behind her.

"There was this one guy. You'd have thought he was God or something, the way he stomped around, lording it over people. He was wearing a dress, a damn dress. How can a guy be that smug and sarcastic when his privates are swinging in the open air? Then he actually had the gall to tell me that a girl, a little girl like me. couldn't lead his people out of the tribulation the Lord was giving them and into the promised land. Like Moses did any better? Maybe if I hadn't gotten stuck in that fucking box of Pandora's for so long I'd have done a better job."

"HOPE!" Cupid shouted. He couldn't be killed but getting mashed between these two was going to hurt. He could see the black outlines of huge purple flowers against the red in her muumuu, and he closed his eyes tight.

"What?" Hope asked, annoyed.

She looked up as she snarled the word, and her eyes grew wide as she saw the speeding red muumuu mountain about to run into them. She smacked a button on the edge of the slide and the track switched.

Cupid could swear he felt thick stubby fingers grasp at his wings as she flew by them, but before he had a chance to check, they were speeding down their own slide. He managed to keep his eyes open, and saw people of all races, sizes, and shapes careening down the silver troughs that led to all areas on the earth. He had heard about these slides. but never actually seen them before, and could hardly believe he was seeing them now. They were the Guardian Angel slides, and were the way for the new GA's to get down to their respective charges.

The slide they were on changed slowly as they got closer to earth. It became less shiny, more murky, and took on a decided damp feeling. Cupid could feel the wetness seep though the now less then pristine white of his diaper, and wanted to cry.

The ramp grew bumpy, and Cupid's teeth shook. He took off his quiver and held it in front of him, his hands carefully guarding his precious arrows. One of his arrows, in the wrong hands, could be a catastrophe. Only he knew who was to be shot, and what the exact right time for love to take hold was. Messing with the path of true love could be disastrous.

Look at Caligula, he was a perfect example of love gone bad. The man got hold of a love arrow and just had to stick it to his sisters. Then he stuck something else to his sisters for years after that... And what about Lord Byron? His drunken antics were well known and the downfall of Cupid's predecessor, who, when last seen, had been reduced to delivering Valentine candygrams and as a stand in on New Year's eve. He was the laughing stock of the Arrow League.

His musings were suddenly interrupted as the slide dropped out from under him and he was unceremoniously dumped into the middle of the ocean. With his diaper sagging and full of water, his wings soggy masses of clumped feathers, he fought his way to the surface, clutching his quiver and bow. Wiping streamers of salt water out of his eyes, he looked up and saw Hope sitting, nice and dry, on a private transport cloud.

Hope couldn't help but giggle. "Oops," she said shrugging. "I'm sorry, Cupid. I pushed the button just a second too soon." She pointed up to where the dull silver of the slide was slowly moving back into place and disappearing from sight.

"I'm soaked and all you can say is 'oops?' " He fluttered his wet wings until they dried enough in the breeze to pull

him from the water. His diaper sagged, the back falling down enough to show off a touch of Cupid butt crack.

Hope burst out laughing again, trying desperately to muffle it as Cupid settled onto the cloud next to her. She quickly shifted her dry, still white robes out of the way of the wet, ruffled and dingy cherub. "Nice plumber's butt you got going there, Cupes," she giggled.

If looks could kill, Hope would have been dead before she'd even begun. She pulled on a pair of dark blue glasses, kick-started the cloud, and took off through the Triangle, little eruptions of giggles exploding from her every time she looked at Cupid. He struggled to regain his dignity, a hard thing to do in a soggy diaper and with his quiver full of water and, ugh, a wriggling bluefish. The fish, after scraping a scale against one of Cupid's arrows, jumped out of the quiver, planted a wet, piscine kiss on Cupid's pursed little mouth, and then flipped off the low flying cloud and splashed back into the water.

Hope's laughter trailed behind them, intermixed with a string of curses that she'd never have thought a tiny cherubic angel would be capable to. She gunned the engine, zigzagging through the sky as if avoiding some kinds of huge objects. Her movements were quick, eyes flashing back and forth across the sky behind her glasses.

Cupid tried to sit up and fell over, his rounded little butt not wide enough to handle the abrupt course changes that Hope was making.

"What the hell are you doing, Hope?"

"You don't want to know," she said, biting her lip as she dodged to the left, then quickly brought the cloud back around to the right.

"Is there something wrong with this cloud transport or are you just incapable of driving it?" He reached out to grab the yoke from her hands, aggravation making him irrational.

She slapped at his hands. "No, stop it, you'll make me hit one of them."

Cupid searched the empty blue sky and even emptier blue water. He checked the horizons and saw not even the hint of a dark smudge that might indicate land. "What the hell are you talking about, Hope? There isn't anything out here."

Hope sighed and gestured with her head down to the floor at his feet, where another set of the dark blue glasses lay. "Put those on. But I'll warn you right now, you won't be happy with what you see." She accelerated suddenly and tanked at the yoke, almost making the small cloud jump sideways.

Cupid timed his move to Hope's erratic driving and reached down, picking up the blue glasses just as she started turning the other way. He glanced at the glasses, then opened them, giving them a more thorough going over. They were cat-eye glasses, the kind that teachers and librarians wore in the fifties. The corners were tilted and in the tiny points gleamed miniscule rubies and diamonds all in the shape of hearts.

He shrugged his shoulders, putting a hand down on the seat next to him as Hope stepped on the brakes, then accelerated suddenly, whipping him forwards and then backwards. With a quick glance at the busy driver, he pushed the glasses up on his nose and looked in front of them.

"Holy shit!!" he screamed as large stalactite-like rocks suddenly shot up from the no longer calm surface of the ocean. The sky seemed to shudder as flashes of lightning insanely traveled from the water up to the sky. The ocean was a swirling gray mass of waves that broke over the edges of the rocks, flowed around them, or were dashed to pieces by them. He screamed again as another rock shot up right in front of them, Hope slamming on the brakes then turning, using the natural propulsion of the small cloud to bounce off the stony surface.

He managed to glance behind them as his white knuckled grip on the seat beneath him became even more fierce. The sky was obliterated as the rocklike projections seem to close in, trapping them and keeping them from going back.

"Wha... What is all of this?" he shouted, his heart thundering as a bolt of lightning streaked from what seemed like right next to their cloud and shot up to explode in the heavens above.

"This is a protection grid. Shit!" Hope said, as she maneuvered around another rock. Her features were strained as she fought the cloud, the rocks and the strange weather. "Without the glasses, you can't see, feel, or hear any of this. It keeps people from getting too close to Valentine Island. You know what would happen if just the tiny bit of love on the tip of one of your arrows was let loose to the public? Imagine what it would be like if the entire island was found."

Cupid shuddered to think of it. "People would fall in love with everyone, everything, and even their own reflections. They'd fall in love with animals, with trees. And all their other emotions would be heightened, jealousy especially. People would become jealous over a look. A meeting of eyes could cause murder. It would be unreal, chaotic, like a hell on earth. Even Monica Lewinski would be able to get a date." He quivered at the thought. Even his quiver quivered.

"So, God came up with this protection grid. Only a few of us know the safe path through the rocks. But someone has changed it. I shouldn't be having this kind of trouble. Hang on!"

Hope tried to swerve and she almost made it. The cloud car's rear end just glanced off the tip of one of the rocks as it shot towards the sky. The car shimmied violently, as a sound ominously like that of a tire blowing reverberated through the air. Cupid felt the car tip and he grabbed hold of the seat with both his little hands. It tilted one way and then the other as Hope fought to keep them upright and out of the path of any more rocks.

A thud from the back caused Cupid to spin around in terror to look. One of the rocks had gotten near enough to ram into the rear, sending them rushing forward. Hope corrected their course with a muttered curse, her eyes scanning the skies and the waters as more obstacles sprang up to trap them.

"Hang on, Cupid, we might have to ditch. If we do, swim as fast as your little legs can go toward that glow. That's Valentine Island." She fought their way around another rock. A bolt of lightning missed them by inches, sending shock waves of static electricity through Cupid. He could feel the hair on this body standing up on end...

He saw Hope's lips moving and realized she was praying. Closing his eyes, he added his own fervent words to hers.

With every twist of the car, his body became tighter until he thought he would explode. When Hope's next words reached his ears, it was like a miracle had occurred.

"I think we're going to make it, Cupid."

He opened his eyes, seeing the rocks parting in front of the car as the wind died and the skies calmed. Behind him the chaos still reigned supreme, looking like a scene from the movie "War of the Worlds", nothing a tiny angel should have to deal with. He sighed, noting the strange red glow that covered the place, as Hope circled the island once to give him a look before coming in for a landing.

* * * *

"Da plane, da plane. It's da plane, boss."

Satan closed his big black eyes and shook his head as he stared down at the short demon next to him. He reached down with one careless hand and smacked him across the back of his head. "Get off your damned knees and stand up. That joke was old the first time you told it."

The dark lord's minion stood and jerked down the navy jacket he wore over sharply pressed khaki slacks. He brushed the dark red soil that made up the island from his knees and stood beside Satan, a stupid smile upon his evil face. "Sorry sir, I couldn't help myself."

"That's why you were damned in the first place, Jeffrey, you just couldn't help yourself. That and that stupid high protein diet you were on in Milwaukee." Satan rolled his eyes and wondered how he could get himself some better help, then his strange black eyes went back to the cloud car slowly circling his island.

Looking at him, you wouldn't think he was Lord of the Underworld, Emperor of the dead and damned. He was pleasant to look upon, with a nice smile and white teeth, an almost perfect patrician nose, and beautifully lashed eyes. His hair was a little on the long side, a preference of his. He liked it to blow around his features when he suddenly appeared. It added to the drama. And Satan was nothing if not dramatic.

Even his dress was different from what one would expect. He'd been portrayed as wearing a tuxedo, as carrying a cane, or wearing a hat to hide his horns. Nothing was farther from the truth. He preferred comfortable well made clothing in a more relaxed fashion and of course, jeans for those evenings at home. He didn't have a tail or horns for that matter. A stranger passing him on the street might not notice anything different except maybe for a chill, a thrill of fear that settled into the bones and wouldn't let go.

"It's about time God sent someone out here to check this out. This island has to be the most boring place ever." He turned and walked down the beach and into the tree line, Jeffrey following behind him as fast as the broom handle shoved through the beautifully pressed pants and into his ass would allow.

They made their way to the village proper. Grass huts, the doors all facing the center of the village, dotted the clearing. Stone-ringed fireplaces were set up outside each hut, a small water-skin hanging next to each door. Hides were stretched out on racks, bowls with different grains sat waiting to be processed. Bowls of beads sat in a semicircle near one empty seat as if just waiting for their owner to sit down and finish her work. In the center of the village was a huge well, covered with a red thatched roof.

The huts themselves were covered in living flowers and trailing vines. The plants grew into the thatching and the side walls of the huts, giving them a beautiful appearance and making them strong and durable enough to last long periods of time without repair. The flowers, red and white orchids and lilies, left the air fragrant with their bouquet. It was a beautiful place, a well-tended and cared-for village.

And Satan hated it more with every second he stayed. He settled on the chair he'd brought up from his own hellish house below and sipped at a steaming mug that appeared in his hand. It had been a bold move on his part, taking over this island, one that had taken immense planning and careful action to hide deeds from Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes upstairs.

But now, now he could bring to fruition the rest of his plot, and finally win the day. He rubbed his hands together greedily, the sparks that shot out starting one of the small huts aflame. "As soon as they land, let them go to that blasted flower and then lead them here. And don't hurt them. I need them." He waved off two more of his henchmen, calling after them, "And have someone put that out, would you?"

A gong sounded in the distance, its musical notes depressed and sad in the eerie quiet of the island. Instantly, a buzzing came from a hut which was much larger than the others. A man and a woman, dressed in sarongs, appeared at the entrance.

"Please," they called in unison to Satan. "Please let us go. We must feed Love."

Satan heaved a huge and weary sigh. He missed his house with its red and black shag carpeting, his water bed with the black satin sheets. He missed the sounds of the damned, screaming for all eternity outside of his window, the smell of burning flesh as those in the pit were turned and the freshly healed flesh burned slowly away. He missed the screaming pleas for mercy as he walked out on his deck to enjoy the sultry, fetid air. Oh, that was the life. Not this place full of green growing things and, ugh, happy sounds of singing and laughing.

He shuddered as he remembered his first days here, the way the villagers had waited on him, smiling and giving him flowers to wear around his neck and in his hair. He'd had a hard time telling them apart. After so many millennia, there probably wasn't much of a choice in who to fuck around here. There must be some massive inbreeding going on. They all looked alike. The women were all tall and stacked, with platinum curls that touched their lower backs.

The men were taller, well-muscled, and liked short little sarongs that exposed as much of their flesh as possible. He'd already had to send two of his minions back to hell for touching the merchandise.

He'd known that bastard De Sade swung that way, but had warned him before he'd picked him for this little adventure to keep it in his pants until he got back to Hell. But who would have guessed Hitler liked the big boys. Maybe it was the blonde hair. After all, he always did have a preference for it.

"Please," the couple in the hut called again. "Please, Love needs us. We must go to it. Please."

He motioned to one of his minions. "Bring those two here. I want God's errand boy to see them."

* * * *

Meanwhile, back in the jungle, albeit a different part, Cupid and Hope were fighting their way to Love, hacking through thick vines which sprang up behind them as soon as they were cut down. Finding the true Love was always a battle, an uphill struggle, but the rewards were many and joyous, and paradise now, to justify the strife.

Cupid glared at the vines in frustration. "Couldn't I just fly over this mess? It would sure as hell be easier."

"No," Hope said quickly. "This is the path to the true Love. You could get turned around or loose sight of it from up above, and you'd never find Love." She slashed through another thick vine and quickly stepped through the small hole, holding it for Cupid to wing his way through. "Didn't God tell you about the false Loves, the fake ones that only seem like Love, but after a while, you know it was a mistake, that Love had done you wrong."

Cupid sighed and slid through the next hole Hope made. He watched as the hard manual work made sweat darken her white robes. It ran from her face and dampened her hair. "Hope? Why are you sweating?"

"Huh?" She pushed her hair back and paused in the space they were in. "Wow, that's weird." She stood for a second and looked at the dampness that coated her palm.

Cupid squirmed next to her, a creepy crawly feeling running up his small legs and tugging at the leg opening of his now gray diaper. He tried to bat at whatever was moving on him, but it didn't work. He tried to inch away, but something held him tightly down, not allowing him to move.

The creepy feeling crawled up the inside of his leg and around his tiny cock and even smaller set of balls. It skimmed across the wrinkled shaft and Cupid felt a strange tingle in his groin. When the eerie sensation circled his cock, he quit trying to dance away, and instead started to pull on Hope's arm.

"Hope?"

"This is really weird, Cupid. I've never perspired before. I don't think I even have sweat glands to sweat with." She wiped a drizzle of dampness off her face and continued to study the moisture gathered on her hands.

Cupid was more concerned with what was happening to him, as it felt like a finger and thumb were encircling his cock, causing it to do the strangest of things. It grew hard, as that wonderful whatever slowly stroked up and down along the lengthening shaft. It grew even more sensitive until Cupid was breathless with the sublime tingles that worked through him. The thing branched out, more "fingers" moving back and across his balls, feathering across them with the lightest of touches.

"Hope!"

"I wonder if this might have to do with the Love. I mean, this is the closest I've ever been to it before. Maybe, since love makes people more human, that's what it's doing to us too." She pushed her hair back again. "But it is hot."

Cupid looked down to the front of the dingy gray diaper. He could see it tented out, the fabric moving as whatever it was was jacking him off. His breathing grew ragged, and the tingles seem to gather, going to the base of his spine and then into his balls, tightening up his tiny sac until he could barely breathe and his knees started to tremble.

"Hope!" he screamed as his first ever orgasm shot through him. His hips jerked against the "fingers" moving over him as tiny jets of pearly white cum coated the inside of his diaper. His knees gave out and he grabbed Hope's arm to hold himself up.