Sacrifice

Naked and bound she waits

The church was in ruins. Only a small chapel still had its roof and even this had no proper door, only a barred metal grill over the doorway.

“You like your wedding dress, witch?” one of the men asked as they dragged her to the churchyard.

She made no answer. The villagers had stripped her and dressed her in a white dress. The demon’s bride’s dress, they had called it. She was surprised there was not a mark on it, considering it was brought out for each occasion.

The metal grill clanged as they flung her against it.

We need to tie her. Don’t want her running off,” the second man looked at his companion.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at them. Her expression of contempt said, you really have not thought this through have you. How long had it been since they had done this, ten years, twenty, a hundred? Maybe it was their fathers or grandfathers who last brought a woman here to appease their demon. Not that she was afraid of the idea. This little backwater of a village may still be in the Middle Ages, but the rest of the world had moved on.

“Your belt,” he said. “Use your belt.”

“I hope me trousers don’t fall down,” the first man said. “I might be tempted to give her one before he gets here.”

“You don’t fuck no witch. You leave her to him. He likes them clean and ready,” he said as he turned to her and gripped the top of the dress. He pulled it down and her breasts sprang out. He paused for a moment and his eyes widened as he stared at the rounded flesh and rosette nipples. Then he pulled the dress down to her ankles, slid it over her feet and stood up.

Well, that explained why there were no marks on it. Reuse and recycle, perhaps they were drifting into the modern world. She glared at the man and she felt the coarse skin of his hand as he brushed it across her breasts and down across her belly. The fingers paused on her mons and his face creased in indecision.

“Go on, fuck a witch if you dare,” she spat the words at him.

She felt the pressure of his hand disappear as both men turned and walked away.

The churchyard was silent and the summer night was warm so she would not freeze to death, but her nipples still stood out hard against the chill. She wriggled against the belts holding her wrists. The men had done a good job and pulled them tight and they bit into her skin. She was used to being naked and tied up, she liked it, but usually there was a lover around to enhance the game.

She pulled on the bonds again. They had used the clasps on their belts to secure them, so there were no knots she could work loose. The grill clanked as she moved but then she heard another sound. Footsteps in the darkness and they were getting closer.

He appeared in the edge of her vision. His muscular body hidden in shadow. She turned her head, trying to focus on his form. His face was dark, lacking features as if hidden by a mask. His body looked human but carried something otherworldly about it. When he stepped forward his cock, an erect solid column of flesh, glistened in the weak moonlight.

“We meet again,” his deep voice resonated off the walls of the ruin and vibrated through her.

“You are difficult to track down,” she said. “You have refused all my summons.”

His body softened slightly, his flesh lost some of its forest hue; became warmer as if blood was starting to flow through his veins.

He moved closer to her and reached up, his fingers resting on the belts as if to loosen them.

“No,” she whispered. “I am yours, take me like this.”

“How do you know I will not tear you apart when I resume my true form?” He breathed into her ear.

“It is a risk I am willing to take, and I know you won’t,” she said as she lifted her head and closed her eyes. She could feel his shaft between her legs, its head parting her lips as his hips rocked gently back and forth.

His finger tips circled her nipples, teasing the tight buds as they brushed over them before grasping at them, pinching and making her gasp. His hands swept down her body until his palms cupped the rounds of her behind. He lifted her, suspending her from the ties that bit into her wrists, as he pushed into her.

He did not move. He simply allowed her to hang from the restraints, impaled on his phallus, her legs around his hips. She moaned and tried to snake her body against him, but he held her firm as nothing but the sweet sensation of his thick, hard flesh deep inside her filled her mind.

He began to morph, his muscles reforming, his cock thickening, his breathing becoming harsher. And then he moved. His organ thrust in and out of her, pushing her open, sliding against the tensing muscles deep inside her.

She wailed, the sound echoing off the surrounding trees. Her body quivered as each wave surged through her. She felt his seed rising as he hammered into her. Now completely in his true form, he took her, possessed her, his power running through her veins, sparking through her nerves until he slowed and stopped with one final deep thrust that seemed to hold her there for an eternity.

He slid from her, letting her sag back against the bars, where she hung like a limp sacrifice. He tugged at the belts, releasing her and she slumped to the ground. She lifted her head, for a moment his cock, silvered with her juices and still dripping with his spend, hung in front of her. Then he turned and was gone, walking back into the night.

Sometime later, she got shakily to her feet and began to walk to the edge of the ruin where she had hidden some clothes. “It would be so much easier if you had a phone,” she muttered to herself as she dressed.