The Exchange - Dark Gods

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A god asks a heavy price from a puritan girl.
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Kileka
Kileka
30 Followers

As a note, the other language is Latin.

*

The bright light of torches shines through the trees as the sounds of hurried, angry voices follow it. The sound of overexerted panting can be heard closer. Besides, the thick overgrown forest is dead silent. The chilled air has quieted all the night creatures. The crescent moon shines brightly and the stars twinkle freely in a clear sky. There is no wind to rustle the leaves that have grown orange and yellow with the coming of fall.

A younger girl bursts through the trees to a clearing with a large, ominous church in the middle. She hastily runs across the clearing to the doors of the church. The unlit, abandoned building is devoured in vines with the stone tattered and discolored. She struggles with opening the molded wooden doors, tugging and pushing, almost in a panic. The door finally creaks and slowly opens. She hurries in. The inside looks just as run down as the outside. The air is musty and dank. Remnants of moldy, infested carpet and half-eaten benches are scattered about. Rusted candelabra surround the bare altar. There is no light from the dusty stained glass.

The girl quickly grabs the nearest candelabra and bars the doors with it. She then takes a moment to catch her breath and compose herself. She smoothes out the wrinkles in her brown puritan dress and brushes back the brown hair sticking to her sweaty face. Then, she approaches the altar and pulls a lump wrapped in a black cloth out of a cloak pocket. She puts them on the altar, revealing the objects. The first object is a large, black, faceted stone; the second is a tiny animal skull and the third is a gold locket. Then she hurriedly fumbles a piece of chalk out of her pocket and begins drawing a pentagram on the altar around the objects. She puts the piece of chalk back into her pocket and gets on her knees in front of the altar. She folds her hands and begins praying, "Per navitas inter mihi quod navitas intus mihi, EGO dico super ceterus universitas plagiarius. O valde unus, EGO voco vos!" Her voice rings out. She jumps, stands and turns around from a loud, sudden bang on the doors. The candelabrum rattles as the bangs and yells get louder.

The girl closes her eyes and re-centers herself. But before she can continue, she jumps again as a loud snap and a creak comes from the door. In a last effort, she quickly falls to her knees and chants in a loud desperate voice, "O, valde abbas o lies, senior o atrum guise, EGO tribuo vos meus somes quod phasmatis pro regimen huic terra o ratio. Commodo!" Dirty looking peasants carrying pitchforks and torches crowd the church with a large priest carrying a large gold cross leading them. She repeats "Please," over and over as the priest moves behind her. An aged pinnacle of old faith, he is wearing all black. He has a severe face as he raises a bible and smacks her in the back of the head with it. She yelps and falls to the ground.

She lays still as the priest starts yelling, "Vile, wretched, demon-spawn; we will send you back to the fiery pit of Hell from which you came!" He continues yelling as the girl struggles to get up, looking dazed and rubbing the back of her head. The crowd behind looks fierce and determined, agreeing in chorus with the priest and waving their farm tools at the girl.

The girl stands up defiantly with tears in her eyes. The crowd moves back in horror, all except the priest. The girl's expression moves to bewilderment and caution. The priest pauses in his ravings. For a moment there is silence except the girl's hoarse breathing and the shuffling of feet. She raised her hands and yells out, "Shanareal, meus Deus, quod meus senior. Adveho quod smite qui votum mihi vulnero!!"

All goes quiet as the girl falls to her knees. The priest smirks, "Your false gods mean nothing in the face of the Lord and his unwavering justice. You will burn like the rest of the devil-worshippers."

All of the sudden, a male-cocky voice fills the room, "I am not a devil or false. And it is your God that means nothing." An average figure steps through the crowd. His pale skin is the color of the moon on a black night. His hair is slick, long, stringy and the color of ravens. He is like Greek statue, bare-chested with rings at the peak of his breast. Casually covering his hips are leather pants, black like his shadow instead of part of him. He has chains and straps like Dante in the inferno around his legs. Six large metal rings pierce his back down his spine. His face is Romanesque, free of color and metal. Curvy, spiked metal crowns his ears. His eyes are obsidian orbs. His commanding, rich voice echoes again, "You just had to challenge me, preacher." The last word was said with spite. The priest looks shocked and frightened. The figure continues forward confronting the priest. "The average whining of a follower interests me not. However, she was smart enough to say my name, and then you had to insult my status."

The priest shrinks to the god's presence and lifts his cross, "Leave us, evil creature..." his voice is shaking.

The creature rolls his eyes, "I am not evil, just self-serving. Such symbols mean nothing." The cross melts in the priest's hand.

The god turns his attention to the girl, "I, Sharaneal, Lord of Night, name humility as my price. Are you prepared to pay it?" The girl, shaking and scared, nods slowly. Shanareal points at her and she flies back, hitting the wall behind the altar. Animated dark vines sprout up from the stone floor and pin her to the wall. Thorns tear at her clothes and mar her skin. He turns again to the priest; "I'll save you for last." He faces the crowd of villagers, speaking to them, "Poor, hapless sods. Like lambs to the slaughter, it's almost too easy." An oversized stiletto forms in his hands. It is a slim, sharp piece of metal that emanates an aura of darkness, with a jewel encrusted handle wound in black silk. He lunges forward, cutting down villagers with graceful ease. The doors slam close as people clamor against it. The god slithersamong the crowd, flaying arms, legs, torsos and heads. Limbs and chunks of gore cover everything before the altar. Blood covers the walls and the floor, making them a slippery, sticky surface. Many people slip, making them easier targets. The priest watches in horror as the butchery continues. Screams and cries echo through the room. The girl cries, burdened with the guilt of her actions.

Finally, when the last person falls and the screams die out, Sharaneal walks up to the altar again. He is covered in blood and gore until he shakes it off like a dog, covering everything around him. "Ah, the joy of the kill. Something so rare," he snaps his fingers causing creatures to form from the shadows. They look like dark, metal, spine covered wolf-like creatures and they start devouring the corpses and bits. He grins at the priest and grabs his throat, "You will live to tell the tale of this night but not without suffering." He shoves his fingers into the priest's eye-sockets producing a squelch and a gush of blood. He pushes him to the floor, bleeding and moaning. The priest drags himself to the door as the wolves snap at him, leaving gashes across his frame. He watches him go with a look of satisfaction upon his face He watches him go with a look of satisfaction upon his face He watches him go with a look of satisfaction upon his face He watches him go with a look of satisfaction upon his face He watches him go with a look of satisfaction upon his face.

Shanareal's attention turns to the altar and the gold locket upon it. "Now, what to do with you?" He picks the locket up and opens it up. A picture of the girl and an older woman calms him. He snaps his fingers and the dark wolfs leap back into the shadows. He looks at the girl, who is sobbing and hanging from the vines. A strike of anger flashes through his features as he makes his way towards her. The church doors slam shut, almost flying off the hinges in the process. When he reaches her, he lifts her chin revealing her ruddy, wet face. He speaks softly, "Is this not what you wanted, young one?"

In a congested, shaking voice she replies, "You killed them...all of them."

"You did ask me to smite them, which I interpreted as death. And, nevertheless, payment is required."

A look of fear crosses her face, "What will you do with me?"

"Simply, I will use you as enjoyment and entertainment. And as you are so young and full of life, I will do it with the utmost pleasure. However, I must ask that you quit blubbering; it takes the fun out of things." The girl takes a deep breath and wipes her face on her sleeve. "There, my brave Persephone. You are the most lovely thing," he unties her cloak, "Young, pale flesh. Rosy cheeks and full lips." She gasps and shudders as he puts his hand up her dress, "And such a lovely, full waist." He pulls his hand out and cups her breast. Her cheeks turn deep red as he says, "And such a round bosom. You're so conservative, though," a look of profound interest crowds his expression, "Are you a virgin?"

The girl looks taken aback and boldly asks, "Will you take me unwillingly?" His eyebrow goes up as he says, "Ooh, that sounds fun. Are you willing?"

"No, that's immoral."

"Then, are you a virgin?"

"...Yes, I am chaste."

"Oh, this just keeps getting better. Where to start? Where to finish?"

"You intend to take my chastity? "

"Of course. Did you intend me to work for free? Or to be a God of Mercy? You weren't exactly worshipping Elevina, the Bringer of Day."

"I cannot bring myself to let you take me willingly."

"All the more fun for me," he says as he puts his hand on her throat. "I promise you will succumb by the end of it."

She cringes and says, "No, please."

"Don't worry, it'll be the greatest pleasure you will ever have. You will spend the rest of your days masturbating to the thought of this night and begging me to do it again." He tilts her head and a long serpentine tongue glides along the rim of her ear. She starts crying again as he unbuttons the top of her dress. He gets impatient and tears off the front showing a white, sleeveless under-dress. Apparent old scars mar her sunken belly through the see-through slip. He spots them and the vines release her hands. He swiftly turns her around, revealing the discolored pinched scars on her back. Barely any of her pale flesh is visible among them. He traces them with his finger as she places her forehead on the stone. She stills herself, stopping the flow of tears. He tears off the bottom part of her dress, leaving only the slip, panties, stockings and shoes. She's shaking as he clutches her hair and turns her to kiss him. He invades her mouth with his dark-colored tongue and when it touches hers, she jumps.

She pushes away from him, landing on her bottom on the floor. She sits up, one of her straps falling off her shoulder and her thighs open. The god tilts his head as she turns red again and closes her legs, "Stop, please. Anything but that. I want to be a good wife someday."

He sighs and says, "The hard way it is." He yanks her up and shoves her into the altar. He then forcibly bends her over it. She clutches on to it and grits her teeth as he pounds into her with his hips. He grabs onto her arms and whispers into her ear, "Feel my need, my dear Persephone? Feel how stiff my manhood is? ...I will not be thwarted." He pulls her to stand and she goes limp. He pushes the other strap of her dress down and runs his tongue along the curve of her neck. He nips at her neck as he holds her shoulder and his other hand trails down her waist to her thigh. That hand trails back up and under her slip. She moans as his index finger curls onto her mound. He whispers, "So sensitive, as though never touched before. Have you ever touched yourself?" He nibbles on her ear lobe. She nods hesitantly. "Show me," he demands.

Her hands move down, sliding her panties down her thighs and letting them fall to her feet. Her right hand moves between her legs and spreads her moist pussy lips. He puts his own hand on top of hers, feeling her hand movements, as she slides her index finger into herself. She reaches full depth with her finger and her head flies back. He lifts her leg allowing her better access to herself. He licks her ear as she kneads her breast. Fluid begins dripping onto the floor from her slit. He abruptly turns her around and grasps the hand she was pleasing herself with. He wraps his tongue around the intruding finger. He looks pleased as he says, "Feel obliged to keep fingering yourself."

He pushes her down to her knees. She looks up at him as he puts her hand on the giant lump in his pants. He pulls a strap off his pants and winds it around her neck, tying it in the back. He threads his hand in her hair and pushes her mouth against the lump. She stills, not knowing what to do. He pulls her back and coaxes one of his fingers into her mouth. He grumbles, "Suck it. "When he is satisfied with her performance on his finger, he removes it. He moves to pull down his pants, revealing marble, hairless thighs and his pale, oversized manhood. It has metal bars all down the top of it. He grasps it and presses it against her lips. She slowly lets it in her mouth, filling it to puff out her cheeks. She wraps a hand around his thigh and begins fingering herself again as he pushes her back and forth around his cock. Fluid drips down her thighs and spittle forms on her bottom lip as he violates her mouth. He says, just loud enough for her to hear, "Breath in rhythm." She follows his advice, aligning her breaths with the movements. "Open real wide and breath deep." She does so and he pulls almost all the way out. Then he shoves it all the way in, stretching out her throat. Her eyes roll back and tears form in her eyes. He pushes her backs and forth, sliding in and out of her throat. The metal clicks on her teeth and a suction sound comes from her throat every time he enters it. Her hand trails up his midsection and he clutches it, his expression one of rapture. His hands wind in her hair as he pumps into her harder. She struggles to match his pace. She has her eyes closed and tilts her head as he further increases her pace. He grunts loudly as he shoots jism into her open mouth. He lets her go as she swallows his load and wipes her mouth.

She stands and he licks her lower lip. His pants turn to smoke as he says, "On the altar with you." She hesitates and he points at her. She is flung back on the altar, which abruptly knocks all the stuff off it. Vines sprout up from the ground and twine around her arms and legs, locking them in place. She struggles with them as the god perches himself between her legs. As he gazes admiringly at her, he caresses her thighs. He spreads her thighs open as he leans down to gently lick her crevice. He savors the taste as he fingers her slit. He only pushes it in a little, feeling for her hymen. He pushes against it and says, "You weren't lying, my little innocence." He follows her slit up with his tongue, grazing her urethra and flicking her exposed clit. She convulses and stiffens. He does this again as she yells out and a pool of fluid forms below her.

Impatiently, he flips her over. He yanks her slip down, breaking the straps. He cups her breasts and tickles her ear, "I can't wait anymore. I need to feel your insides. I want to spread my seed in you."

The girl starts pleading, "My god, please, no. Stop, no!" He ignores her and poises his cock against her pussy lips. The vines tighten against her arms and legs as he pushes inside her. Her pussy stretches slowly, suffocating his cock. She screams in protest. He abruptly hilts her, and she cries out. Tears stream down her cheeks and droplets of blood hit the altar. Before he continues, he catches a droplet with his finger and tastes it. He leans against her and slowly slides in and out of her. The mixture of fluid and blood produces a squish, slosh in protest. He coos at her, "You're too good to be true, so tight and soft. I can feel your searing hot insides tantalizing me. "

She bites back, "Bastard."

Taken aback, he frowns, "I'll show you a bastard." The vines let go of her arms and legs. He grabs an arm and her neck. She clutches the hand holding her neck as he pounds into her. Her tits jiggle with each thrust, and she screams a mixture of pain and pleasure. She can see his manhood pushing against her midsection. He puts her back down on the altar and puts a leather strap in her mouth. He yanks her up and says, "You're being a little too loud, love." He continues to brutally pound into her, using only the throng in her mouth as leverage. He begins panting and moaning. He pushes her shoulders down as he slows a little and the leather piece falls to the ground. He pulls out, his cock covered in her juices. She turns over onto her back and spreads her legs.

As he begins to fuck her again, her small, squeaky voice says, "Please be gentle." He slows down, gently thrumming into her. For the first time, the girl moans in absolute pleasure. His hair tickles her belly as her legs curl around his hips. He thumbs her clit and she arches in response, her moaning getting more ragged and throaty. It doesn't take long for her to reach her climax, her cunt squeezing and dripping around his throbbing cock. He continues to thrust into her as his need to cum grows and his control runs slim. His head flies back and he roars, spurting seed into her. He covers her insides, and her expression shows that she's enjoying it. He leaves her pussy and she curls into a ball. She says, "I could feel the bars rubbing against me."

"Did you like it?" he asks, his voice ragged. She shrinks to the floor, jism flowing out of her slit. She doesn't answer him. The god puts his hands on his hips.

The girl slowly stands and pulls her slip up over her breasts. She fetches her cloak and wraps it around herself. Shivering, she stops to his voice, "Do you think I'm done with you?"

She looks at him in shock, "What more could you possibly do to me?"

"I can think of a few things. Such as anal for starters and maybe some bestiality later." She looks confused. The god rolls his eyes and says very matter of fact, "I want to fuck you in the butt and I can take many forms, my dear. This humanoid one is simply the most appealing to your race." She looks disgusted with her hand to her mouth. She puts a hand on her bottom. "I've been having way too much fun to let you go so soon. Plus, I haven't even humiliated you yet," he says casually. He's sitting on the altar, a black cloth covering his waist.

The girl looks up bravely and says, "Well, come on."

The god is fully hard as he pins her against the wall. He spreads her legs and slides into her pussy again. He fucks her gently, slowly and she moans, clutching the wall. He takes a few moments to get her wet again, and rubs his finger along her asshole. He pulls out of her pussy and pushes against her sphincter. She shakes violently as he does this. He pauses to wipe her face and kisses her as he pushes against her ass again. She grimaces, as he slowly pushes into her bowels. She cries out, but he holds her tight. He starts extremely slow, allowing her to become accustomed to him. He pushes her harder against the wall and pushes all the way into her. He grips her ass cheek as he says, "You're so tight, my dove. It's been so long since I've had such a good time." Her sphincter stretches and moves around his cock. There are popping sounds as the metal bars moves in and out of her sphincter. His brow creases as he speeds up a little more.

The girl's mouth hangs open, and she says in between breaths, "It feels so strange. It hurts." Her eyes are closed. He speeds up his anal violation even more. Sweat forms on her brow and in between her knees. She furrows her brow in frustration as he parts her ass cheeks. He hilts her as he comes again, panting and grunting. She moans to the contractions of his dick in her ass. They both pant as he lets her go.

Kileka
Kileka
30 Followers
12