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What This Story Is About

This standalone story is about a young knight in a quasi-medieval duchy who was honored for his victories in a religious war only to find that you can win a battle but lose a war. This is the darkest and most raw story I've written. It involves submission, sexual servitude, CBT, urination, and chastity. This story includes feminine domination and implied bisexuality. There are no opposite sex scenes described in the story, however. If they happen, they happen off camera.

The tone of the story is also dark. It was written in an attempt to construct an erotic fantasy in the tradition of Clark Ashton Smith's Averoigne stories.

 

Author's Notes

·        I am only 1 chapter ahead of publication on each of the stories in the College Magic Magic Cycle, so I will be posting 1 chapter per week in this cycle until I can pull 2-3 chapters ahead again. I will be posting some standalone stories that I've been working on as I revise them. They will appear in different subcategories, so I will try to put links in this section of all my stories until such time as NIFTY sees fit to add me to the author pages.

·        My darker story Elf Master has started. If you aren't into heavier BDSM, you may want to skip that story. Other than sharing some background characters, that story does not intertwine with My Roomate the Alchemist and Wishcraft.

·        The Pack storyline has begun appearing. This storyline involved the werewolves on campus.

·        My Stories

o   College Magic

o   Jack and the Giant

 

The Sacred Submissives

Victor Fuscany was counted a lucky man in the Duchy of Alcaster. At 25 years of age, he'd distinguished himself in battle against the pagan armies at the Battle of Gramina, killing several of their leaders and earning the accolades of his uncle the duke. As reward, he'd been granted a manor belonging to Lord Raginard Lucany, and the hand of his daughter and heir Desideria. Lord Raginard had been a noble of the duchy, but he sided with the pagans against his duke's attempt to unify the kingdom under one faith. He'd been attaindered and his lands had become forfeit. But the duke was trying to prevent the families of the traitor lords from becoming a rallying point for discontented folk who preferred the pagan faith, so he was having his loyal men marry into those families so they could claim a legitimate right to their titles. And this was the reason why Victor Fuscany had just wed Desideria Lucany.

Victor considered himself lucky that his new wife was pretty. So many of the heirs were homely or ill-favored. Her beauty made the fact that his new lands were so far from the splendors of the court more palatable. Other than his impending exile to far end of the duchy, the only bitter pill was the sour mien of his mother-in-law, Arista, wife of the late lord. Her somber presence cast a gloom wherever she went, and she never went far from her daughter. She didn't dare to publicly mourn one who had been declared a traitor to the crown, but she made her displeasure known in her own way.

Victor remembered the details of his wedding and of the feast, but he couldn't remember his wedding night. He couldn't remember the details of the consummation. He had no idea that was because it was all illusion. His mother-in-law was a witch, and she had spun an illusion that had bewitched his senses and made him think he had done the deed, when in fact he had spilled his seed on the pillows.

As an initiated sword of light Victor had been sworn to chastity until marriage. His fellows had all clapped him on the back and congratulated him on finally losing his virginity, but none of them knew that he had not done so in fact, only in dream. Now he, his wife and his mother-in-law were making their two-week journey to the hinterlands of the duchy, to the village of Salicon, under the eaves of the Umber Forest. He had been given a dozen young swords of light for his to use in rooting out the remnants of heresy in his land.

There was no opportunity on the road for him to enjoy the favors of his new wife since there were few accommodations and those that existed were rude and lacked privacy. The further upstream they traveled along the Pelander river, the less populated the land became and more furtive the expressions of the faces around them. Victor thought that many of them were likely pagans themselves, and he felt an almost unrelieved tension as they passed.

Finally, on the tenth day they reached the village of Salicon and Victor's new lands. The fields looked fertile, and the house was well kept. The servants were tight lipped but polite, even if they did defer to Arista rather than to him. Perhaps this was to be expected. Villagers were simple folk and they had become accustomed to taking her lead over the years of her husband's rule. Victor determined to use an easy hand to rule the people. They would come to submit to his authority over time, he thought.

After their welcome feast, Arista found rooms for all the men and Victor was finally able to take his wife to their conjugal bed. He finished a cup of sweet wine while waiting for her to finish the preparations for bed. Despite his best efforts, he fell back on the soft pillows, his mind ensnared in dreamy veil. Because of the special potion she'd added to her husband's cup, Desideria had no need to see to his needs. Instead, she whispered in his ear, and he rose groggily from the bed to follow her naked into the woods. No one saw them, not even his loyal swords of light. They were all sleeping off their own draughts, even the one who was left on watch.

In the woods, there was a clearing with an ancient circle of stones. Desideria led her somnambulist husband into the middle of the circle of megaliths, and then withdrew to sit on one of the outer stones to wait. It wasn't long until He came, the god of the woods. He stood seven feet tall and had a powerful build. His brown hair was long and hung loose to his shoulders, and his beard was long and braided. He appeared to be somewhere between thirty and forty years of age. From his head, a rack of antlers rose, adding another foot or so to his height.

The god touched Victor on the forehead and suddenly he was awake. Seeing the god before him, he fell to his knees, overwhelmed by the irresistible aura of primal strength. Victor breathed heavily and took in the powerful masculine scent of the being in front of him. It permeated his being and touched something deep inside him. He was overwhelmed by the intense need to kneel before this being, this horned god of the woods. He reached forward to touch the massive cock before him. It was twelve inches in length, even while soft.

Desideria walked around the circle so that Victor could see her. "Now you know the power of our god, Victor," she said. "You can't help yourself. You're in the presence of Kernunos, the Great Horned God. Look at yourself, naked and hard. You want to serve him. Go ahead, Victor. Touch him. He may let you, and he may beat you within an inch of your life. Your best chance to show him your submission. We all submit to him in the end."

Victor couldn't stop himself. Desideria was right. He wanted nothing more than to submit to this god before him. And he didn't know why. He'd been a virgin until his marriage, and he had no idea that he still was. All his dreams and fantasies had been of women until now. When confronted by the overwhelming masculinity of the god, he felt weak and insignificant. His own six inches were painfully erect, but his hardness was in response to and in service of the god. It served no other purpose.

He reached out a hand and touched the cock hanging in front of his face. It began to swell. Confused, but driven by a need he didn't understand, he buried his head in the god's pubes, inhaling the powerful, animalistic musk of his masculinity. The god's cock became erect and began oozing precum. Victor was licking the god's massive balls and the precum was running all over his body. He leaned back and began to stroke the cock. It had grown to more than fifteen inches long and four and a half inches in diameter, making it as big around as it was in length.

"I want to serve you, master," he said. "I want to submit to you." As he spoke the words, he knew that they were true. They'd been drawn from deep within him by his need. His own masculinity was overwhelmed by that of the god, existing only as a tribute to him.

"Don't even bother, Victor," Desideria said. "The Great God won't acknowledge you. He won't honor you with his words until you have submitted to him completely. He doesn't even talk to me yet, but he will. Stroke him, Victor. Take his load on your unworthy face and make it a part of you. That's the first act of submission."

Victor wrapped both hands around the god's shaft and stroked it. It was pulsing in his hand. While worhipping the god, he didn't even consider his own cock, his inferior cock. It was nothing compared to the god's massive rod. He didn't even notice that it was throbbing and bouncing, leaking precum on the ground.

The god's cock was pouring precum and Victor was making sure that all of it landed on his face. The cock swelled and then erupted, spewing sacred cum all over him. Being a god, he had greater capacity than a mortal man. When he finished, Victor's head and face were covered with thick cream. His own cock spewed its smaller load on the ground, unnoticed by any of the three.

"Rub it into your body, Victor," Desideria said. "Rub it into your skin. Let it become part of you."

Victor smeared the cum all over his chest and his abdomen. He rubbed it until it was all absorbed. When not a trace of it remained, the god began to piss, a sharp acrid smelling liquid. Victor grabbed the god's dick and showered himself with it, groveling in his submission.

Without a word, or even the barest acknowledgement of the man submitting before him, the god walked away. His mighty muscular cheeks were the last thing Victor saw of him that night. Desideria walked over to him and placed her hand on his back. She led him to the house. She was walking and he was crawling after her on his hands and knees. Arista was waiting for them in the back courtyard with a smile on her face. When he drew close to her, she slapped him so hard that he saw stars for a moment.

"You call yourself lord of this manor, but you are a slave to the Great God, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes, I am," Victor said. "I want to serve him in all ways."

Arista replied, "And so you shall, Victor. As you are the god's slave, I am his high priestess, and Desideria my assistant. I command here, in the name of the god, and you will obey me in all things. Is this understood?"

"Yes mistress," Victor said quietly. Then he threw himself on the ground at her feet, pressing his face to the stones.

Desideria put a hand on his shoulder and said, "You may rise now, slave."

Victor rose to his feet but kept his eyes downcast. Desideria explained, "You will behave as lord of this manor because my mother and I require you to do so. But in our presence and in the presence of those we designate, you will remember your place. You have been chosen to serve a special purpose. Since you killed so many men who followed the god, you will now serve the faithful. And all those in this village are faithful."

Arista said, "You will say nothing of this to anyone. You will submit to the god again in 13 days. Do you know why 13 days, Victor?"

"No mistress," he said, thinking perhaps of some mystical significance to the number.

"Because thirteen is a sacred number. It is the number of holy epithets of the Great Goddess herself, and it is the number of sacred submissives who serve the Great God. It is the number of sacred brides of the Great God, and most importantly, it will take twelve days for each of your precious swords of light to submit the first time," she said.

Artista broke in, "You and your swords of light came here to conquer, but instead you will submit. Each of your men will be taken to that stone circle, and each of them will submit to the god. And once you have all submitted, three times, it will be time for my daughter to receive the seed of the god. Great Kernunos will sire your heir. In turn each of your men will be given wives, widows of those who lost their husbands in your uncle's crusade. And each of them will also see his wife bear the child of the god. In this way, we will restore our numbers with powerful sons and daughters. And you and your men will serve us."

Victor was led to his conjugal room, and he was made to lie on a rug on the floor and to contemplate his crimes, while his wife Desideria enjoyed the warmth of the bed alone.

With morning came guilt over his actions last night. Homosexuality was neither unknown nor particularly shameful in the duchy, and the Church of Light had no teachings forbidding it. Even though Victor had never had gay thoughts or dreams, that wasn't the cause of his shame. The guilt stemmed from his absolute submission to the God of the Woods. He had been taught that the pagan religions were dangerous because they didn't venerate the celestial angels but instead worshipped dangerous spirits or demons. He was ashamed of what he had done, but when he thought about the god, his cock grew hard immediately.

When his wife got up, she directed him to dress her properly and then to dress himself in simple clothing – a tunic and loose trousers. He was underdressed compared to her, but his outfit wasn't unacceptable for a country nobleman. Desideria had not allowed him undergarments however, and his dick was hard and tenting the trousers. Luckily the tunic was long enough to cover his embarrassment.

After a simple breakfast, the two of them went into the village. Under Desideria's orders, he had insisted that the guards remain behind. They didn't like it, but they obeyed him. In the village, Desideria introduced him to the important men and women. They all acknowledged him, but they referred to Desideria as Lady and him simply as sir. And he couldn't avoid the feeling that they knew that wasn't really the master of the domain, that he was the slave of the god, and the obedient servant the god's priestesses.

Their final stop was at the forge. The clanging of hammer on anvil and the roar of the fire greeted us. A handful of apprentices were tending the bellows, fetching buckets of water, and performing the other tasks necessary to work the iron. At the anvil, hammer in hand stood the smith, a towering hulk of a man with a balding pate and a bushy beard. When the pair arrived, he dismissed his assistants and closed the shutters.

"Are you ready, my lady?" he asked gruffly, completely ignoring the ersatz lord of the manor.

Desideria nodded at him, then looked at Victor and said, "Let your trousers drop."

"Not here in public, Desideria, not a chance," he said.

She flicked her wrist and snapped the crop she was holding against Victor's dick, striking the head even though it was obscured by the tunic and trousers. Sharp pain flooded through him, and Victor fell to the ground. He looked up at her. She looked down at him imperiously. Victor knew that this was wrong. He had been appointed to rule here in the name of the duchy, but his wife stood above him and seemed to be surrounded by the shadow of the god. She was his voice, and he was the slave of the god. His attempt at resistance crumbled.

Tears came to his eyes as he slowly stood and undid the ties at the waistband. He blushed as he let the trousers drop to his ankles. She glanced down at his six-inch erection pushing against the front of the tunic. "Remove your tunic as well," she demanded.

Victor didn't hesitate to obey. He pulled his tunic off and laid it on a counter. He stood there in the smithy, naked, with his trousers around his ankles and his cock sticking out if front of him.

"You disobeyed me, Victor," she said. "Lay your penis atop the stool."

She gestured toward a four-legged stool and Victor shuffled over to it and laid his erect penis atop the seat. Desideria walked over and snapped the crop in the air. Victor held his breath, knowing what was coming. He was embarrassed that the smith was witness to his humiliation, but mostly he felt fear and anticipation. With a swift flick, she snapped the crop against Victor's penis. He had resolved not to cry out, but the pain that lanced across his shaft caused him to shout in pain.

"Four more I think," she declared. Each strike hurt worse than the one before. Victor was crying openly but he didn't move. His devotion was to the god and to the god's chosen spokeswomen. There was no blood, but Victor's cock was red and throbbing.

"Now bend your body over the stool and hold onto the legs," she commanded.

The smith came over with leather cuffs that he used to secure Victor's thighs and upper arms to the legs so that he couldn't move. In a moment, he felt a searing pain as the smith expertly pushed a red-hot brand against his ass. It didn't take long, just a tap really, but it felt like an eternity to the young lord. He screamed in pain and his vision went white for a moment.

"That's nice mark, Tyro," Desideria said, touching the area around the wound, but avoiding the wound itself.

"Thank you, my lady," he said. His blunt finger poked at Victor's asshole. "It doesn't look like he's been opened yet ma'am."

Desideria cut him off with a slap of her crop on Victor's back. "He's not yours to open!" she snapped. "That flower is for the Horned God. Once he has been opened, then you can have him as often as you want. All the men of the village can."

"Thank you, my lady," he said. "I didn't mean to overstep."

Victor felt sick to his stomach. The throbbing pain from the burn on his butt was making his nauseous, but the words of the smith and the Lady of Salicon disturbed him greatly. On some level, he'd expected to take the god's cock inside him. Although he feared that it would rip him asunder, he wanted it on some level. But it was right for him to submit to the god. Submitting to the smith was different in some salient and indefinable way.

Once Victor was released from his fetters, he put his tunic back on and pulled up his trousers. He followed his wife back up to the manor house, walking gingerly to avoid as much pain as possible. He kept his eyes downcast, refusing to look upon the faces of the peasants. He knew that they would be smirking at him, sharing in their pleasure over his debasement and humiliation at the hands of one their own. The guards noticed his strange gait and asked if he were okay. He assured them that he was, but that he would be resting in his rooms for a few days because he has pulled a muscle.

That night, Desideria showed him the brand in a mirror. He was marked with the sign of the Horned God, a sign of his servitude. That same night, the lieutenant in charge of his guards was led into the woods. And in the morning, both were naked, groveling at the feet of Arista and the thirteen chosen brides of the Horned God, including Desideria. That very day, the lieutenant was led to the smith to be marked with the brand of servitude.

The remaining men found themselves surrounded by the other chosen brides and each counted himself lucky to find a willing woman. By the time they became suspicious they had been disarmed and secured in their rooms, each awaiting his turn to submit to the god. Not one among them was able to resist the overpowering aura of the god, and each submitted in turn. Once his men had been secured, Victor's position in the manor changed. All those who worked in the house we're among those initiated in the mysteries of the pagan faith.

Each day a new guard was brought into servitude. Each wore a thick leather collar around his neck and was always kept naked within the manse, allowed to don clothing only when being led outside. Slowly they took up the tasks of cleaning the manse and tending to those inside. In addition to the 14 women, there were another 10 men who now counted themselves masters of the former crusaders who had become slaves.

None of the slaves were allowed to release their seed. "You will earn you release only through serving the community you have harmed," Arista told them, taking great pleasure in seeing them reduced to this lowly status.

Of the men, only two of them had been gay before submitting to the god, but all of them dreamed only of the massively masculine cock of the Great Horned God. Since none of them were available to service the men and women of the estate until after the second submission, they were constantly erect and in need of release.

Victor's dreams had become increasingly erotic as the days passed. He found himself looking at the crotches of the men in the manor, imagining their shapes and their smell. His addiction to the god's cock was translating to addiction to any cock, and this was a natural progression for those who submit to the god.

On the 14^th day, Victor was led again into the forest to stand naked in the stone circle. One part of his mind wanted flee and seek refuge with his uncle's forces, either uncle, for his father's brother was the Grand Duke of Alcaster, and his mother's uncle led the duchy's forces in the western regions. Another part wanted to roll in the urine-soaked mud at the feet of the Great Horned God and submit to whatever He wanted.

When the god walked out of the woods, Victor almost came on the spot. He was more aware than his last visit. He could see that the god wasn't handsome in any classical sense, but his features were masculine and roughly hewn. His body was covered in thick brown hair, not like an animal, but like the hairiest of men. His muscles weren't pretty. They were thickly knotted and stuck out like bulging lumps against the body. He also was more aware of the smell that came from him. It was most concentrated in his groin, and armpits, but it emanated from every inch of his powerful body.

When the god came into the circle, Victor needed no prompting. He fell to the ground and kissed his muddy feet. The god rewarded him with a stream of hot piss that fell across his back and head. Victor, caught up his need to submit completely, rolled in the stinking mud, his own cock pouring precum.

The rough and booming voice of the god spoke to him for the first time, saying, "Rise now and take me in your mouth!"

Victor scrambled to his knees and took hold of the god's rampant erection. He touched it with trembling lips. This close, the muskiness of the god's scent was overpowering. And the taste of his rod was sour. The Great Horned God was a spirit of nature and had no tolerance for the affectations of civilization such as bathing.

Victor peeled back the skin from the god's cock and used his tongue to bath it, swallowing the accumulated smegma of years. The taste was rancid, but it sent electric thrills through the part of his brain that was being reshaped by the god's aura of masculinity. His cock pulsed and more precum poured onto the ground.

In a need to submit, he swallowed as much of that sacred rod as he could fit into his mouth. He sucked and massaged with his tongue at the same time. He impaled his own head on that cock, pushing it down until he choked and gagged. He held it there, coughing around the cock. Then he pulled away so he could breathe. In a few seconds, he swallowed it again, this time pushing enough to get the head into his throat. He held it until he couldn't breathe, then pulled away again. Each time he swallowed that massive rod, he pulled it further into his throat and held it longer. By the end, he had swallowed it to the root. Unable to breathe, he held it there anyway. His submission overwhelming his instinct for survival. His vision faded to black and white stars flashed before his eyes, but he felt the god's mighty cock begin to pour sacred seed directly into his throat. He passed out before the god was spent, and the cock slid out of his mouth. He came to within moments, the last of the god's seed spread on his face. He dutifully rubbed it into his skin without beings told to do so.

He lay there supine on the ground, his own cock still throbbing and oozing cum on his abdomen. He'd spilled his load while serving the god, and again he didn't even notice his own release. His entire body felt like it had orgasmed. He was weak and panting.

The god nudged Victor's cock with his calloused foot, and Victor looked up at him and spread his legs. His eyes were full of fear, but they were also pleading. The god kicked him lightly in the balls, and a sharp pain spread up his spine. He spread them further, and the god kicked him harder. Victor was crying, but begging, "Great God of the Woods, please take my pain as a gift to you, an homage to your greatness!"

The god continued to kick Victor's nuts until he passed out from pain, then he turned and walked back into the woods.

When Victor regained consciousness, he saw Desideria squatting next to him. "The god was pleased with you, Victor," she said. "Your submission was a perfect sacrifice for him. We're going back now. Crawl after me."

Desideria took her time walking back to the manor house and Victor crawled after her. In the rear courtyard, all the initiates and the other twelve sacred submissives were waiting. The ten male initiates stood in a line with their cocks hanging out. Victor worked his way down the line, sucking the cock of each man in turn and swallowing his cum. His jaw was already aching from worshipping the monstrous rod of the god but servicing another ten men was still not an easy task. But the physical pain in his jaw was as nothing compared to the undeniable realization that he liked the feeling of a cock in his mouth, and he liked the taste of cum on his tongue. Had he always been this way, or was it a new state brought on by the transformative power of the god's own seed?

Then desideria had him lie on his back in an oval shaped pit. Once at a time, Arista, the chosen brides of the goddess, and the female initiates squatted over him and pissed. Then the male initiates took their turn. As the warm and sour smelling liquid washed over his body, it felt to Victor as if it were washing away his old self and reinforcing his submission.

Reeking of piss, but cleansed of mud, Victor crawled after Desideria, through the great hall, and up the stairs to their room. He fell asleep on the rug next to the bed and dreamed dreams of submission to the Great Horned God.

The following day, Victor discovered that the rules had changed. He was no longer allowed to rise from his knees inside the manor unless it was required to perform a task. And since he had now given his mouth to the god, his mouth was now accessible to the initiates. Most of those in the manor chose to use his mouth at least once a day, while those in the village often found reason to come to the manor so they too could make use of him. In little time, Victor had become an expert cocksucker.

The very next day after his submission, Victor was taken into the village to visit the chiurgeon (also a barber and a dentist). Desideria directed him to take a seat in the chair. The chiurgeon cut his hair in a neat and short style, not at all in keeping with the current fashion for men to wear their hair down to their collars. Then he shaved all Victor's body hair, leaving him smooth as a newborn babe. But the most frightening part of the experience was when his arms and legs were restrained in the chair and the chiurgeon took out his long needles.

Victor couldn't move. The chiurgeon used that needle to pierce each of his ears and to put a gold ring an inch in diameter in each. Then a smaller needle was used to pierce each nipple and smaller gold ring of only half an inch was put in each of those. But the worst was yet to come. The chiurgeon used a curved needle to enter the head of his penis and to exit at the bottom. Another ring was placed in this hole.

Afterward, Desideria said, "On your knees, Victor. The chiurgeon is one of the initiates of the faithful. Give him your thanks for marking you as a sacred submissive to the Great God. To all the initiated, your status will be apparent upon seeing these earrings, and they will know that you must submit to their desires.

His walk back to the manor was even more painful than the last trip. He was allowed to rest for the next two days, which meant no chores and the initiates who wanted to use his mouth came into his room and used him on the rug where he slept. On the third day he was back to crawling around the house, performing whatever duties may be required. All the most menial and disgusting jobs had now become the sole responsibility of the so-called lord of the manor and his swords of light.

Each of the swords were taken to the woods to make their second submission to the Great Horned God, one per day. As each made their second submission, their mouths too became available to the initiated cultists. It was also in this second phase of their servitude that each was strung up in the great hall at night and given five strokes of the cane on their bare bottoms, plus another five for each rule they had broken during the day.

As they served food in the great hall each evening, a task which allowed them walk upright for a while, they noticed that the ten male initiates had become thirteen and each of them was now wearing the armor and carrying the arms formerly belonging to one of the sacred submissives. They comported themselves as knights of the realm and enjoyed a great feast, while Victor and his men served them food and drink and then sucked their cocks and provided them with relief when they needed to piss.

When their days of servitude were done, they were allowed a meal of cold porridge from the kitchen pots before bedding down in the one room they all shared. They slept on the wooden floor with no blankets, huddling together for warmth. Having no other relief, they took to pleasuring each other in the dark of the night. None of them were happy, but all felt the need to continue their submission to the god. They freely enjoyed one another's mouths, but they knew that their asses were off limits until the god had opened them.

Every seven days, the chiurgeon came to the manor house to cut their hair and to shave their bodies. Some of the men had mouths that were a little too small to accommodate all the dicks they were forced to suck each day, so the chiurgeon removed the four teeth at the back of their mouths to make the passage smoother.

When the time came for Victor's third submission, he was fearful and excited at the same time. He waited in the stone circle, painfully hard, as was normal for him these days. He kept his hands clasped behind his back and his head bent to the ground. He smelled the god before he saw him, the powerful scent of primal masculinity that blocked out all other senses. When the god came before Victor this time, he wasted no time. He grabbed him and threw him prone across the stone altar, with his legs dangling almost but not quite to the ground.

The god rubbed his thick cock against Victor's virginal hole smearing it with his precum. When he judged it to be ready, he entered slowly but forcefully. Victor screamed and cried, but there was no one to help him. The god pushed his massive cock in and then allowed Victor a chance to adjust, to accommodate the monstrous rod inside him. Then he pressed forward another inch. When Victor's hole had become too dry, the god tapped the sacred submissive's cock and gathered the precum that oozed out. He used this slippery liquid to remoisten the painfully stretched lips and then continued.

The Great God didn't stop pushing until all fifteen inches were inside Victor, then he began to fuck him in earnest. The sacred submissive lost track of the time. When the god's cock swelled then came inside him, he could feel the pulsing and he could feel the warmth of the seed inside him. He knew that he himself had also cum, but he couldn't remember when. But the god wasn't done. He fucked Victor again, taking longer to cum this time than the last. And even twice wasn't enough for him. Thrice in one night Victor was fucked, and he himself came every time.

When the god had finished with him, Victor was glad to be crawling. His ass ached with pain, and it was dripping divine seed down his legs. His knees were too weak to stand, much less to walk. When he got back to the manor, he hardly felt the thirteen initiates fuck his ass. Despite the abuse it had taken earlier, it was gaping so wide that he could barely feel them in inside him. When he crawled up to the room he shared with the other sacred submissives, he collapsed on the floor. Despite the obvious pain he felt, the men couldn't resist using his ass now that it was open for them. He took all thirteen of them.

He awoke in a puddle of cum that had leaked from his ass. Perhaps sorry for their behavior the night before, the others licked up the cum and cleaned the rest from Victor's swollen ass lips. All but Victor were taken and made to work; Victor was led into a shrine in the basement where Arista and her thirteen priestesses stood. He was led to the altar and made to lie down on his back. The women took turns beating his erect cock until it softened.

Then Arista pulled out a device made of gold. It looked like an articulated tube. She placed it over Victor's penis and locked it with a small lock that went through the ring in the head of his dick. She pulled it snug against his bare pubic region and one of the other women held it there. Then she attached straps to the three rings that were on the edge next to his skin and wrapped them around his body. The upper strap connected to the ring on the top and went up around his waist where it was fastened securely. It had a second strap that went around the waist like a belt. The lower strap was shaped like a y. The single strap attached to the bottom of the ring. It went between his legs and separated. The two longer sides went around his hips and attached to the belt. The gold device was held tight and there was no room for the penis to grow at all. And there was no way he was going to get an erection in this device.

When he was led down to join the men in work, the other sacred submissives stared at the device in horror. They teased his balls but had no success. There wasn't even an eighth of inch for his cock to grow. All thirteen of them sucked cocks that afternoon, but only Victor's ass had been opened, and many opted for that.

Each night another of the men was taken into the forest to give their ass to the Great Horned God. And in the morning, he would be taken to be fitted with the device that prevented them from getting an erection. This was the most sobering and terrifying thing that had happened to them. The only release they had was when they pleasured one another at night, fumbling around on the hard wooden floor of their room. Now even this was to be denied them.

It was too much for one of the men, a burly and powerful warrior named Tully who had born each of the other humiliations without outward complaint. Like the others, he had been overwhelmed by the need to submit to the god. But outside that overwhelming presence, his submission wasn't strong enough to endure this final degradation. He fled during the daylight hours, and we didn't see him again for thirty days.

On the 29^th day after his defection however, my own maternal uncle, a knight of the duchy without noble title came to the manor to show his credentials to the Lady of Salicon. He'd been appointed the ducal legate for this region, and his task was to oversee the royal guards and to act as judge of last appeal for all but the nobility, who had to the right of appeal to the duke, my other uncle. Everyone knew that the ducal legates were the eyes and ears of the duke, the only real insight he had into the affairs the far flung reaches of the duchy.

I wasn't allowed to see him when he arrived, and I wondered what excuse my lady wife made for my absence. All the sacred submissives were hidden that day and regular servants took up the duty of serving at the table. That night I was torn. I had submitted to the Great Horned God. I had taken his seed into me, first absorbing it through my skin, then swallowing it and then finally taking it into my ass. I belonged to the god, and I couldn't bring myself to break that bond, but I didn't want anything to happen to my uncle, so I slipped out of the dormitory of the sacred submissives and found the guest room which he had been given. I feared greatly for his safety here in this village of pagans.

Inside I saw him sleeping in the bed. Another form was lying on the far side of him. I suspected it was one of the maids, giving herself to him so that she could spy on him during the night. I woke him gently. "Uncle," I said. "Please wake up. Your life is in danger."

He opened his eyes and sat up. It was dark, but there was dim illumination coming from the window. His eyes took in my nakedness, the smooth gleam of my hairless body and the shine of the gold tube around my cock. "I suspect you have much to tell me, Victor," he said.

"Yes sir," I replied. I told him the whole tale and explained that I thought his life must surely be in danger, that the cult had grown more powerful on the fringes of the duchy than anyone back at the capital could have imagined.

"And you are coming to me to save my life?" he asked.

"Yes sir," I said. "One of our number escaped so there are only twelve of us now, but I don't know whether he got away or was killed. I don't want your death to be on my conscience when I could so easily have warned you."

"And I suppose that you'll want me to rescue you, as well?" he asked, stroking his beard with one hand.

"No sir," I humbly admitted. I have given myself to the Great Horned God, and my place is with him."

My uncle jumped out of bed. I could see his long cock swinging back and forth as he moved, and I licked my lips without thinking. He said, "This is intolerable, Victor. You know that the number of sacred submissives in the major temple must be thirteen. That's why I made sure you were assigned twelve guards when you came."

"What?" I stammered. "You knew about the cult and the power it held here in the western marches of the realm?"

My uncle took my face in his hands and said, "Of course, my boy. It was my information that allowed them to save so many of the initiates from the east and allowed them to slip into the western fringes of the duchy. I've been a hidden initiative all my life."

"The duke will find out and then you'll be tried for treason!" I shouted, unsure whether I wanted him to be found out, or whether I feared for his life.

"Nonsense, boy," he said. "I am the duke's trusted eyes and ears, and he knows only what I tell him. Who else could speak to him?"

"The guard who escaped," I said. "Jovan Tully could tell him."

"I don't think so," he said. "Get up Tully! My nephew fears you got away."

The figure next to my uncle climbed out of the bed, his large muscular body completely hairless. I glanced down and noticed that his cock and balls had been removed. He was completely smooth down there, with only a tiny slit where his genitals used to be. He was crying, despite his size. I knew his face very well. It was my missing man.

My uncle said, "I'm so glad that you didn't betray your oath to the Great Horned God. I'm glad that you've accepted your role as a sacred submissive. Tully here couldn't so he's been reassigned as a sacred eunuch. He will be serving in the Temple of the Great Mother in the Land of Kyriana.

"You may wonder why I betrayed you, Victor. It's simple. I had to convince the leaders of my cult that I was trustworthy. And the best way to do that was to provide a sacrifice of my own family. My sister, your mother never needs to know. She's happier not knowing. It was really her sin, converting to the faith of the destroyers that moved my hand. And she did it all for love of your father. Little does she know that he already serves as a sacred eunuch in Kyriana. That's why his body was never found."

My uncle threw his robe around his shoulders. "Come with me, eunuch, submissive," he said, addressing both Tully and me.

We followed him meekly down the stairs to the back court. All the initiates were gathered, and Desideria was leading a crawling figure out of the woods. "You see, Victor," my uncle said. "The major enemies of the faithful were your father and his brother the duke. Both family lines had to be eradicated. The duke has been cursed with infertility. Your son will inherit the throne, and by your son I mean a son of the Great God fathered on your wife. And as for your brother ..."

In the moonlight I could see the crawling figure coming down the path. It was my 18-year-old brother Erasmus, freshly back from his first submission.

"And as for your brother Erasmus, I will be transferring him to your guard and he can serve in the same way as you," he said.

I saw the whole plan before my eyes. My brother and I would be hidden on the fringes of the duchy, serving the initiates of the old faith as sacred submissives. The duke would never sire an heir and he would have to adopt my wife's son, believing it to be mine, to be his nephew. Of course, my maternal uncle would be there to guide the new heir and to make sure that he was raised a secret follower of the old faith. Once the council accepted him as the heir, the duke would have an accident, and the Son of Kernunos would assume the throne. The cult had lost the Battle of Gramina, but they would win the war.