Page 37 of The Night Belongs To Lovers

The god implanted a scene in which he pulled his cock out of his pants and began fucking his prey with force enough to nearly break his back. Corey could see Christian’s physical responses acting according to the images in his mind: panting, whining, and very vocal grunts.

The god also psychically inserted several sadomasochistic acts, which he quickly saw from Christian’s throbbing cock, with its near purple head, that he was enjoying tremendously.

The graphic images included handcuffs sprouting from behind the god’s back, roughly placed upon Christian wrists, wild spanking leading to whipping along the mortal’s exposed back with the god’s nylon belt, and even more aggressive roughness, both physical and mental suffering.

Christian’s thoughts projected loudly that he especially liked the danger of being exposed amid such an open environment. And it was all consensual; Christian was deriving much pleasure from experiencing pain and force. The god could sense the mortal’s willingness to push his boundaries and that he desired more—fetish.

So Corey gave it to him with additional stimulating visuals. The mortal broke out in a sweat despite most of his body being untouched. The brain was, after all, the most potent sexual organ inthe human body, and it was so much easier for the god to manipulate a human psychically than attempt to engage in any of these physical actions himself.

The psyche, a realm of infinite possibilities, held the power to manipulate time. Within this domain, an hour could be a minute in the physical world, resulting in endless enjoyment without physical exhaustion. It was a place where one was free to explore and indulge in pleasures that could otherwise be fleeting in the mortal world. Sex could be musty, sweaty, hot, wet, or a combination of these.

In a realm where time, matter, and environment held no sway, possibilities were endless, and limitations were nearly nonexistent. Anything the god could conceive of was doable.

Along with creating the visuals, Corey could influence his prey’s emotions, direct their reactions, and manipulate the olfactory senses. However, he only utilized this coercion a few times, as Christian’s desires drove him forward without much need for prodding enjoyment.

While Christian was lost in a fabricated reality, riding waves of euphoria, Corey straightened the man’s back so that he sat upright on his knees. Then, the god went down on Christian, placing the mortal cock wholly in his mouth. Corey bit the inside of his bottom lip to allow the dribbling blood to provide some slick for the blowjob.

This act was one physical pleasure he still enjoyed with the prey, for his enhanced sense of taste amplified everything a hundredfold. The savoury flavour of the salty skin, moist with sweat, excited him.Even the abundant buildup of pre-cum around the head was sweet and delicious. However, he knew not to ingest the substance as he could not process or absorb anything of the mortal realm internally except the food of the gods: blood.

He had to spit—not swallow.

The blood-filled veins of Christian’s steel-rod cock drove the god wild with desire, with need; he was hungry for sustenance. Corey could smell the iron-rich liquid underneath the sheath of mortal flesh just waiting to be ingested.

After a few back-and-forth movements of his mouth along the shaft, his tongue exploring every centimetre of lean mortal skin, the god bit into the meaty organ, extracting the Nectar from the pulsating veins. The blood flowed copiously and vigorously; both god and man moaned with pleasure. Corey drank so intensely and with such desire that his immortal cock hardened instinctively without any need for conscious, forced inducement.

But soon, as the sexual passion increased, the image of Christian began to blur in Corey’s mind and sight, the man’s physical self disappearing and replaced by an overriding image of blood—torrents of blood. The god could imagine rending the mortal apart to bathe in the delectable Ambrosia.

No. Keep it together.

As Christian cried out, his body convulsing from unbridled ecstasy beyond his limited human comprehension, perhaps more than he could take, Corey understood the man was about to orgasm.It seemed the amount of erotic pummelling Christian’s mind and body could take had reached its limit.

Timing-wise, it was for the best. Corey realized that, as he had earlier on the club’s stage, he was close to losing control and potentially doing something he would regret: killing.

Corey needed to end the game now, mindful of his potential descent into feral instinct. He hated feeling out of control, but gods more powerful than him had been driven mad by blood lust at one time or another.

The god moved off Christian’s cock before it began to spurt, the human orgasm quickly underway, and with invisible mental force, lifted the man off the ground to face him. Placing his right hand on Corey’s prick, he began to masturbate him. Then, the god opened his jaws wide and sank his fangs deep into Christian’s blood-rich neck.

Christian roared in both pain and bliss; to him, they were no longer distinguishable from one another. And as the mortal man wasgiving, his seed exploding out into the night air in a delicious eruption, the god begantaking. As cum flowed from Christian like a river of quicksilver, his blood poured from his neck into Corey’s mouth in a stream of delicious scarlet nourishment.

And the god drank his fill.

Upon Christian’s body going limp, exhausted and nearly depleted of vitality, Corey realized he was at the moment of decision; to take any more from the mortal would mean certain death for him.The god retracted his fangs and moved his mouth off Christian’s neck, allowing him to live as initially intended.

Pulling back his power, Corey gently set Christian back on the ground in a seated but slumped-over position. He telekinetically—another modern term the god understood defined aspects of his ancient power—closed up the mortal’s puncture wounds.

Falling back against a brick wall, Corey basked in the high of godly rejuvenation, the mortal blood permeating every fibre of his immortal body. The inexplicable power of the food of the gods, that extraordinary potency of human generational energy flowed through him, and for a fleeting moment, Corey felt connected to something immense but, more importantly, to someone other than himself. Yes, he felt strong and refreshed, but more importantly, he felt adored, secure, and not alone.

But no matter how rich or potent a mortal’s ichor, the transfer of their essence lasted briefly before inevitably fading away into nothingness, leaving behind only its rejuvenating quality and memory of ecstasy.

Recovered from the passion of the feeding, Corey regained his composure and stood tall, once again exuding an aura of godly power. He gazed down at the mortal man lying before him, barely clinging to consciousness.

Before Christian emerged from his stupor, Corey delved into his mind again. However, he paused just as he was about to erase specific memories of the night’s activities. The weight of his thoughtswas nearly too much for him to bear. One outrageous idea kept repeating in his mind as if taunting him.

Was he considering elevating this young man before him to godhood—an immortal companion? Was he willing to go that far? Had the absence of Olympius finally become intolerable in his life? He enjoyed his own company, but Corey could not ignore the incessant loneliness that accompanied it. Would he attempt something he had never tried before and did not know precisely how to do?

But Corey quickly squashed the idea. No man or god could ever fill the void in his heart, his very soul, left by Olympius’ absence. In tasting Christian’s blood, he discovered a genetic link to his Maker’s mortal past. Corey wondered if this faint echo of what he truly desired prompted the wild idea of transformation.

You can’t make Christian into Olympius, fool! This mortal has his true destiny to live out. You can’t rob him of that.

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