by Kelex
A little part of him was disgusted for finding the act he’d witnessed erotic, but it didn’t still his hand one bit. He worked the flesh, thinking about the feel of Dag-ra as the god shoved that large cock inside him. It would surely split him in two, yet Amon had moaned in pleasure, not pain.
He’d begged for more, even knowing his life was nearing its end.
Maal remembered that look in Dag-ra’s eyes when the god had stared at him. The way the male had held it, staring into Maal’s very soul until he’d came inside Amon.
That memory was all it took to send Maal over the edge.
He spent into his hand, trying to muffle his cries with one arm draped over his face.
When he was done, he felt emptier than he had in a long, long time.
After lapping up the seed on his hand, he rolled to his side and drifted off to sleep.
* * * *
Nearly a Year Later…
“No! You cannot sacrifice him!” Maal screamed to his neighbors. He spun to face his grandfather, panic settling in.
“We have no criminals to offer,” A’gust said. “We must turn to the elders of our group.”
Their number was already down to forty-seven. Several elders had already passed on in the year since Dag-ra’s last visit, and now they wanted to add another to the list. Maal scanned the faces of those left, sickened by their decision. “I will go in his place.”
“No!” his grandfather roared. “I have lived my life. I won’t allow you to do that.”
Maal turned to the man. “You can’t leave me.”
His grandfather cupped one cheek. “One day soon, I will. You have the rest of your life ahead of you. I won’t allow you to sacrifice that.”
“Your grandfather is the eldest among us,” Mera said. “He’s the only choice we can make. As he said, he’s lived his life. A long, respectable life. His sacrifice means even more to the tribe.”
Maal shook his head, looking out at all the grim, weathered faces around him. The food stores were getting low, and they all feared starvation. That fear led them to this decision… and it sickened him.
“I am one,” his grandfather whispered. “I will give my life for the many.”
“There are only so many of us now,” Maal said. “We have no future past the next forty or so odd years, if that long. Eventually, we will all perish to Dag-ra.” He turned to his grandfather. “I don’t have much of a future left to live.”
“I have suffered enough of this world,” his grandfather said. “Let me leave it on my own terms.”
Maal swallowed the lump in his throat, struggling to understand his grandfather’s decision and hating them all for it. He raced from the meeting hall… and screamed up at the burning sun, “Damned you, Dag-ra! Damned you!”
He felt a lone tear slide down his face as he dropped to his knees. “Damned you,” he whispered before wiping it away.
In the days that followed, preparations for the ceremony occurred. They all scrubbed at their skin with brushes, mended the patches on their clothing, and shaved their heads. The hall was swept, not that anything could keep the dusty sands from flowing right back in during the storms.
The day of the ceremony they added dark powder around their eyes, just as they had every year for centuries, and marched into the hall as one. His grandfather was brought in last. Unlike Amon, his grandfather didn’t scream or writhe—nor was he naked yet.
He did turn to Maal and open his arms.
Maal, who had avoided discussing that moment, rushed to hold his grandfather close. He felt frail under the simple gown he wore, and he knew the man had barely eaten in days.
“Remember me,” his grandfather whispered.
Another tears slipped down his face as he watched them lead his grandfather to the dais. Turning away as they drew off his gown and began to chain him to the stage, Maal gasped for the air that wouldn’t come to his lungs.
Don’t let him do this.
Sacrifice yourself.
“Wait!” Maal cried. “I can’t let this happen. Let me be the sacrifice.” Several of the other men grabbed him, refusing to let him step forward.
“No,” A’gust said. “We need your strength, Maal.”
“He’s right,” his grandfather said before offering a wry smile. “I’m ready to go.”
The other held him back as the priest stepped onto the dais. “Dag-ra, we beseech you! Come take this offering we make to you this day.”
More tears spilled from his eyes and clouded his vision. His heart thundered in his chest, making it hard to hear the words the priest continued crying out. The light came soon after, and he tried to force his way out of their hands.
Dag-ra stood before them, just as he had the year before. Naked, glowing with golden light… just as beautiful as all the nights Maal had seen the god in his mind. Those nights when he’d touched himself and begged to have the god’s touch on his skin. There had been so many in the last year.
“No!” Maal cried, unable to push through those holding him back.
Dag-ra’s head tilted. He stared at Maal, lids narrowing.
“Mighty Dag-ra! Please accept our sacrifice,” the priest recited.
Maal screamed again. “No… don’t take him!”
Dag-ra turned away from Maal and gazed at his grandfather. He lifted his chin after a moment and eyed the priest. “This is what you offer? A fallow male of age?”
Fallow? Whatever… he didn’t care. “Don’t kill my grandfather!”
“Shut up!” Mera spat. “Or he’ll kill us all!”
Maal trembled with a mix of fear and rage, knowing he was dooming them all with what he said, but he couldn’t hold back and let them murder his grandfather.
And there was a tiny piece of him, a part that sensed the god would listen to him.
“Take me instead!” Maal cried to Dag-ra.
The deity’s head lifted, and that fiery stare was back on him. Heat flooded Maal’s body as he held that gaze, his blood instantly filled with lust. Dag-ra jumped from the stage and took three long steps before he stopped inches from Maal’s chest. One wave of the hand, and the others who’d been holding him were swept off their feet, falling to their asses.
“This sacrifice, I will accept,” Dag-ra said, his voice reverberating through Maal’s body.
“No!” his grandfather cried, shaking the chains with his hands.
Dag-ra lifted one hand, snapped his fingers, and suddenly it was Maal naked and hanging in the chains.
A shiver swept down Maal’s body. How many times had he seen this very moment in his head? He trembled with need, realizing his fantasy was now made flesh.
The god’s hands caressed his body as water rained down upon his skin. They were indoors and he couldn’t see where the water came from, but it was never ending. Every time he lifted his head, the deluge blinded him. The sensation of the water coursing over his flesh was sublime. Maal felt his body quicken at the male’s touch, his cock lengthening and thickening at the caresses.
When Dag-ra gripped the base of his cock and stroked him, he groaned with pleasure. The god held him aloft, the male’s strength making him all the weaker. He moaned again, his head falling back to land on Dag-ra’s chest.
The deity rubbed his chin against Maal’s forehead…
And then the water disappeared and Dag-ra removed his hands.
Maal hung there limply, his body aching for more. He couldn’t see the god, but sensed the male behind him. Lifting his head, he saw all the villagers watching him closely before turning his face away from them. He didn’t care if they watched.
Soon, he would be no more.
Are you ready, my love?
Dag-ra’s hands were all over him, stroking and bringing a pleasure Maal had never felt in his life.
“Yesss,” he hissed, unsure if the god had spoken aloud or not.
Do you surrender to me?
“I do,” he said on a sigh, a moan following his words.
Dag-ra st
epped away from him, and he groaned his displeasure. He was almost sure he heard the god chuckling in his mind seconds before the first lash of the golden whip crossed his back.
Pain blossomed… but that pain was mixed with sheer pleasure. A moan came from his lips, the sweet torment too much to handle. His heartbeat sped with every lash that followed, until it felt as if it would burst through his chest.
And then the deity was behind him, the head of that massive cock nudging him. Something slick oozed from the head, the golden seed, he was sure. It spread against his hole, slickening the passage before the monster cock began to surge into him.
Maal screamed at the sensation of being rent in two. Yet somehow, it was complete pleasure in the very same moment. He felt both sides of it so vividly, the torment and the delight, and it nearly shattered him then and there. By the time the god’s huge cock fully impaled him, the pain faded.
There was only intense pleasure.
His body shook from it. His breathing was labored. Sweat coated his skin, skin that tingled all over, awaiting the god’s caress.
Do you wish me to fuck you and fill you with my seed?
“Yesss,” Maal hissed, pushing back against the thick staff.
Dag-ra gripped his hips before drawing out a couple of inches. When he thrust back in, Maal saw colors swimming in his vision. Heat sped through his veins, a moan ripped from his lips.
The god moved again… and again… the strokes of his cock lengthening. He pulled almost completely out before driving back into Maal’s body, over and over again.
When Dag-ra reached under him and cupped his cock, he nearly lost his mind. The strokes of the god’s hand, coupled with the broad cock stretching him apart sent him over the edge.
He came, his body bucking against Dag-ra’s, his moans echoing in his ears.
The god came a few strokes later, filling him with heat.
And then he felt as if he was floating away…
This isn’t such a bad way to die.
It took him a moment to realize Dag-ra had lifted him into those massive, muscled arms. He caressed Maal’s face lovingly, a smile on his lips. “This is a worthy sacrifice.”
The god lowered Maal to his feet before spreading a palm along Maal’s abdomen. “The seed is sown.”
“What?” Maal asked, but was quieted by a kiss so breathtaking he lost all conscious thought. There was a tenderness in it that he hadn’t been expecting, either.
A tenderness that nearly made him think… that he was more than a simple sacrifice.
And then the deity was gone. Any thoughts that he could have the love of a god went with Dag-ra.
Maal scanned the space, shocked that he still lived… and that his god had left him. He searched the crowd and didn’t see his grandfather… and was thankful for that.
“Your skin,” A’gust whispered.
Maal looked down to see it faintly glowed golden, almost like Dag-ra’s. He saw the slight tremble to his fingers and knew how close he’d come to death.
He was still willing to give everything if it meant he could save what was left of his family.
“How am I still alive?”
None had an answer for him.
Mera climbed onto the dais and handed Maal his clothing. “Dag-ra left no spoils,” she said before lifting her head, an angry glimmer to her eyes as she met Maal’s stare. “I hope you’re happy. You’ve killed us all.”
Maal pulled on his tattered clothing and could feel the weight of every stare on him. The air simmered with their rage, and he sensed he might be in danger.
He’d survived one death. Could he avoid another?
As soon as stiff fabric of his clothing fell into place, it transformed. Frowning, he looked down at his body, He was no longer wearing the dried, brittle cloth. Confused, he ran his hand over the soft, slick material. His palm slid over it with ease. The colors were rich and vibrant.
The others gasped around him before looking down at their own tattered clothing to see they were still wearing what they’d had on.
He had so many questions…
“Where is he?”
“Your grandfather?” Mera asked.
Maal nodded.
“He left when Dag-ra took you. I doubt he could stand to watch it,” she answered, still staring at his new clothing.
Maal leapt from the dais and went in search of his grandfather. As soon as his foot hit the ground outside the door, something miraculous happened.
A patch of grass a foot or so wide spread out around it.
Rich, green grass.
It looked so foreign amid the cracked, parched earth around it. He stood there, frozen for a moment, staring down, the members of his tribe mumbling and pressing behind him.
“Move, damned you,” Mera said before pushing between his shoulders.
He stumbled a few more steps, more grass sprouting as he moved, until he fell to the ground. His landing was soft, the new growth buffering his fall.
A flower suddenly bloomed beside him, a rich color he’d never seen before. Maal reached for the petals, and as his hand moved, more flowers emerged from the grass, all in different hues.
He pulled his hand back, as if he’d done something wrong.
Maal lifted his gaze and saw the entire tribe standing around him, their mouths dropped open.
Not the entire tribe.
There was one missing. He climbed back to his feet and went in search of his grandfather. Each step brought more green to the earth around him. Off in the distance, he saw the green spreading out in waves. He raced home and found his grandfather standing just outside the door.
He rubbed his eyes as Maal neared, his mouth slack. “How?”
Maal stopped inches from his grandfather… and that was when the older man seemed to notice the green tide coming with him.
“What is this?”
“I don’t know,” Maal said, intrigued… and a little scared.
His grandfather stepped closer and drew Maal into his arms. “You live. It’s all I could ask for.”
Maal squeezed his grandfather tightly.
The sound of something roaring nearby made them both back away.
A cliff had suddenly appeared near their hut, and water raced down it and into a vast pool. Unable to stop himself, Maal ran to the water and knelt at the edge. He collected some of the clear water in one palm and lifted it to his mouth. It was cool and crisp. As he stared up at the waterfall, he watched as vines and foliage sprung up around the pool and climbed up parts of the cliff face.
“There’s a huge garden near the hall,” a voice cried out in the distance.
Maal turned to his grandfather, who was kneeling beside him, drinking from the pool. “A garden?”
After helping the man to his feet, they made their way back to the hall and saw all the buildings had transformed. While still basic, they were no longer broken, rotted hulls of leftover structures from the beforetimes. A stream snaked its way along the outer edge of the village, the clear, crystal waters languidly spilling. Grass spread out all around the community, and a huge garden grew where a large pile of rock and metal had once risen like a mountain.
Members of the tribe knelt in the middle of the garden, plucking the vegetables straight from the earth and eating them raw. His stomach cried out to join them, but he heard another noise that had his head turning.
The sound of mooing came from the distance. Maal turned in a circle, searching for the direction. He followed the clamor and soon came upon a wide, open pasture filled with cattle and sheep. There was more than enough to feed them… to breed for more. With the newfound resources they had, none would go hungry… or thirst for anything.
He slowly ambled back to the garden and stopped on the outer fringes of it as he watched what he believed to be a tree sprouting before his very eyes. As he reached out to caress a leaf, a flower bloomed and an apple formed in his hand.
More apples grew within the tree, and more trees sprang up, all la
den with different fruits, some he’d never seen before. He only knew of their existence from Feast Day when his grandfather had once brought him a shining red apple and he’d kept it so long it had rotted before he could eat it.
He plucked this one from the tree and brought it to his lips. The bite was cool and refreshing, the sweetness making him moan with delight. A drop of juice slid down his chin and he turned to the others gathering around him. “It’s delicious.”
A few other tribesmen took from the trees and began feasting on the fruit.
He watched it all spread out before him, as if he was in a dream.
Perhaps I did die and this is the heaven the elders speak of.
It made more sense than to imagine this was real. If this was his afterlife, he would accept it and not question one second.
He suddenly felt an odd sensation in his stomach. Maal lowered a hand to his abdomen, a queasy feeling coming over him.
“Without Maal, this wouldn’t have been possible,” his grandfather announced loudly before looking at him. “His sacrifice gave us all of this.”
The tribe approached him, circling around.
“Forgive me,” Mera whispered before dropping to her knees before him.
Maal frowned and watched as the rest of the tribe knelt before him. Shocked by their reaction, he stood there silently, nausea coming to him in waves.
Perhaps the magic is almost gone… maybe this is real and once it’s done, I’ll perish.
The darkness came… and he felt himself falling.
* * * *
When Maal awoke, he lay on something soft. He had yet to open his eyes, afraid to see where he might be. He reached out around him and felt soft material. Willing one eye open, he saw nothing but the smooth, cool fabric stretching out before him. He rose to sit and realized he was on some kind of bed. One much softer than any he’d lain upon before now.
Candles flickered around the room, filling it with soft light.
A gentle breeze blew, curtains billowing in every direction around him. Off in the distance, he could see the moon, low and heavy.