1 – Sacrifice

We chose carefully of the locals. Those who would not be noticed, not missed, not mourned. My first victim was a man I’d found homeless and alone, sheltered under an old oak in the forest. He fought and bled, bled for our God, then fell once my magic took hold. There in the slow pattering of rain I stared at his unconscious face, his worry lines eased, his breathing slow and shallow. I sacrificed him, a gruesome yet necessary task. He never awoke. He was not my last.

Sacrifice by sacrifice I felt myself ascend. The land tensed before us, the grass wilted under our feet, and the trees sacrificed themselves to our cause. With each death the veil thinned and my reach grew. I could feel God’s heralds just beyond reach, eager to be released upon the realm of man. It was a sensual, even sexual feeling and I began to take liberties in my duty to God. The heralds sang in my mind, praised me, showed me the righteousness of my path.

Even now I felt their ethereal hands upon me, I felt their urgency as I held the woman by her hair and pinned her against the tree. She looked into my eyes, terrified and weeping. I knew what she saw, the golden glow in my eyes once dull brown eyes, the intense expression, the deep red lips. I was beautiful, and I was terrible. My dagger rose before her fear filled gaze and I traced the tip along her lips. Blood welled from the corner of her mouth as I nicked it, she flinched back with nowhere to go.

“Please let me go?” She begged as the knife slid down her throat and stopped in the hollow.

I smiled wide and joyful, “you should be happy, I can smell the misery upon you. How many times have you been raped? How many nights have you gone to bed hungry, or in tears?” her eyes closed and she did not answer. “Your life has been nothing but chain of misery, link after link leading you here, to me, to your true purpose.” I sliced down, gently, only a few lines of blood drawn as I cut away her ragged clothes and exposed sagging breasts.

“W-what purpose?” she blubbered.

My knife touched her navel and stopped. Her stomach was lined with stretch marks, baggy, wrinkled, and used. She was hideous, yet beautiful all the same. “You will help God return to us.” I dragged the blade down, double edged, justly pointed, acid etched in holy script, and sharp as a razor. She whimpered and climbed to her tip toes as it cut away her skirt and nestled between the folds of her sex.

I began to chant, calling to God to enter this wretch. The first rhythmic circle finished, her body shuddered. I pushed the point into her entrance. Her legs parted involuntarily as my fingers were dampened with urine and blood. The second circle finished, her skin glistened with golden light and I pressed the dagger to the hilt. Her muscles clenched on it, hard, cutting themselves grievously. I released the hilt and laid my hand to her navel. Third circle finished, the glow seeped inside, her stomach clenched, blood gushed from between her legs, the dagger twitched but did not fall free.

She tried to attack me then, enough composure regained. Her fingers clawed at my plate armor, dug into cracks and seams. The fourth circle finished and I ignored her. Her stomach bulged, violently, it felt like a child’s kick but harder and did not retreat. She bulged again upon the fifth chant’s completion. I felt the veil of reality strain around us, felt the Heralds reaching, reaching, reaching. Blue-black fluid replaced the blood that sprayed from between her trembling thighs and ran down the hilt of the dagger. She screamed a death knell and threw her head back as her stomach rippled and pulsed.

I completed the sixth circle of chant. Her pelvis cracked, her stomach bloated, internal structures tore apart to make room. Her eyes stared upon me with utter horror as something moved inside of her, something alive churned her womb and bowels to tattered mush. I completed the seventh circle, holy seven, and reached for the ichor slick hilt. One quick slash upward, from the depths of her vagina to the base of her ribs. Blue-black ichor spilled onto the forest floor. Tattered ropes of intestine flopped free. Within was a writhing mass of… I did not know what; blue-black, muscular, alive. They looked like tadpoles as long as trees were tall, squirming in a mass.

I’d never gotten such a powerful result, nothing even close. Every time before, I’d opened the sacrifice and found only torn entrails, occasionally a smear of black. Her eyes were still on me, confused and disoriented, full of agony. I released her and she slowly slid down the tree to the forest floor. Her head drooped and her eyes discovered the writhing mass below her rib cage. Her head lifted again and she tried to speak, but no words passed her lips, only the chant.

She did not die, only continued the chant, over and over. The mass within grew, expanded beyond the confines of her ruined flesh. It spilled onto the forest floor and spread like a puddle. I stepped back, away from the wet, sticky, and blood scented mess. The veil seemed to be gone and I could feel the touch of the Heralds upon my bare skin under my armor. Their whispers were incomprehensible howls, demands in the divine tongue I could not understand.

I felt my hand rise and looked to see the knife held point forward, toward the sacrifice. I stepped forward through no will of my own, ankle deep in the black mass. I reached her again, knelt down, and inserted the divine blade into the abyss that had been her body. Wrist, elbow, and shoulder passed through, passed beyond the tree, beyond this world and into the next. My cheek laid to her blood stained breast as I reached and reached.

The blade pierced something, penetrated. The world around me shuddered like a single wave upon a placid pond, like the strike of a gong, like lightning and thunder from a clear sky. The knife dissolved and ran from my fingers like sand. My hand opened, and something fell into it, something soft and hot. I pulled it free and the universe rebelled, dragged at my arm. I felt like I would rip shoulder from socket, but I persisted until my wrist pulled free at last. The blue-black mass retreated, slurped like pasta back into the gaping wound in reality, back into the sacrifice. It tugged at me as it passed, called to me to join it, to surrender my own flesh, to enter the other side. I resisted. My duty was here, my purpose here. Heaven would wait.

With another gong like ripple the world settled back into normality. The veil returned and the Heralds were pushed back from this world. I was free to act of my own volition again, free to think, free to understand. I had to find a beast, the most powerful beast of the land. I looked down into my hand, a fleshy worm of shimmering gold was curled in my palm, and it needed a host. No sentience could get in it’s way, it needed a mind of pure instinct. Gently, carefully, I slipped my hand under the skirt of my armor and into the leather folds. The hot fleshed worm uncurled from my palm and slipped the last few inches inside and began to writhe straight up into my womb. It would be safe there, for now, safe until I found what it needed.

2 – Beast Bound

Upon hands and knees in the kennel, I howled. Atop me the great dire wolf rutted, teeth upon my neck, fore paws clutched at my waist, dew claw sank into flesh. His massive erection sank in again as it spilled his hot coppery lust. That knot, bigger than a fist, hammered once more at my entrance. Something tore as it passed inside. My howl cut off as breath was knocked from my lungs. He mashed his haunches against my rump and bottomed out, that massive prick punching me from within. Then he pulsed, throbbed, and swelled again. I screamed and he bit down even harder. Blood ran from my neck and dribbled off my bare breasts. Lust ran from my shaved sex and down my thighs.

The knot tied, it sank past my pelvis, swelled beyond belief and stretched my well used passage to lock him within. This was not the first canine I had tried, but he was the largest by far. Though he was an apex predator to be sure, I felt no stirring within my womb. The suffering and shame had been for naught. I could not pull away now, now that I knew I had wasted my time. The monster held me fast with fleshy bondage. I trembled under him as his thrusts grew erratic and urgent. Every thrust pushed me forward, then dragged my hips back, knees off the floor.

His seed continued to spill, from a steady trickle to a veritable flood. A tinge of red blood stained his yellow ejaculate as it splattered from my folds and pooled under us. He throbbed again, his knot expanded further and sealed me, the flow stopped. He released my neck and arched his back, then began to keen. A fierce release tore through him, humiliating me before God. I laid with beasts for Him, suffered their abuses and let myself be tainted by their seed. A weak, pathetic burst of pleasure rolled through me at the thought. His hot, sperm laden semen splattered against my cervix in thick and tough ropes. That pathetic surge of pleasure passed the threshold into orgasm then, as I suffered for God’s plan. I too cried out my pleasure while vaginal walls trembled and hugged the animal’s shaft. My womb began to drink of his potent yet wasted ejaculate yet the golden worm did not stir.

He climbed off after a moment, and I thought him done. He raised a leg and stepped over, around, and moved a few feet back. I was dragged off my knees again, dragged by the sex across the floor. Then he sat, forced my pelvis down, damp sex to dirty ground. The mat I had been kneeling on was covered in mingled fluids, and I was forced to lay upon it, breast to face, and steep in the mess.

Together we lay, bonded, for what felt like an eon. Every few beats of his powerful heart and he would ejaculate again. I felt my own heart match his, match the throb of his penetrating flesh. Slowly my awareness faded, slid into a gentle dream like state of pleasure and satisfaction. I forgot for a moment that he was an animal, that my duty compelled me to defile myself. I felt only the gentle pulse of his fluids, of his phallus filling me, the delicious afterglow. A smile crept over my red lips, my cheek in a puddle of semen. Brief contentment filled me. I was after all serving as best I could.

It came to an end at last. Minute by minute his orgasm faded and his knot deflated until he slipped from my folds entirely with a gurgling gush. The ache in my stomach released along with his built up seed. It spurted, then sputtered, then dribbled free of me as I lay face down, still and quiet. He rose to all fours and pressed his nose to my rump. Cold and wet, it startled. He snuffled, nosed, and sniffed. His muzzle trailed up my back, to my neck. He licked at the wounds for a moment, a tender affection from the animal who had inflicted them. I endured, too exhausted to resist, though I knew I would have to sterilize the punctures soon.

For a moment I thought he would leave, back to his corner and his bedding to sleep. He took a few steps forward, still above me, then stopped. I tilted my head slightly and opened my eyes. Above me his heavy sheath and balls hung, the angry red of his tapered tip was still exposed. It looked so small, sheathed as it was, but the pain in my depths told a different tale.

He lifted one of his legs high. I only had a chance to furrow my brow, not enough to make the connection before his penis twitched, emerged a bit further, and golden yellow urine began to stream free. He aimed well, that was about all I could say. The first, milky and mingled trickle hit me square between my parted lips, then watered upward over my nose and between my eyes, then into my matted hair. He released his bladder into my face, a quick cleaned his urethra of semen, and marked me all at once.

I was too stunned to react at first. The intense flavor filled my mouth; his bitter waste mingled with musky, coppery cum. The stench filled my nose as his urine flowed inside. My eyes burned as it pooled in them. The humiliation and degradation was too much. I was a priestess of God, not a latrine for dogs! I recoiled violently and thrust him from me. He tumbled to the floor, the spray of urine hit the wall instead. He yiped loudly as he sprawled, I rolled away and onto my hands and knees, gagging. He rolled back to his feet with a bestial snarl and then while still pissing, he leaped toward me, maw wide and straining for my neck.

I raised my arm in time and caught his jaw upon it. He bit down, my forearm snapped like deadwood, then the rest of him landed heavy upon me and slammed me to the floor. He outmassed me four to one, yet even as the shock of agony raced up my arm, I called upon God’s divine will and retaliated. He was flung free of me again, this time at such high speed that when he struck the far wall, it was with a series of pops, cracks, and splatters. His body hung there for a moment, dick half erect, still pissing. I stared, mind buzzing, body trembling, breath fast and hard. Then he slid slowly free and fell, dead, to the floor. In his closed jaws dangled most of my forearm. I did not dare look down, I dared not see what I had given up to this failure. So many years of searching, so many years of failure.

3 – Abrasive Lust

A month passed in the temple as I recovered. It took four days for the dire wolf cum to drain from my womb. It took four weeks for my dismemberment to heal. It would take a life time to recover I supposed, but the skin had closed and the pain had faded to a dull phantom ache. It hurt worse when I looked at it, or when I reached for something with my dominant hand only to find it not there.

I was not ready for the next attempt, even the very thought of it brought sweat beading on my skin and sent my heart to racing. The worm in my womb however squirmed any time I even thought of shirking my duty. Every time it squirmed, I fell under it’s sway. My loins swelled with lust, my flesh flushed with pink heat, and my thoughts turned toward the Heralds and the heaven they whispered of at night. It was Pavlovian. Fear came, then I would grow desperately aroused. Fear and lust, tied together in a twisted, unwholesome dance across my heart.

I sat naked upon my bed, mind flooded with depraved thoughts I couldn’t control. I touched myself with my off hand… only hand. My sex had torn upon the dire wolf’s knot, scar tissue lined the inside, now overly sensitive. I felt the worm shift and press against my cervix from within. The lust grew, the tension inside heightened. A cramp followed, a spasm, my hips bucked as pain pulsed. My cervix stretched unnaturally, forced open and the divine spawn slithered free to twine with my playing fingers.

I gave the worm a caress and—blanked out. I forgot fear, forgot discomfort, forgot myself. There was an empty space in my memory, a moment of inaccessible bliss and surrender. I found myself upon my back, bed was soaked, my thighs drenched, entrance throbbing and tingling with the afterglow of sexual bliss. The worm was nestled deep and quiet in my womb. I lay still for a long long while, naked, breathless and gasping. Questions were gone, fears were gone, peace and serenity filled my heart and mind.

The door opened and one of my priests entered. I could not tell which, for he wore the gilded armor of a paladin, gold and silver visor down. “Priestess, they have returned.”

I levered my trembling body up with one arm and sat before him in a shaft of honey tinged sunlight. My sweat slicked skin glistened and the heavenly glow of my ascension shimmered behind it. I was beautiful, powerful, and destined for greatness beyond mortal understanding. His breath caught and the leathers below his belt creaked with his awestruck arousal. I smiled to him encouragingly, yet was unapproachable.

“Have you seen it? This beast they bring?”

“Y-yes Priestess. Taller than a man standing, upon all four, yet longer than a stallion. It is covered in striped white and black fur that looks as soft as down. It moves as swift as wind with the muscles of dragons and the grace of a dancer. It has intense blue eyes and fierce fangs as long as your fore arm...” he caught himself as he said it, and his eyes glanced toward my missing limb.

“Even larger than the Dire Wolf then, and more deadly I suppose.” My words were spoken without bitterness, for purpose filled my thoughts. The more powerful, the more likely it was that the beast would be chosen as the divine avatar.

I rose from my bed and stepped toward the paladin. He stepped back to let me pass, but his eyes were riveted. He knew I would soon be yielding my flesh to the animal, perhaps my life. He knew, yet his lust and desire radiated from him like sunlight. He needed so badly, but denied himself as was right. Our order was chaste, pure, and remained so through force of will. Only God’s will could bend my honor and dignity, only He could bid me to lie with beast… or man.

I reached out and laid my palm over his metal skirt and pressed down. His erection resisted, the leathers creaked below. “Resist temptation brother, for perhaps this day will bring Him forth into our realm.”

“Yes Priestess!” he barked, gasped, then steadied himself. I felt his lust falter and fade, his erection shrank. He mastered himself before my naked beauty and I felt my heart swell with pride.

“Thank you brother, you serve well. Now so must I,” My words sounded reluctant, even fearful, but my loins pulsed with deep seated yearning and terror. Moisture oozed from my depths and ran in a rivulet down my inner thigh, then calf and ankle. Teeth as long as my forearm? I could imagine the feel them as they penetrated the pristine skin of my stomach in search of my vital organs. My depths clenched with an audible squelch, then patter of moisture on the stone floor between my legs. “God prepares me,” I explained truthfully.

“Yes Priestess,” the Paladin agreed woodenly, his eyes upon the floor and the milky puddle I’d made. “You will give Him his vessel, you are molded to the task. His tool shaped for His hand.” The phrase gave me an involuntary shiver of terror and lust. His hand, yes. His hand upon me, wielding me, forging me, forging with me. I descended from my spartan chambers without thought. My emotions boiled and churned within. My skin flushed, my heart raced, my mind stilled and emptied. His tool. Yes.

The outer kennel door opened for me and I stepped within. The door shut behind, bolted. No thoughts touched my mind, but intense fear and even more intense desire swelled. The inner door’s bolts thudded as the lever was thrown. I pushed it open and caught my first glimpse of the exotic monster beyond. My paladins had gone to the ends of the realm, scoured every inch for the most fearsome and powerful of beasts. This one did not disappoint.

He was a tiger of sorts, but not like those known to the southern jungles. A tiger with saber fangs. A tiger larger than a stallion, larger than a bear. A tiger with white fur and black stripes. He prowled back and forth through the kennel with pent up energy ready to burst forth at a moment’s notice. The moment the door opened, he stopped and turned toward me. Muscles bunched, his lips curled back, and he loosed a furious growl that shook my bones and terrified to my core.

There was a sound of water hitting stone, it took me a few seconds to realize that it was me. My bladder drained itself where I stood. Deep within my womb the worm twitched to life, squirmed, and nearly drove me to my knees with sudden and unimaginable lust. I lost control. I fell to my knees. The tiger approached at a full run, then leaped.

I looked up once and realized as those two massive paws came in from either side; I was about to die. The divine being inside of me throbbed. I moaned aloud and opened my arms to the huge creature. A golden halo blew outwards like a puff of smoke and filled the kennel with light. He had chosen at last, my purpose would be fulfilled!

The monstrous form landed atop me and slammed me flat. No claws sought flesh, but he struck with such force that ribs cracked in my back as I hit the floor. His blue eyes had become distant and unfocused and I for a moment thought he simply could not see me. He did, I discovered quickly, see me. His head dipped and pressed against my chest, huge muzzle rolled back and forth, rubbed, scrubbed, and wiped. The sound he made, no longer a growl but a monotonous chuffing that rose and fell. His fur was suffused with the golden halo, bathed in divine light.

His eager nuzzling passed and he seemed to return to some semblance of furious beast. He rose to all fours again and stared down at me with those gold tinged blue eyes. Within me, the worm writhed back and forth and my bare stomach rippled. Above me the beast’s sheath swelled and a pointed pink tip appeared amongst the tangled mat of fine fur. My sex clenched, my mouth watered, my mind blanked. I was nothing but purpose, nothing but a tool. My hand rose of its own volition. My fingers curled into the tangled fur and cupped the monster’s heavy testicles. More of his pink tip slid free as his breath quickened.

He too was under the divine spell, brought to this place for a purpose. He should have torn my throat out or licked the flesh from my bones. Instead, he stood stock still as I caressed him. No animal wanted their genitals touched, no beast would allow it if they had choice. He allowed it. His hips flexed, pressed his head into my palm, and encouraged it.

I rose slowly, though I know not how. No arm to prop myself up, yet I sat under him, head just brushing his stomach. The smell of him was strong and animal. My eyes watered and nose burned. Even the air tasted of him! My mouth watered and my sex burned, even as broken ribs ground and scraped. Agony was ignored, disgust and foulness too; all that mattered was desire and purpose.

My mouth closed on his pink tip. Sour musk coated my taste buds and filled my nose. I buried my face in his groin, inhaled deeply, shuddered with revulsion, and began to suckle. I was reminded of the taste of dire wolf piss, but different, this was far stronger. No coppery smell, nor taste either.

He grew between my lips, his sheath stretched, his head passed between teeth and I met the raspy sharp caress of his barbed flesh beyond. I licked into his sheath and my tongue drew back covered in scratches, bleeding. I licked again, and again, until he was too thick to fit between my lips. I nursed upon his tip as blood ran down my chin. I licked his shaft end to end until the skin was flayed from my tongue and lips.

I only stopped when his hips began to roll in the air and his precum began to drool. Throughout the whole experience he had stood as still as stone, but no longer. I laid back again, bones crunched, agony screamed through me. I opened my legs to my inhuman lover and arched my damaged back. He lowered his haunches and pressed that sharply pointed tip to my entrance.

Within the worm squirmed violently and began to pry at my cervix once more. The golden glow increased, the bright aura bloomed between my thighs. He thrust. My vaginal entrance tore. I did not scream nor resist. My cervix split, a pain so horrible, I thought I was being torn in two. The worm spread it open, ripped my depths, and made an entrance for the animal atop. He sank in, passed between the ragged gash into my uterus. Then he began to mate.

I did scream then, though the noise was confused and broken. Lust and fear, agony and pleasure. I was a battleground of conflicting and uncontrolled emotions. My body however was not my own and my thoughts were as blank as fresh fallen snow. I served and did not suffer. I was traumatically used, but suffered no trauma. Every thrust battered at my inner organs and knocked the wind from my lungs. Every withdrawal was lined with barbs that tore like saw teeth and fish hooks. Skin was scratched, abraded, gouged, and torn. Blood sprayed from between my legs, a fine mist flicked from his barbs as they raked free. Blood mixed with lust. My hips rose again and again to meet him, and fell to drag him free.

Skin was sanded away within a minute. My passage was flayed alive. Every nerve ending screamed while muscles began to tear as they clenched upon him. Another minute passed and I climaxed. It was a violent, unwholesome explosion, not entirely pleasure, nor entirely pain. Over-stimulation pushed beyond into something terrifying and mind shattering. I began to think again, bit by bit. My glow faded. My bestial mate grew in passion and desperation.

Another minute passed as I was cored out and hollowed. I could no longer feel the worm within me, only the massive spire of the beast’s erection. The glow faded away entirely and I was left alone in my heart and mind. So long had the divine gift dwelt within, years keeping me alive, healthy, and eager for purpose. And now, now my purpose had been fulfilled. I looked up into my lover’s eyes, as gold as the sun now, and felt the heat of that gaze as it looked back.

My mind stopped as he stared back. I surrendered to a hunger beyond reason. Not my own hunger for him, but his for—me. My broken back arched again, my hips rose one last time, he sheathed himself inside of me, a sword in hilt. Against my rump his scrotum retracted, twitched, and the animal began to release. I felt his hot seed pool within. My sheath was nothing more than a wound, and where it touched, it burned like fire. Two more pumps to drag his ejaculate through my flesh, then he withdrew with a rasp and spray of mingled fluids.

I fell limp to the floor. His eyes looked away and my mind recoiled like a spring that had been held taut. I recoiled from what I had done. Free, I was free of his grasp for the first time in decades. The lust faded, the purpose that had once been so crystal clear was gone. I could feel the veil strain as the beast strode forward, through the door of the kennel. The veil tore at last, and for good. The golden glow blasted from him and struck the walls of the temple like a sledge hammer. Cracked stone rained down as the barricaded doorway buckled.

The Paladin beyond fell to his knees as the golden figure of our God’s avatar was revealed. Saber toothed jaws opened, then closed over the paladin’s bowed head, then with a crunch of bone he crumpled, decapitated. The glow brightened, the gold and silver armor darkened and tarnished. The corpse within crumbled to dust even before the wet blood struck the ground.

God’s head turned toward me, his eyes shone like a beacon lamp. When the light touched me I was again entrapped, all thought stopped, all fear pain and discomfort became a distant second before God’s desire. A woman, he needed a woman. Not I, I was sullied beyond use and purpose. He needed someone pure and innocent. Someone… Someone to bare his first spawn. He looked away, my mind was freed. Spawn? What did a God need for spawn? Why call them spawn?

Another crunch sounded from down the hall outside the kennel as my mind stumbled. The glow brightened further, wood smoked in the doorway where the light touched. The veil tore further and I felt the familiar touch of a Herald upon my shattered ribs. It was a gentle touch, an intimate caress. I felt the fire of purpose again spark in my breast. “Yes,” I said aloud, “God must have his vessel.”

4 – Profane Service

Shrouded in a cloak I stole through the night. Behind me were screams and shouts as the flames began to lick the sky. Bundled in her blanket the unconscious princess lay across my lap as I rode away. They did not yet know, perhaps never would know if the flames did their job. She was beautiful, pampered, bathed in milk and honey daily. No vessel could be considered more pure and innocent than the spoiled brat of a king.

I had to be fast, for her moon blood would soon be upon her again. I had timed it well, but nothing ever went entirely to plan. If we had to wait another month God would be displeased with me and that was one thing I could not allow. So I rode as hard as I dared, my horse stumbling and tripping across the broken road.

Night dragged on toward morning as I climbed the mountain path. Behind, the fires of the castle faded into a smudge of smoke. The brat began to stir as I came around the final bend before the temple. She began start to struggle the moment she woke, and I gripped her as tight as I dared, for I did not dare sully her in any way. Not even a bruise would be allowed. She screamed, I ignored her. The gates opened at our approach.

The princess was dragged from the saddle the moment I stopped and held restrained upon the dusty courtyard. A paladin helped me down as well, and I leaned upon him, my legs barely capable of supporting my own weight. “Tell Him...” I began.

Golden light enveloped us. He knew. He was there already. I looked up into that brilliant gaze and felt the searing heat scour away my fatigue, fears, and failures. I belonged. I was home. I had done well. My clothes smoldered, the stubble atop my head wafted away as soot, but my skin felt no heat beyond his kind regard. God stepped forth from the temple. Sharp beams of radiance cast between the pillars and ignited tufts of dry grass and trees. Between his hind legs, his monstrous phallus hung. The barbs had grown thick and metallic, more like golden fish hooks than the rasping abrasive they had once been. From his urethra poured a continuous trickle of golden seed. Where it struck, the stone blackened and dust sizzled.

I turned slowly toward the princess. The blankets had caught fire already and fell away with a spray of ash and sparks. Yet she was untouched by his heavenly fire, still beautiful, unmarred, with not even a smear of soot or dust upon her pristine form. Two paladins in their shimmering armor held her fast. Her eyes were open, wide, and terrified. He was not in her mind, not controlling her actions.

“Place her upon the altar,” I ordered. She rebelled again, but weakly as her eyes stared fixed upon God’s visage. “It is an honor. You who will serve as vessel for God’s divine… spawn.” I yet had difficulty speaking that word. “Do not fight, do not struggle, you will serve and be rewarded.” She did not heed my words as she was dragged bodily backwards atop the blackened stone. So many others had been held there, so many failures. It was worse now, worse than my own failure to find a beast for God’s essence. Would she too be devoured by divine fire?

I shook my head at the thought as I took a kicking leg in my one hand and pinned it to the side of the altar. Another Paladin caught the other, and the four of us held her in place. She screamed and bucked, but was no burden. God approached, stepped forward over the altar, and let his heaven blessed phallus rest upon the cold stone. His ever flowing font drooled forth a puddle upon it between her thighs, stone popped and cracked under the heat. She was wild, with base animal panic and I could not blame her. Why did God not simply ease her as he had done everyone else?

His spire twitched, shining barbs flexed upward, a stream of molten gold jetted free and bathed the Princess’ bare naked mound. Flesh blackened, my heart fell, then rose again as she did not char. She screamed out agony as muscles bunched and tore at themselves, but flesh did not sizzle nor flames take hold. Another jet erupted and sprayed from groin to breast. Where it touched and clung, her skin turned black as coal, black as night, but did not die.

I marveled at the mystery of it. She did not burn, she did not die. It was her at last! The one God needed. I began to chant, a chant of power and joy. The others joined me, only us four at first, but soon it was taken up by the entire temple. Our chant rose and fell together, then switched to concentric circle patterns, one phrase off from the next. First one ring, then another, and another. The tattered veil shook with the force of it. God flared with light. The altar began to glow a deep red, like iron in a forge or a coal in a stove. The princess began to weaken as the darkness seeped across her skin.

“From light comes darkness, from darkness comes light,” I chanted in the holy tongue, “The broken reknit, the hale be holed.” Her hips began to rise and fall involuntarily as she was bathed in his lust. He did not penetrate, did not rape, he only spilled his seed between her thighs and anointed her. Where his lust touched, her color faded to ash, then black, then spread like ink in fabric.

Her thrashing grew more and more intense, but no longer from terror. Her vaginal passage gaped, swollen and desperate, hymen taut and exposed. She felt a need that I had known all too well, that I had surrendered to over and over again. I longed to be in her place, but knew the truth, that my body would combust just as readily as all the others. I could not contain his vitality. It made me jealous.

The men let go of her, though I stayed at her side, my hand upon her trembling ankle. I had to bare witness. His haunches dipped, his pointed member slipped forward, and nestled gently between her gaped folds. I watched with longing as her hymen blackened, then tore. His phallus pulsed and this time his lust struck her womb. She climaxed, her body taut as a wire. Steam poured from between her legs, lust sizzled and popped within her, but his brilliant golden semen took root.

Before my very eyes her stomach swelled. She moaned and clutched at it, even as her hips shook with pleasure. Fingers curled to claws, she raked at her tight skin. Further and further she grew, then even faster as his second release emptied into her, then a third. Tight as a drum, her stomach jutted upward. Then skin split, first below her navel, then just above. Blue-black blood welled free and drooled down upon the altar.

A final release, and the golden light went out, all of it. The Tiger’s form crumbled to ash and blew away upon the wind. I stood for a moment in stunned silence. The morning sunlight shined down, a pale imitation of the holy brilliance. Around us the temple, and forest beyond was ablaze. Men were screaming, someone was moaning behind me. Before me, the black skinned princess writhed and thrashed, then screamed aloud. Her hips bucked twice, then cracked as something forced it’s way out, between her folds. Her eyes found mine, full of silent pleading. There was another crack between her legs, and they separated disturbingly. A black furred head bathed in blue-black blood with brilliant crimson stripes, tiger strips. The child crawled from her ruined body and stood upon all fours, drenched in dark blood, pale yellow semen, and the last remnants of red blood.

He stretched, yawned, grew visibly, then opened his eyes for the first time. Blood red eyes met mine. I felt myself tremble with the shock of it and reached forth toward the rapidly growing form. Behind him the princess thrashed as another feline monster clawed it’s way from her body, and another, and another… I did not keep count, did not pay it any mind, for my world had shifted. Before me, in the gaze of that beautiful child, I found purpose again.

I dropped to my knees and took the form into the crook of my good arm, then began to lick his fur. Blood and semen, filth and dirt. I cleaned him, cradled him, and drew his muzzle to my breast. He closed his lips upon my nipple, then bit. My red blood poured freely into his nursing maw and my heart ached with love. I was his, I belonged to him, my purpose was his. I would feed him, bathe him, love him, and bare him children. I knew that from the first moment he gazed upon me. My heaven had arrived.

Once more I rose to my feet as he drank from my life. I turned from the still birthing princess and walked toward the temple entrance. The light gone, the flames had begun to die, though support beams still smoldered. Upon the steps a Priestess was upon her hands and knees, the twisted form of a paladin raped her. His armor had blackened and crumbled, his flesh too. Within I felt the presence of a Herald, hungry for the pleasures of woman, eager to put spawn into her pool.

The rent veil held more of them, eager heralds… no, eager demons. They were poised, ready to latch into the flesh of mortal men and become them. Ready to rape the realm end to end until it too was a writhing putrid mass of black death. I remembered the sacrifice, her guts opened, the other realm spilled through. My sex clenched and mouth parted with desire. Red eyes watched, red eyes commanded, red eyes tore my soul asunder and gave me purpose in its place. I kissed the top of my beloved’s head and knelt again. He was nearly as tall as I when he stood up, large enough I supposed. I dropped to hands and knees, arched my pained back, and spread my legs.

His tongue, rough and hot, slipped inside my nethers and caressed the knotted scar tissue within. I would serve his purpose, damaged or not. With a lusty chuff, he stepped forward and pressed his groin against mine. Barbed flesh dragged over tattered folds. The pointed tip met eager vagina. He thrust. I surrendered. My mind dissolved as his purpose was sheathed inside. I was reminded of his father, that rasping penetration. Then when he withdrew, I screamed in agony as old wounds were reopened. Others were screaming too, wet sounds, sloshing, moaning. I moaned. His spire spat. I swelled, swelled, swelled. He spat again, I cried for joy. His spawn squirmed within my body, writhed and fought with one another. He spat again and again.

I felt only pain and contentment. There was no pleasure in his mating, no kindness. I was a thing, I had a purpose, I served with love and suffering. I swelled with life, life that grew so fast, so strong, that the skin over my stomach split. He continued to thrust, continued to unload into me, even as the first spawn began to claw it’s way from my body, around his thrusting spire.

I served. Even as I bled upon the stone, even as a dozen children clawed through my flesh and tried to escape: I served. Even as they sank teeth into me and drank of my blood: I served. Even as my mind drifted into confused and broken oblivion: I served. I served and served and served until at last: I stopped.

5 – Prologue

The demon looked upon the broken corpse at his feet, unfeeling. The rest of the woman were beginning to fail as well, but she had been first. He glanced from shuddering, bloated body to twisted, grotesque form. None would serve for long, if at all. Hundreds of his own spawn had already been born that day, they fought and played with one another, but would soon seek their own women to breed.

The power in this place was failing, drained by the rapid growth and sundering of the veil. They would have to move on soon or turn on one another out of hunger. He turned to one of the possessed and spilled his thoughts across the void into the other’s mind. A puppet on a string, the possessed mind obeyed, the possessor understood. He pulled his distorted flesh from the woman’s throat and dropped her. Piss and black cum ran from her lips as she heaved, the individual sperm squirmed about her face like ants, seeking a way back into their nest. Her stomach churned with life, but soon stilled as the essence began to fall. The two legged demon threw back his head and howled.

More howls met it, heads rose, eyes turned as one. Not far from there they could feel a mass of life, full of pain and terror. As one, the two legged demons climbed upon the backs of the tiger-demons and took off down the mountain, toward the castle and city below. His loins ached, his scrotum swelled, his barbed penis remained erect and drooling an endless flow of black seed. He would find another woman and keep her for himself. Days at least, months were probable, forever if he could. He would flood the world with his spawn.

End

03/21/2020

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