The tendrils are everywhere, everywhere, floating and stroking and cascading over their body as soon as it's bared, not an inch of their naked skin left untouched. Kurt shivers and cries, still fighting their bonds, still arching on the altar—although if they're arching away from or into the snaking tendrils is becoming harder and harder to tell. It's a sensation near impossible to describe, hot and molten and slick, spreading through them in seductive waves.
And the fingers, the fingers, playing with their slippery folds, spreading them apart, pressing inside them to find their body aflame with desire, slick and squeezing around every thick knuckle. Kurt barely dares to open their eyes, looking up at the being playing with them, unsure if it's dread or wanting that floods their senses in that moment. They've never felt anything like this.
"K-K-Kurt," they shakily manage, their own name melting into a loud moan that makes the worshipers murmur with approval. Their hips twitch, bucking hard against the deity's hand, feeling his fingers filling them up while the tendrils continue stroking their cock. This pleasure is impossible. Kurt can't possibly survive this. "P-Please— I beg you, Lord, pleeease—!"
"Oh, sweet child, delicious little mortal..." Corrigan chuckles fondly, his tendrils lovingly caressing his offering's shivering young body. Two have focused their tips onto the pert, pink buds of the youth's nipples, stroking and teasing to make their whole body shudder with helpless pleasure.
Another coiled around the slender column of their neck, squeezing just enough that their eyes rolled back, breath coming shaky and raspy. He knew, of course, all the best ways to make an innocent mortal wild with bliss, to manipulate their wonderfully responsive bodies into begging for more. They were always so scandalized, so shocked at their own depravity. Had they really moaned at pain or restraint, had they truly thrilled at being so manhandled? Corrigan was certain Kurt would be like that, so mortified at how a gripping touch on their throat dizzied then with pleasure.
That is, if he allowed them a spare moment to catch their breath and think straight.
"Corrigan, my lovely little pet. When you plead for my touch, beg me to fill you up, call me by my name." A wave of his hand, and the god -- the demon -- stood proud and unclothed, his clothes disappearing like smoke, revealing his thick, inhuman cock. It was textured oddly, ripples and contours along its gleaming length, the spadelike head dripping thick, slick silvery fluid. "But when I am inside you, when I fuck you, Kurt, call me Master."
Predictably, Kurt is just as scandalized as every other mortal at their own depravity. As the tendril around their throat tightened and squeezed, they had moaned despite the pain, despite the threat of mortal danger as their breath was stolen, not reaching their desperately heaving lungs. Had they really moaned? Did they like this? They couldn't possibly. Even for a virgin, they know lovemaking isn't supposed to be like this.
But the pleasure coursing through them is impossible to deny. As he continues fingering them, stroking their cock, playing with their sensitive nipples, Kurt shudders helplessly with ecstasy, pale freckled skin warming and reddening with shame and pleasure both, no longer able to stop their hips from meeting his hand.
In fact, as the being—the creature, the demon, Corrigan, his name is Corrigan—disrobes before them, revealing his enormous cock for all to see, their cunt flutters hard with inexplicable hunger around his fingers. Kurt yearns to feel it entering them, stirring up their insides, heightening their pleasure before the worshipers' watchful eyes. He utters his command, his order, and Kurt knows without doubt that they will follow his word to the letter. "Y-Yes, yes, Lord— C-Corrigan, Corrigan, please, Corrigan! I b-beg you, Corrigan, please, fill me up, I— I need you inside, inside, Corrigan, please—!"
It was always amusing to the god how swiftly mortals -- especially virginal ones -- succumbed to his charms. No matter how staunch their beliefs, all it took where some clever, practiced movements of his hands or mouth and they were begging for him. Just like Kurt was, shameless and heedless of the audience watching each erotic moment with eager worship.
"Very good," Corrigan purrs, several of his tendrils of shadow curling around the cords that had bound Kurt to the altar, destroying them in a flash of spiced scented smoke. The dark appendages replace the ropes immediately, of course, curling around the young mortal's wrists and binding them together. More tentacles slide up Kurt's legs, bending them at the knee and spreading them wide. Corrigan’s warm, bare body emanates heat as he settles between the spread, freckled thighs.
"Do you want my cock, little mortal?" He coos the words, sliding his fingers free of Kurt's soaked, dripping cunt, then guiding his cock to glide through the flushed, sensitive folds. "Do you want me to fuck you? Say it like that, those filthy words with your pretty mouth. Beg me to fuck you."
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Date: 2022-12-27 07:39 pm (UTC)And the fingers, the fingers, playing with their slippery folds, spreading them apart, pressing inside them to find their body aflame with desire, slick and squeezing around every thick knuckle. Kurt barely dares to open their eyes, looking up at the being playing with them, unsure if it's dread or wanting that floods their senses in that moment. They've never felt anything like this.
"K-K-Kurt," they shakily manage, their own name melting into a loud moan that makes the worshipers murmur with approval. Their hips twitch, bucking hard against the deity's hand, feeling his fingers filling them up while the tendrils continue stroking their cock. This pleasure is impossible. Kurt can't possibly survive this. "P-Please— I beg you, Lord, pleeease—!"
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Date: 2022-12-31 05:01 am (UTC)Another coiled around the slender column of their neck, squeezing just enough that their eyes rolled back, breath coming shaky and raspy. He knew, of course, all the best ways to make an innocent mortal wild with bliss, to manipulate their wonderfully responsive bodies into begging for more. They were always so scandalized, so shocked at their own depravity. Had they really moaned at pain or restraint, had they truly thrilled at being so manhandled? Corrigan was certain Kurt would be like that, so mortified at how a gripping touch on their throat dizzied then with pleasure.
That is, if he allowed them a spare moment to catch their breath and think straight.
"Corrigan, my lovely little pet. When you plead for my touch, beg me to fill you up, call me by my name." A wave of his hand, and the god -- the demon -- stood proud and unclothed, his clothes disappearing like smoke, revealing his thick, inhuman cock. It was textured oddly, ripples and contours along its gleaming length, the spadelike head dripping thick, slick silvery fluid. "But when I am inside you, when I fuck you, Kurt, call me Master."
no subject
Date: 2022-12-31 09:13 pm (UTC)But the pleasure coursing through them is impossible to deny. As he continues fingering them, stroking their cock, playing with their sensitive nipples, Kurt shudders helplessly with ecstasy, pale freckled skin warming and reddening with shame and pleasure both, no longer able to stop their hips from meeting his hand.
In fact, as the being—the creature, the demon, Corrigan, his name is Corrigan—disrobes before them, revealing his enormous cock for all to see, their cunt flutters hard with inexplicable hunger around his fingers. Kurt yearns to feel it entering them, stirring up their insides, heightening their pleasure before the worshipers' watchful eyes. He utters his command, his order, and Kurt knows without doubt that they will follow his word to the letter. "Y-Yes, yes, Lord— C-Corrigan, Corrigan, please, Corrigan! I b-beg you, Corrigan, please, fill me up, I— I need you inside, inside, Corrigan, please—!"
no subject
Date: 2023-01-02 07:36 am (UTC)"Very good," Corrigan purrs, several of his tendrils of shadow curling around the cords that had bound Kurt to the altar, destroying them in a flash of spiced scented smoke. The dark appendages replace the ropes immediately, of course, curling around the young mortal's wrists and binding them together. More tentacles slide up Kurt's legs, bending them at the knee and spreading them wide. Corrigan’s warm, bare body emanates heat as he settles between the spread, freckled thighs.
"Do you want my cock, little mortal?" He coos the words, sliding his fingers free of Kurt's soaked, dripping cunt, then guiding his cock to glide through the flushed, sensitive folds. "Do you want me to fuck you? Say it like that, those filthy words with your pretty mouth. Beg me to fuck you."