Playthings of the Gods

Chapter 3: Trial again - Obsidian

A weary, defeated man in a grey robe limped into the temple of the gods. Six days had passed since he fled the halls in disgust. Now he was exhausted, famished and harboured a hunger far deeper than a lust for food. He must have the power of the gods regardless of his shame.

Keron greeted Marcus the second time as formally as the first. Without comment or judgement the guardian ushered Marcus to the sanctuary of his former room. Two exquisitely carved statues of Great Danes ignored him as he passed. Fresh bread, meats and wine covered the table and Marcus pounced on the food. He hadn’t eaten properly in almost a week. So he devoured every morsel, washing it down with copious sweet wine. He threw off his soiled robe and collapsed, still muddy and dishevelled on the bed. For the first night in a week he slept deeply, dreamlessly, at peace.

In the morning clean robes were folded neatly on the chair. Marcus rose from the bed refreshed and, he discovered to his bemusement, clean and groomed. The gods, it seemed, had tended him while he slept.

Keron summoned him to the main chamber. The white Great Dane bitch sat the left dais and the black on the right, exactly the same as the first time he was in the temple.

“The trials of the gods must be completed in order in the correct timeframe. To deviate from the will of the gods is to abandon their favour.” Keron punctuated his words, tapping his wooden staff on the stones. “You must start the trials anew. Your first trial is to pleasure the dogs with your tongue.”

As the alabaster bitch rose and trotted toward him Marcus asked, “Do they have names? The dogs?”

“Yes,” said Keron, “However you are unworthy to speak their names.”

“Ah.” Marcus knelt as the bitch turned away from him. This trial hadn’t been so bad, really. And now he was familiar with the divine anatomy. Almost with enthusiasm Marcus set about pleasuring the bitch with his tongue. As she humped her vulva against his face Marcus savoured the heady warmth of her smell. So very much like the smell and taste of a woman mixed with the wildness of nature. He suckled on her clitoris and rubbed the mounds of nipples along her belly. He teased her, lightly caressing the pillows of her vulva with his lips, drawing out her pleasure. Then he mashed his tongue against her clitoris, pushing deeply into her. When the volley of clenches around his tongue signalled her orgasm Marcus felt the thrum of eldritch fire in his veins. But more than that he felt accomplished, as though he’d pleasured a human woman. The front of his robe tented with arousal.

In a blur of white tempest the Great Dane bitch leaped away. She circled on the spot, grabbing at her tail. Then she pounced down onto her forepaws, woofing at the man. Marcus watched, bemused as she trotted away with her tail held high and vanished into the deeper temple.

“You greatly pleased her,” said Keron, “Well done – you’ve earned your first reward.”

With a flick of his fingers Marcus summoned a flame. The eldritch light felt so natural, so right. Yes, he needed more of this. He retired to his accommodation to freshen up and revel in his re-acquired gift. Each flame, each manipulation of power gave him a small burst of pleasure.

All too soon a tapping on his door summoned Marcus back to the large hall. Keron led him past the imposing stone columns toward the dais. As before the black Great Dane dog was a daunting figure of masculinity. The dog stared implacably down at Marcus as he knelt on the hard stone. Marcus’ gaze involuntarily drew to the bobbing tube of flesh beneath the dog’s belly. He was going to have to put that in his mouth.

As the dog rose to approach him, Marcus noticed the dog’s scrotum. A sack of flesh hung at least a hand’s length beneath the dog’s groin. Two orbs the size of plums stretched the flesh to polished black. Marcus gasped – the dogs balls were twice the size of his own. How big would its cock be? The beast easily outweighed Marcus, yet carried itself with grace and poise. The musculature rippled with barely suppressed passion.

Once again the dog stood side-on to Marcus. That black tube of flesh consumed the man’s vision, filling his sight. He would have to touch it, he would have to suck on it! Marcus’ mouth was dry, and he quietly whimpered. To take another male’s flesh into his mouth was abhorrent and unthinkable. Would this break him? Would drinking the seed poison his soul? Would he no longer be the man he was?

“Because you’re an idiot you must do exactly what I tell you,” Keron’s voice from behind gave Marcus an anchor to normalcy. “Do not deviate the tiniest bit from what I say or you may cause the dog pain. You really don’t want to anger a god.”

Marcus nodded. Perhaps if he did as the guardian said the ordeal would be over quickly. No-one else would ever need to know he’d acted like a common whore. And to a beast, even though it was a deity. No, he would endure, he would do his absolute best to please the god (even at the expense of his own manliness). He would do exactly as the guardian instructed and when it was over he would be more powerful. He could get through this. He knelt low at the beast’s side, face level with the dog’s penis. Motes of darkness threatened the edges of his vision and he felt nauseous and humiliated. He had to brace against the monster’s flank to avoid collapsing.

The furred sheath bobbed in front of him. A droplet of yellowish fluid dripped to the floor. Marcus whimpered.

“To get the dog’s seed you first need to arouse him fully. You will be gentle, considerate, you will treat him as though he has the power to rip your soul out through your eyes if you screw this up. My advice is to consider how what you’re doing feels to him – how if you were him it would feel to you.” Keron’s voice droned but the advice was sound; act like one of the whores who have pleasured Marcus and do what he would want them to do to him.

By following exactly the instructions of the guardian Marcus wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. Like learning complicated dance steps, doing as the guardian ordered would mean it wasn’t Marcus’ fault that he was sucking off a beast. He was merely being the automaton following the will of a god as intoned by the man in the white robe.

“Caress his thighs as though you’re seducing a lover. Gently stroke over his scrotum – feel the heft of his balls, understand where his divine seed originates.” Keron spoke dispassionately while describing the most intimate and perverse actions Marcus could image.

But the explorer complied exactly, willing himself to treat the black monster with the tenderness of a suitor. Caressing the dogs scrotum felt like the finest, softest velvet purse and looked like pure ebony polished to a sheen. Some of Marcus’ despair at being labelled queer ebbed away in his fascination at the perverse beauty of the focus of the canine malehood. The testes were heavy and firm, eager to release their load.

“Stroke his sheath – feel the hardness through his skin? That is a penis bone. It keeps him firm even when he’s not aroused. Gently, gently , pull his sheath back – see the pink shaft as thin as your finger? That’s his penis proper. Do not touch the pink flesh with your hand.” Keron warned.

It was so alien to Marcus. A bright pink finger of flesh was revealed as the dog’s black sheath withdrew. The hardness of the penis bone was apparent in the way the shaft remained rigid even as a handspan was exposed. Fluid, translucent and yellowish, wetted the flesh. As he watched, a few drops of clear liquid leaked from a small opening at the tip of the rod. Part of his mind screamed about being queer, about touching another male where only women should touch. But his resolution to achieve godly energies quelled the voices howling disgust at his actions.

“Allow the dog’s sheath to return to rest, covering the shaft. Listen to my words carefully,” intoned Keron in a more serious tone, “Near the base of the dog’s sheath you will firmly grab with your fist – squeeze hard like you’re holding the rope of an errant filly. At the same time put your lips over the end of his shaft, ready to take his meat. Do not let your teeth touch his flesh! Your hand and mouth will feel to the dog as though he has just penetrated the most exquisite bitch pussy. Immediately the dog will hump his hips forward to drive his meat deeper. Watch out for choking on his cock, and watch out for being punched in the face by his thighs. To complete the trial you are required to swallow every drop of divine essence”

Marcus whimpered. This was the irrevocable moment where he would be forever sullied by another male. To do this thing would sunder his masculinity. Never again would he be free of the knowledge he had taken another male into his mouth and swallowed another male’s seed. Perhaps this was where his very humanity would be stolen by the god.

And yet… and yet an echo in his veins remembered the taste of eldritch fire. And yet the promise of more fire beckoned. Marcus steadied his resolve. He drew a deep breath to steel his nerves. A powerful smell of dog, of strength, of raw masculinity filled his nose. Moreso than the bitch’s , the dog’s scent was wild, earthy, hot with desire. In the presence of barely contained masculinity Marcus seemed to be a frail waif. He closed his eyes as he dipped his head forward to press his lips around the black tube of flesh and grasped firmly at the base of the dog’s sheath.

Despite the guardian’s warning Marcus was unprepared for the violent thrust of the beast’s hips. The dog’s thighs impacted Marcus’ wrist, slamming his own fist into his nose. The force unbalanced Marcus who fell backward onto the cold flagstones. Despite no longer grasping its sheath, the dog continued to hump at the air for a few moments. A thin jet of clear fluid arced from the exposed tip of the shaft and splashed onto Marcus’ chin.

Keron looked down at the fallen man with disappointment, “It is fortunate those emissions merely presage the true essence to follow, else you would have failed your trial. Do you truly desire the boon of gods or would you leave the temple now?”

Marcus rubbed at his bruised nose. A metallic taste filled his mouth. Perhaps he should leave the temple. Maybe the fragile remnant of his broken masculinity was more important to him than the unbridled power of the gods. No… no he was stronger than this. He’d merely been taken by surprise at the violent reaction of the beast. Soon the metallic taste in his mouth would be replaced by the real feast of divine energies. Wordlessly he gathered himself to his knees beside the dark beast and leaned beneath. Again he sealed his lips around the black flesh while squeezing his fist around the base of the sheath. He angled his grasp to come from beneath, rather than beside the dog. And he braced his other hand on the dog’s thigh. So when the beast hunched urgently forward Marcus was prepared.

Even so Marcus almost choked on the rigid bone stabbing forward into his throat. Braced as he was he could move his head better to synchronize to the powerful thrusts. He didn’t need to move his fist grasping the dog’s penis – the beast humped a rhythm that drove his shaft through the grasped sheath. Marcus felt he was surrounded by a tempest, violent and powerful, while he struggled retain control. He barely registered hot liquid bursting in jets into his mouth, unconsciously gulping it down while he fought to keep his teeth clear of the sensitive flesh thrusting into his face.

“Very good… very good. You’re getting the hang of it,” Keron encouraged, “You should feel his cock thickening, growing longer. At the base in your fist you will feel a swelling start to bulge. That is the dog’s knot. Normally that would swell inside a bitch and lock them together while he impregnates her. But for now don’t expose the knot. Keep holding tightly onto his sheath and let the knot swell inside. His thrusting will subside – suckle on the very tip of his penis like you’re nursing from a breast. Grasp your fist as tight as you can, really squeeze like you want to crush a walnut. Now pull forward. The more you pull and squeeze his knot inside his sheath the more divine essence you will draw forth.”

The caretaker’s instructions came through in fragments as Marcus struggled with the humping monster. As he gulped down copious hot fluids indeed he could feel the bulge forming inside his clenched fist. Violent humping gave way to more infrequent movements until at last the dog stood unmoving. The shaft in Marcus’ mouth thickened from finger-thin to almost as thick as his wrist. It was a struggle to keep his teeth clear while his lips remained stretched around the thickening shaft. He realized he could use his tongue on the underside of the pointed tip and was rewarded with a volley of liquid fire in his mouth. The bulge in his fist grew larger than he could hold. Taut black skin of the dog’s sheath seemed to barely contain a swelling as large as the man’s fist.

Gradually Marcus became aware the taste of the emissions in his mouth had changed. At first there had been a harsh metallic taste from the dog’s penis, then salty-sweet busts of hot liquid. Now the taste was headier, like walnuts or soft cheese. Marcus could see the dog’s scrotum alternately lift, then fall in time with the emissions. Somewhere in dark of his mind a voice screamed that he was now drinking the potent semen of the beast. Now he was no longer a real man – he’d taken seed like a whore. Marcus squeezed his eyes closed, and tears of shame wet his face, even while he suckled down the monster’s seed.

Then he felt the eldritch fire seeping into him. When he’d finished with the bitch the fire had tingled. This new fire thrummed in him. This was ichor in his veins. His own penis hardened at the sexual thrill of raw power filling him. Surely he had succeeded this trial.

“Do not cease your ministrations to the dog! For yet a third of an hour keep the pressure on his knot and suckle at his teat. Dogs are creatures of endurance and you too must endure until the beast is finished with you,” warned the guardian.

Marcus suckled, drawing forth the divine reward of fire in his veins. How foolish he’d been to despair. He was becoming a god at merely the price of his manliness. Oh yes, this power was divine.

At last the swelling in Marcus fist receded. The taste in his mouth had returned to the lighter salty-sweetness of the diluted emissions. His lips were no longer struggling to contain the shrinking meat. When the knot had shrunk away the dog pulled his hips back, and the shaft entirely withdrew from Marcus’ mouth to its protective sheath. Unceremoniously the dog stepped away – he was sated, he was done, and the human had received his reward. The dog retreated to the deeper temple, while Marcus struggled to move his aching limbs.

“Very well done! You have satisfied a god and he has filled you with divine energies.” Keron helped Marcus regain his feet. “Let me help you to your room. Your trials are done for today and will resume tomorrow.”

Marcus’ knees were bruised and his nose hurt. His back ached from the unnatural pose and his shoulders were sore from the prolonged strain of keeping braced. When he turned his head an alarming series of crunches and clicks accompanied the movement. His mouth tasted of metal, and his lips had crushed against his teeth. When he burped, for a moment he struggled to contain rising bile.

But ichor burned in his veins. Liquid joy suffused his being. In his room he sat on the bed, trying his newly acquired skills. The eldritch flame could burn hot – he singed the sleeves of his robes testing the heat. He could use the fire to light the candles in the room, or extinguish them at will. Small balls of fire could be tossed and leave scorch marks on the flagstones. And even better, he could lift an apple at a distance. With just his will Marcus summoned a piece of fruit from the repast on the table and it flew through the air to his waiting hand.

Each exertion of power gave a burst of sexual pleasure thrumming from his chest to his penis. Eventually he surrendered to the comfortable bed – sleep overtook him even though his cock ached with need.