The Broken Altar

“What a perfect sacrifice.”

Her voice startles Patri out of his meditation. Goosebumps dance along his skin as phantom fingertips brush his naked thigh.

The chamber was empty, but he knew…

“Mistress.”

The word leaves him in a croak. He was prepared for this, but no amount of preparation could stave off the nerves at having summoned the Damned Queen. Tobias’s warnings came to mind.

Do not look her in the eyes when she reveals herself.

Patri never asked why, but tried to hold the warning even as the edges of his thoughts began to grow fuzzy.

“Stand. Remove your garments and offer yourself to me.”

Her words vibrated in his chest. He rose, working steady himself as the chamber swayed. Once his vision cleared, he froze. She stood, naked but no less fierce for it. Black hooves led up to shapely calves. Muscled thighs and a nipped in waist. And up further to breasts that would fit perfectly into his hands. Her skin blazed red and her black hair whipping around her face. He dropped his eyes before he made the mistake of looking into her eyes.

A sharp sting along his side drew a gasp from him. He saw the blood staining her claws and felt it as it soaked through his tunic.

“Offer yourself, or I will be most displeased.”

He quickly shed his tunic and light breeches. Naked, he moved to the altar and laid down on it.

“Very good. Now you’ll please your queen.”

She wrapped the clawed hand around his cock, smearing blood along the shaft as she pumped up and down. He made sure to keep his eyes tightly shut even as she chanted an incantation that filled the chamber with sound.

Her hand was rough, the nails piercing his skin, adding more blood. In spite of it all, or because of it, he grew hard in her hand. He found himself at the brink as his come seemed ready to explode from his body. His hips rose of their own accord, ready to give his offering.

A hand squeezed at the base of his cock. He cried out, tears streaming down his face at the pain.

She laughed as she alight upon the altar and sheathed his cock with her hot cunt. Her hand went around his throat, cutting off his air as she rocked against him.

“The Queen receives this sacrifice. The Queen takes her due.”

The words in his head didn’t match the chants spilling from her lips.

He was held suspended. His cock in a hot vise, his balls pulled tight against his body, but his release out of reach. She held him in the throes of painful passion as she rode to her climax.

When she came, the whole room shook. Framed artwork crashed to the ground and the stone slab beneath him cracked.

Gasping for breath, he tried to say his required supplication. The grip on his neck was too tight for any words.

Something called to him, beckoning him to open his eyes for her. Promising him an eternity in her arms. Promising him everything.

Two things occurred when he opened his eyes. He blew his load, filling her cunt with a glut of semen just as her soulless black pupils sucked his spirit from his body.

Even in death, his hips rose to meet hers, giving up every last drop of his essence to her.

She winked out of that dimension with a smile on her face, leaving him on the broken altar. When they found him hours later he was gray-skinned, his eyeless sockets staring.