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"Recite to me the incantations of the Wall Beneath. Tonight I shall gaze upon the incomprehensible visage of Ker-Koro. I will stare into the eye of god and redden my palm with my blade and give unto Ker-Koro the crimson force of life from my very vessel," these words were spoken one night by a sleep ridden coyote, a coyote who had offered everything he has ever known to please the magnificent terror locked below the mountains of the eastern shores.

The towering stone eminence stood entombed in fog from the ocean on the other side of it. The ranged was all that stood between known life and the known end of the world for the horrors that lurk within and beyond it lead anyone who dared appease their curiosity to a death by drowning, falling, starving, or madness itself. The area is left alone and the sane avoid making even passing glances for fear of seeing something so unholy it robs them of their humanity.

The coyote standing here at the base of the slope was known simply as Zane. Zane made a mistake no less than 2 years back when he traveled along the range trail from his small commune in the south plains of The Prints, a place where footsteps of never seen giants were the only feature among the flat grasslands.

He headed north to deal and trade his supply of pelts and ore to any settlements he could find. His destination was the cliffs that faced the Purple Sea, another edge none dared to go beyond. There was a city there where the money flowed and the people prospered, at least that's what was believed.

He never made it to the city. He lost his wagon topping to an unnatural wind and had been entranced by the range, for the topping was used to shield his eyes from seeing the mountains. He pulled off road and went straight for the range. At some point his horse became frightened by something he couldn't see. His horse went limp and never stood up again.

He continued on foot until he stopped at the base where the ground turned into a sharp incline. He couldn't figure out what drove him to do this, just something here called out his name and told him of great things he couldn't help but believe were true.

The first few days he spent at the bottom of the mountains were spent setting up a camp fit with a tent made from the cloth he was going to sell. A few return trips to the abandoned cart yielded enough materials to sleep comfortably and eat fully. Zane was used to living off the land as is, being a small farm owner who travels a lot. He could find more food and resources if need be.

Every day he walked the corner of the ground where it turned into mountainside looking for what had called him here with such a seduction that he left everything behind to search for it. Every day he walked and turned up nothing, the field between the mountains and the road were long and silent with only the wind caressing the tall grasses and few bushes that lay strewn across the land. The mountains were harsh and rocky as he would expect, shooting up into the fog where he would lose sight of the peak among it.

It was always so cold with the weather picking up the oceans water and coolness in its grasp before sending it up and over the mountains and into the plain that Zane was living in now. He stoked his fire constantly and made sure it was roaring, even in the sun during the rare times it shone on him.

A week or so passed--he sense of lost time here. He left his tent and noticed the wind was gone one day, as were the birds and the buzzing of bugs. He could hear again the voice in his head that lead him here, that sweet and soft voice. Zane's body was full of giddiness you'd expect to see from a child chasing a bunny. He skipped a bit as he walked for he knew that day where to go. The silence around him allowed for the clarity within his head to point him to the door.

The door was a four foot wide and seven foot tall stone entry, dwarfing Zane by about a foot and a quarter. It was embedded into a cliff face far enough down the range that he couldn't see his camp. He didn't know how far he had actually walked but the distant smoke stack from his fire gave him a small idea of the distance.

The door was engraved from top to bottom with runes the likes of which Zane couldn't understand. He ran his hand across them, feeling the delicate stonework underneath his retracted claws. They felt warm to the touch and Zane couldn't help but press his full face against the door. His ear to the surface confirmed what he already knew; the voice was coming from within the door. He smiled and pressed his head even harder against it just to get a better listen.

"You astonishing being. Your fur looks so soft. Let me touch it, please?" it said, whatever it was. It seemed extremely masculine to Zane although it had a sensual and sweet undertone to it. It had both a deep and an unexplainable voice that echoed from beyond the door. It rippled through the fog yet left the air undisturbed as if it wasn't actually being spoken, instead being told to Zane through some entwined connection he had with its source.

"Let me in," Zane said. His breathing and speaking had a shiver to it, "Let me in, please? I can't get in."

The door shook slightly before splitting at the middle vertically. Zane stepped back and watched in awe as some unknown mechanism moved pure stone as if it was lighter than hay. A dank scent left the doorway as it opened, air escaping instead of entering as if something inside was making the atmosphere thicker than the cool humidity outside. It was warm too, Zane noticed. He let it blow across his fur and catch the cups of his perked ears. He could hear the voice beyond the gust of musty wind that came from within, it made him smile again.

"Enter," the voice told Zane. He walked in without much hesitation. The darkness surrounding him inside was nullified by his keen senses and coyote eyes that adjusted immediately. He looked around, felt the walls with his paws, and sniffed the air. Beyond the door was a general cave that stood taller than the entry but only by a few feet. He could walk freely without bumping his head on anything or grazing a wall with his shoulders.

The floor under him was smoothed out stone as if it had been hand dug out and then walked on by countless others before him. It was near perfectly flat and covered in a dust that could only come from the stone around him.

"There will be a turn and then a descent not too far away from here. Come to me."

Zane walked and walked, ignoring the door behind him as it slide itself closed again. He didn't even notice how cold it had gotten once the hot air escaped the cave as if it had exhaled. He could feel his own breath warm his nose as he pressed on.

It wasn't a long walk before he saw the turn he was told of. He stepped around it without hugging the wall. Confident in his steps, he walked center of the tunnel until he saw it slope down. His vision was great in the dark but even he couldn't see very far down the decline in the path. It dropped into an abyss that made him feel the first sense of worry he's had since veering off his trade route.

That fear in him was quickly subsided by another wind of warmth that blew from below. It had the same stench of a hot breath that passed by damp cave walls. A scent that would have been revolting to another is blissful to Zane and gave him the reassurance he needed to keep moving.

The tunnel walls began to expand outward the further he walked. Eventually it opened up into a room he could oddly make out near perfectly once he was taken out of his bravery trance. He examined the shape of the room and realized it wasn't made by an ancient river or any other natural means, it was carved out by hand. The walls had letters cut into that left no room for more to be made as the entire domed room had been covered in them. Zane could read the letters but didn't understand the language.

In front of him was a chest high lump of stone about as long as Zane's arm span left to right and about as wide as his torso. It had been rounded at the edges and smoothed on the top--the only part of the room not blanketed in scrawls. Zane noticed the front facing section of the stone mound had more method in the writings than the rest of the room. It was outlined in a square indent and the letters were carved out of the face of the rock instead of cut into it, this made them protrude and, in turn, made them stand out to the eye.

He crouched in front of the mound and tried to read the wall of outlined sayings. His misunderstanding of the language brought him a mild despair. He felt he had disappointed the voice that brought him here.

"I..I'm sorry. I cannot read this," He said out loud. Looking around, he sought some semblance of hope or reassurance.

"Look again, my love," he was told.

He focused back on the words and saw that they had reformed into an understandable sentence while he was looking away, that or he was gifted the ability to read whatever language it was written in.

For the being, a servant. For the servant, an endless love. For this occurrence a sacrifice of will must be made.

Zane assumed what this meant and contemplated handing his being over to the voice for but a few seconds before standing back up and readjusting his leather peacoat--a delicacy of clothing for a mere trader such as him.

"I will do it. For you, anything. This joy you bring me I cannot explain in words but I will pay back in action. Please accept me as your servant," he opened his arms as he spoke and looked around, "Will you show me yourself?"

The voice was filling the room when it muttered, "I am below this all. That writing was not an offer but more a rule. I am trapped here and I need your help to be freed."

"Why are you trapped? What did this to you?"

"People much like you. They were blind and overly proud of it. They prayed against me and struggled against my wishes. I sat upon a throne here once where they bowed to me. One of them wriggled from my sight, be it by accident or by some external power, and they pulled the others away. They were all convinced of some wrongdoing I had done to them. I gave them too much power and they used it against me here. That writing you see on the walls, it's their seal, or at least their attempt at one. The rules set in stone in front of you is a contingency plan I had made, a rule of my own set in the limited time I had before I was imprisoned."

Zane had his questions, no doubt, but he wasn't going to waste time now. It had to be getting late and he was going to have to move his camp over here just for the convenience.

"You can stay in here. The others left their things. I preserved them for you," it said as if it was reading Zane's mind.

He shook off the thought and smiled, "Of course I'll stay here. May I ask your name?"

"Ker-Koro."

"I like that name"

The cave lit up with an otherworldly glow. It was warm and comforting to Zane and shone like soft sunlight. It was like the walls themselves were shining. He could see all the scrawling now, it was definitely made by people; inconsistent, messy, mostly illegible. There were a few words around that made no sense, they were too crude and raunchy.

In the corner of the room he saw an alcove hidden away from the main tunnel in and obscured by the corner of the mound which Ker-Koro was supposedly under. He stumbled his way into it, weak at the knees, and found a thick bedroll laid by some stalagmites. Beside the roll was a crate with a burnt out candle and an empty piece of parchment on it. That was all there was in the alcove save for an out of place looking stone sat in the middle near the bedroll.

"They stayed here. This is what I was able to make them leave behind when they left," Ker-Koro spoke in its soothing voice, "That stone, I noticed you saw it, it will substitute a fire in here so the smoke doesn't choke you out. Be careful around it for it does burn to the touch. You can cook on it."

Zane was impressed and confused still but wasn't going to question Ker-Koro's power. It had lead him here by glance alone and he felt in no space to be casting doubts about everything, not that he'd even want to, he was warmed by it's voice and had a tingling desire to feel Ker-Koro embrace him.

The first night in the cave was accompanied by a silence that Zane wished he could block out with the music of a tavern band. The bedroll was comfortable and the burning stone produced a perfect heat that became trapped in his grey-brown fur. It made him physically peaceful but his mind raced with questions and fears: who is Ker-Koro? What is Ker-Koro? Why is he so attracted to Ker-Koro? What will become of him after he pleases its wishes?

Lastly, this night brought on more than a crush on the mysterious. Something beyond desire and straight into need. Zane scooted his body up and lied back against the wall with his head. The stone behind him was warm to the touch and angled just right for his neck.

He cleared his throat a bit and took in the room around him as he untied the cotton band that held his sleeping garments above his waist. Upon untying them he was able to slide the pants down just to his knees.

His sheath was already twitching in anticipation as well as from being pent up for the last few...however long it has been since he came last. It had to have been weeks considering he hasn't since he left the road to find his new love. His wife never wanted to do anything with him anymore on top of it.

Zane grabbed his sheath and balls with one paw, cupping them and wiggling them a bit. He usually never watched his own cock as he masturbated but something had changed this time around, he wanted to watch it grow. He used a clawed finger to prod the entrance to the sheath, pulling out a string of precum that stuck to his finger before separating at the middle. He took the small glob on his finger to his mouth where he ran it along his tongue. The taste was new to him and caught him off guard, that semi-salty and oddly satisfying aftertaste that lingered heavily in the back of his throat.

He let loose a soft moan with a shiver behind it. The flavor that leaked from him enhanced the groping he did to himself, his deep red cock tip started to show itself, soon followed by the start of the shaft. He watched it grow, rubbing his balls gently, and let out a surprised giggle for the sins he committed only doubled the ecstasy; the sodomy and the mild homoerotic images that flashed through his brain were both things frowned upon by the vicars of his land. He's been caught with his dick in his paw before and swiftly put in the pillory for it.

Zane didn't care at this point which added a rebellious compliment to the taste of precum still in his mouth and the hastily erected cock that fell under its own weight against his belly with a softened thump where it spilled more into his fur. He grabbed it and lifted it up, admiring the length with a smile. His paw slowly began to stroke it from base to mid shaft while gripping gently, he preferred friction over grasp.

He released a hot breath that filled his nose with the scent of digesting breakfast--rabbit meat and campfire coffee. He inhaled the smell and found it oddly pleasant combined with the clean yet un-bathed musk that almost steamed off his freshly unsheathed cock.

His strokes became faster and covered more surface area with each movement. Eventually he was going tip to base where he would tug on his knot on the ascent up his rod, an action that made his legs wiggle and tense a bit. He grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled it, stretching the fabric until it started to tear. His cock leaked a steady flow of precum onto his hand with each rub.

He huffed more and more as he imagined what Ker-Koro would do to him if he had good behavior and did its bidding. He wondered if he would have to give his tail end to it, something he was more than willing to do. The fantasy of doing so caused Zane to cum. He shot rope after thick rope of hot goo across his exposed belly and shirt. A few stray loads zoomed out and hit his face. He closed his eyes and turned his head where one last shot hit his face.

He sat there breathing heavily--his still hard dick sat upright in his paw where he could still feel his heartbeat in it. He looked back down at the cum that coated his hand and belly. He contemplated how to clean this mess up.

"Lick it all up," said Ker-Koro.

Zane was caught off guard. The feeling of love and lust hadn't faded after coming like he thought it would. Instead, he felt the same as he had before. Not wanting to disappoint his lover he lifted his paw off his cock and lapped away at the cum that caked his fur. He let a few pleased moans out as he scooped what he could from his torso, eating it all without hesitation.

"Good boy. I think I can love you. Continue to prove yourself," Ker-Koro continued.

"I love you too," said Zane. He meant it. He loved Ker-Koro.