Ja'rek saw the boy's eyes dart back and forth, his body stiffen. It was instinct Ja'rek knew, to escape, to run. All the boys did it at this moment. But then he heard the massive door close as the attendants left him at the ancient heart of the temple and he swallowed hard, straightening his spine. He had a beautiful face, as they always did,
and the fine cloak that covered him from throat to ankles hinted at the muscled body beneath. He was the finest and most beautiful of youths, chosen for this honor. Given to the god.
Ja'rek had been given to the god at eighteen, the same age as this boy. But not for the same honor. He was given to serve in the ancient temple. And he had learned the ancient language and the chants. For seven years he had learned the ways of the body and grown in strength. And then in a ritual orgy among the young priests the god had seized hold of Ja'rek. Its power had leapt from the roots of his manhood and howled hungry through his body. Ja'rek was the only one to leave the room of the orgy. And he left covered in blood.
Since that night three years ago, Ja'rek had been the chief priest of the god, in spite of his youth. He served in this most ancient room, with the worn altar stone that had fallen long ago from the sky. He stood now beside the life-sized statue of the god, the ancient horn of a bull serving as an erect phallus between its muscled stone thighs. Ja'rek's heart grew cold at what was to come. He had pleaded as a boy to be dedicated to service of the gods. He was mild and soft and did not want the violence of serving in the army as his father had. He had had no idea what the god would demand of him. He did not understand this wildness in his belly. But the moment it first took him, he knew it would be the most exquisite pleasure he would ever know.
The boy's eyes found his. Ja'rek smiled as he felt the god begin to awaken. He took the diadem of red woolen bands from the hand of the statue and tied it around his own head. He stepped to the boy and unpinned the cloak that had hidden his nakedness on the walk to the temple and let it drop to the floor. The boy looked away in embarrassment, but the god in Ja'rek looked his gift up and down, drinking in the smooth, glowing skin, the sculpted chest, the perfect butt. He inhaled the scents, the slight musk of the boy's sweat mixed with the sweet herbs of the bath that had cleansed and prepared him. The boy's manhood hung long and thick.
Ja'rek took a flask of sacred ointment and began to rub it into the boy's skin. He felt the slight tingle on his own palm of the secret herbs that it contained. They would increase the feelings of pleasure from touch. It would help to override the fear that would inevitably be there at the back of the boy's throat. Ja'rek stepped back and admired the way the boy's skin glistened gold in the firelight as the oil sank in. The boy's eyes closed and lips parted. He stretched his chest as a wave of pleasure flowed over him. Ja'rek ran one finger from the boy's throat down the smooth line between his pecs, his abs, until he held it against the boy's belly, just above where a small bush of hair began. The boy moaned and shuddered in pleasure. A massive drum began to throb, echoing through the temple as in the main room the chants began. For Ja'rek and the boy it was like the room was a throbbing heart. Ja'rek put his hand behind the boy's neck and pulled his lips close, his tongue exploring the sweetness of the boy's mouth while his other hand moved to grasp the lengthening, thickening cock. He ran his thumb over the boy's throat and Adam's apple. And the power leapt up into his chest from the roots of his cock and his hand wanted to squeeze and crush the vulnerable throat. But he resisted, and instead bit the lower lip, tasting the rich, salty iron of the boy's blood. The seed and the blood. That is what fed the god. That is what fed the thing deep within Ja'rek.
He kissed the boy harder, grinding their bodies together, biting harder and drinking the blood. The boy made no cries, just moans of pleasure as he wrapped his arms around Ja'rek's hard muscles. Like the statue of the god Ja'rek was naked except for the leather bands crossed over his chest and the leather belt around his waist. Ja'rek moved around and grasped the boy from behind, rubbing his throbbing cock against the crack of the boy's butt, biting the neck and licking the blood as a growl came from deep in his throat. The boy's chest was heaving and his body writhing with the waves of pleasure that swept over and over him. Ja'rek moved him toward the ancient stone. For just a moment he felt the boy stiffen and resist as he realized what it was. But then he stepped out of Ja'rek's embrace and walked to the stone, lying on his back on it. There was much strength in this one. Much for the god to drink in.
The ropes were already there in the iron rings set in the stone's corners. Ja'rek tied the boy's wrists, but left the legs free. He knelt on the stone between them and pulled them up over his shoulders. He took his own massive cock and plunged it in one stroke into the boy's hole. The boy gasped and tears ran from his wide eyes. He leaned in, pounding the boy's butt as the god in his belly growled. This is only the beginning of your pain, he thought. He grasped the boy's nipples and the boy moaned in pleasure, then he twisted hard and the boy grunted through clenched teeth. Ja'rek was too close to cumming and it was not yet his time and so he pulled out of the boy. He tied the boy's ankles tightly in place. There was blood on his cock and Ja'rek took it on his hand and put his fingers into the boy's mouth. He let the boy taste his own blood as he took the boy's cock in his other hand and began to stroke. It was time to bring forth the boy's seed and it was not long before the boy was bucking and moaning, his face and chest glistening with new sweat. He felt the boy's balls tighten and the cock spasm as the boy's seed sprayed his belly and chest. The boy fell back against the altar stone, his chest heaving as Ja'rek gently stroked the last beads of cum out of his cock and ran his fingers over the boy's chest and nipples. He leaned over and licked the seed off of the boy, his cock, his belly, his chest. The boy moaned. He gave a gentle kiss and gazed into the boy's eyes. For just a moment he wondered what it would be like to go to sleep every night looking at this body, to wake up every morning and see the sun in those eyes. The room and the drum throbbed faster.
He rose and walked to the god's statue and took the ancient carved bull's horn from between the god's legs. He took the sharpened horn and, as the god howled inside him, he plunged its sharpened tip deep into the boy's hole, twisting and thrusting as the boy's body bucked and his scream echoed off the walls. He took the horn out and used its bloody tip to tear open the boy's heavy ball sack as his body arched in pain and he shrieked. He took the bloody balls and crushed them between his teeth savoring the taste of blood and meat. The boy's beautiful face was a mask of pain as he watched in horror. Then Ja'rek used the horn and his own strength to rip off the boy's cock. He thrust the cock onto the horn like a skewer, the boy's cock on the god's cock, and thrust it into the boy's mouth. The madness of the god was complete in Ja'rek as he left the cock in the boy's mouth and took the horn and held it high over the boy's heaving chest. Muffled moans came from the boy. His eyes watched the carved horn in terror and resignation. Ja'rek plunged the horn into the boy's belly, into his chest, again and again twisting and ripping and breaking and tearing. He plunged his hands into the cavity, tearing heart and lungs and liver out and flinging them around the ancient room. He thrust his face into the bloody broken torso, chewing and biting and drinking.
The boy was strong. The body shuddered and twitched with life for a long time. The god was strong in Ja'rek. He feasted on the pain and the terror and the seed and the blood as his own body shuddered in pleasure, spilling its seed at last into the ruined boy.
The drum was long silent when the god left Ja'rek. He lay panting on the floor, his body coated with blood and bits of flesh and skin. He stood and removed the bloody woolen bands from his head and gave them back to the statue of the god. He retrieved the ancient horn from where it had lodged, deep up under the boy's broken ribs, and replaced it between the statue's stone thighs. Blood dripped and puddled at its feet.
There was nothing beautiful left in what lay on the altar stone. Only the face showed a hint of what had been. But it was frozen in pain, tears of agony streaked the blood that caked it. The eyes were wide in terror, and empty. The god had made the boy die hard, ripping every last bit of strength and bravery from him in horrible pain. Ja'rek's only consoling thought was that the boy had volunteered for the honor, although he had never known what that honor would cost. He left the bloody mess behind for those whose job was the ritual cleansing after he had given the god its offering. Deep within his belly the wildness of the god slept, its howling emptiness sated for now.