Page 16 of Altar of Flesh

Still, I trembled with shock as it pressed and prodded, trying to loosen the tightness. My eyes rolled back into my skull, and saliva leaked from my mouth. Every moment dragged on an eternity, every moment of pain carrying with it the outline of pleasure. Impaled like that on cock, I grew so weak and full of feeling that my arms dropped limply to my side, where they dragged against the wooden boards. Furcas used me. It usedme over and over like that, ramming into me, its massive cock levering my body open as it ignored my uselessly limp top half that was battling to remain conscious. I came a number of times just like that, my cock untouched, prostate pulsing, until I felt spent and slipped out of my reality to the edge of unconsciousness.

What was happening to my body seemed to be just on the right side of the outright impossible. I had no understanding of what magic was at play here; perhaps Furcas was perforating my insides as it went, and I was healing over and over. But as my body adjusted and my hole loosened, I reached a new state of being. My entire body was a hole for it to use, and I became distantly comfortable with my new reality.

If that was all I was, ifthiswas how I could worship, then I was glad for it.

As my body gave, Furcas recognised the relaxation. It grunted, satisfied, and said, “That’s it. Open for me. Open for me, whore.” It pounded down into me, and I cried out, unabashed, gleeful. “Take it. Let yourself be reshaped to my member. Let your body change; you are nothing but a toy.”

“Yes,”I cried out desperately, and as I opened my mouth, my words devolved into pleasured babbling, moans truncated by sharp intakes of breath and the beat of the demon’s cock slamming into me.

When it finally came, hot warmth spurted into my body. I shivered and moaned, my pleasure intensifying as I heard Furcas make sounds of satisfaction. I craned around. It had its head up to the ceiling, both its human hands splayed on my back. My hole squeezed and pulsed around its cock, and it made a sensitive hiss as it slipped free, wet, spent length spilling excess seed onto the floorboards. I collapsed to the ground, panting hard. Cum leaked from me. I could feel it glugging free, and myown spent cock lay limp between my legs. But something was different.

Furcas moaned and reached for me. I felt it touching me—touching something that was not my hole. Or at least, not quite.

“You’ve slipped out,” Furcas said.

My stomach plummeted. I reached back to where it was touching me. Something was. . . outside of me. The flesh there was soft and sensitive. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel it from where it had spilled.

I had—prolapsed.

A great fear came over me. I made a noise of upset and tensed, expecting pain, though none came.

Furcas came closer, hooves stomping. I thought, distantly, it was reaching to pat me as if I were a pet, but instead it gripped a fistful of my hair and wrenched me upwards. I yelled and pressed weakly at its hands, then gave up and let my body hang limply.

“Such a slut,” it said, shaking me. “Well done. I thought for sure you would break. But you pulled through even with your body like this.”

I moaned a little at its words; praise-adjacent,almosta compliment. Furcas dropped me back down to the cum-soaked boards.

Exhaustion hit me. “I still have. . .so many more demons to service.”

“Not just on your journey to Asmodeus,” Furcas murmured. “For the rest of eternity. Used over and over—that is your destiny, now that you have turned from God.”

The structure around us began to crumble. Bricks and stones neatly folded in on one another, undoing the mess of the ruined library I had climbed. Soon, there was only a rickety wooden platform upon which I stood. The outside, which had been thatred field, consisted of nothingness. A stone cliff had appeared out of nowhere. I could make it if I leapt.

The floorboards, still etched with Furcas’ sigil, glowed a pinkish red.

“Good luck, little priest,” Furcas whispered. Its form was already disintegrating, its voice as distant as ever. “And should you ever crave to learn the dark arts, call upon me.”

“Wait,” I murmured. “You can’t just—pleasedon’t leave me like this!”

I could have sworn that beneath those bushy brows, Furcas winked.

An instant later, and the demon was gone.

9

CHAPTER NINE

Ilay there feeling sorry for myself for what felt like eons.

I had never—well, I’d never encountered this before and was unsure of the risks. I waited in vain for my body to heal itself, as all things had so far in Hell, but the canal remained as it was: turned inside out, pink and raw.

After an hour or so, the feeling changed. Concern no longer bothered me. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more my flaccid cock twitched to life.

I had been used so thoroughly, so completely, that my body had broken. A demolition of my insides, which spilled out of me. It aroused me, the knowledge that my body had been reduced to this. I put my hand between my legs and squeezed my cock, deciding slowly—perhaps not even consciously—to pleasure myself lying in the aftermath of Furcas’ orgasm.

When I came, I expected the bliss to buckle to shame, as it often did. I expected pain to start up suddenly in my abdomen—but again, there was none.

Part of me thought I should try to stuff it back inside me, but another thought there were more blissful ways for that tohappen. So it was that I stood like that, sweating and flushed and prolapsed, and made my way onwards.

---