Interlude with Myth

With the sun returning, and Longnight at an end, Caiside finally had a way to use his pent up energy. He had a list of various tasks he wanted to complete, and at the very top of it was a visit to a shrine, to seek an audience with whatever God would respond to him. It was the first step to getting home, in his mind at least, and it was hard not to feel like he had wasted time already. Setting off early, Caiside followed the path Jigano had shown him. It felt like so long ago now, especially with hints of new growth peeking up through the last remnants of snow. It seemed to take him much longer as well, but that was a phenomena easily explained by his unwillingness to shift at the moment. He was still injured, and adding extra strain to his shoulder seemed like a poor choice. The glade, and the shrine it housed, rose up before him, taking Caiside’s breath away just as easily as it had the first time. It wasn’t that was it was impressive by its own merit, not compared to the wild, untamed forests of his home, but the dichotomy between the burst of nature and the wasteland surrounding it made it pop all the more. Caiside took a moment to simply appreciate the area, crouching down to run his fingers over smooth stones and earth. Caiside hadn’t come here simply for admiration though. After he had taken inhis full of the glade, he approached the stone circle, walking its circumference once to try and glean any clues of worship. Nothing jumped out at him, so he decided to simply do his best, and show all the respect he could. Shrugging out of his robes, Caiside bared his chest, and chose a flat spot just outside of the circle. He knelt, keeping his heels together to mimic the shape of the circle with his body as much as he was able. The only offering he had to give was a ring, carefully selected from the others that decorated his hand. It was the simplest he wore, a silver loop with a long black stone, forged by his hand and more meaningful to him than he could put into words. Placing it into the stone circle with the utmost care, Caiside clasped his hands together, left on top, left always on top, and lifted them above his head, ignoring the painful objections of his shoulder. ”I do not know your customs, or how to gain your attentions, but I hope what I have done will suffice.” His voice rang out clear and steady, though his eyes stayed low, focused on the ground. ”I seek an audience, or a sign. I wish to humble myself before you, and offer my most reverent services.” Woth his words said,Caiside waited, and hoped for a response. Caiside You know how it goes, this story’s been told again and again A love, pure and light, that makes stars align Well that’s not the case here

The birdsong in the glade rose to a raucous chorus as Frey appeared amidst the budding greenery. Where they stepped, life was infused anew into the plants around their feet. The grass grew in wild and untamed bushels, flowers popped, their petals spreading wide and suggestively, and the sounds of animal life around—truly the sound of animals fucking—happily sung the god's arrival. Appearing with a kaleidoscope of features, Frey would look to Caiside as the most perfected version of whatever inner fantasies the man carried. Its gender was fluid, shifting seamlessly but always pleasingly, Frey's remaining features whatever would arouse the Attuned the most. Indeed, Caiside would feel an unmistakable attraction to the deity regardless of whether he wanted to or not. Naked as they often were, Frey reached up to pluck a stem of grapes magically from the air, popping one into their mouth and crushing it with a suggestive pop. "How flexible you are." The god observed, their voice a sultry chorus. Leaning casually against a tree, their hip melding against the bark, Frey's enigmatic gaze drifted lazily over Caiside. The man had shucked his robes, but not all of his clothes. With a smile, Caiside would find himself as naked as the god was. Feeling particularly charitable now that the colder and deadly months had come and gone, Frey picked up the silver ring and lifted it to their nose. Smelling something that Caiside could be sure that his mortal senses could not have picked up, Frey turned their gaze upon him. "You have your audience, hon. What are you going to do with it? And remember, I do not like to be bored."

The birdsong and noise in the glade rose to a cacophony that could not be ignored, and Caiside knew he had been answered. His eyes lifted, slowly at first, then faster as naked wonder and desire spread over his face. He knew that gods were beautiful, of course, but none before had seemed so perfectly sculpted to his own tastes. Tall and dark, with sharp features that nearly bordered on inhuman, Caiside was left utterly speechless by the beauty that had presented itself to him. A shiver ran through him as his clothes vanished, the air's chills brushing against him, but instead of shrinking down and away, Caiside arched his back, lifted his chin, made as much of a presentation of himself as he could. He lowered his hands to sit in his lap and smiled up at Frey, feeling almost foolish for so simple an offering now, but still hoping it would be received well. When he was addressed directly, spoke to and not at Caiside trembled, all his reasons gone from him for a moment. Thoughts of his own Goddess, his Mother came to him again, reminding him of his goal of home. Caiside closed his eyes as he thought on his words, how to make them pleasing and respectful and interesting. "I was brought here, from my home, like many others I've heard. And, I am sure my reasons for wanting to return mean as little as theirs do to one like you, but... returning is still something I would like to do." Here, Caiside opened his eyes again, looked upon Frey with reverence and wonder. "I heard that we were brought here for a purpose. I would like to serve my purpose to you. I have never been the type to wait for fate or meaning, I simply wish to... grasp it and serve, however you wish me to." Caiside You know how it goes, this story’s been told again and again A love, pure and light, that makes stars align Well that’s not the case here

"Grape?" Frey asked with a tilt of their head. Should Caiside agree, the plumpest and most crisp, ripe, and firm purple grape he'd ever seen would float towards him, ready to be plucked. Frey nodded as the man spoke, their eyes trailing pathways across his body with unfettered appreciation. Still, his ruminating brought a sigh from their lips. Bending a knee to rest a naked foot against the bark of the tree, Frey plucked yet another string of grapes from the air and popped one into their mouth. This time though, they held it between their teeth, worrying it back and forth before plunging into the flesh. "It isn't so much that your reasons mean nothing, hun, more that it's outside of my jurisdiction." The god replied with a casual sway of their shoulders. "To serve me?" Frey asked with a skeptical hum upon their perfectly plump lips. Unlike their counterpart Safrin, this god had very little interest in the whims and appeals of mortals, much less their mewling and piety. "You prayed without mentioning a name at all. It is luck on your part and boredom on mine that brings me here, hun, but now you want to go and serve your purpose to me?" Frey laughed, and as they did, Caiside would find himself bound against the tree upon which Frey leaned. He'd be face forward, the tree somehow accommodating for his more outward-facing bits and curves, so that although he was star-fished against the bark, it wasn't altogether too uncomfortable. Had he taken the grape earlier though, he'd find himself with quite the hefty erection though. "Now." Frey said, pushing themselves elegantly off of the tree and twisting around to come up behind Caiside, out of his range of vision. "Tell me more about that grasping you want to do?"

Caiside accepted the grape that floated towards him with a soft noise of thanks, pressing it into his mouth and holding it on his tongue for a moment before biting through the tart skin. The flavour that erupted into his tongue nearly made his eyes water, and he did what he could to savour it for as long as possible. The treat made it easy to not be upset by the admission that Frey wasn’t able to help him home, not that Caiside thought he could be truly upset with a god, for a host of reasons. ”Luck isn’t the only reason I off-“ Caiside began, cut off by Frey’s laughter and his sudden closeness with a tree. It was easy to let himself go limp, pressed against the formed wood like a pinned butterfly, but far less easy to ignore the sudden around that had his hips moving to press against the wood, desperate for the pressure. The fact that Frey had moved out of his sight wasn’t lost on Causide either, but it had him arching his back up, expecting some kind of touch. This wasn’t the kind of service Caiside had expected t provide, had never thought quite so much of himself to imagine this situation, but it wasn’t one he could turn his nose up at either. With a breathy laugh, he leaned back, just enough that his words wouldn’t be muffled. ”Whatever I can do to serve, I will.” He took a moment to breathe, a soft moan leaving him despite his best efforts to stop it, and continued. ”Please, use me as you wish.” In any other situation, Caiside would be ashamed of his wanton desperation, but this was a very special circumstance. He was at a point where he would let nearly anything happen, just to see ho this continued. Caiside You know how it goes, this story’s been told again and again A love, pure and light, that makes stars align Well that’s not the case here

Indeed, Caiside would feel the feather-light dance of fingertips across the upper muscles of his back. Despite the fact that Frey was moving around the man's back, the trek of their fingers seemed to take an impossibly long time, as if the once-god's back was a mountain range for the current-god's fingers to traverse and map. Eventually though Frey did reach the other side, leaning against the side of the tree with an apple suddenly in their hand. From his vantage point Caiside would be able to see the jut of Frey's hip, the flat of their stomach, the way the juice from the apple dripped off of their chin. "Whatever you can do, huh hun?" Frey repeated, tossing the apple to the ground where it immediately seemed to break apart into a mulch that dissolved into the soil. "Desperate or just ignorant, that's always the questions with you mortals..." Now the finger that dragged across Caiside's back was teasing and taunting, dripping down his spine with luxurious slowness until it reached his sacrum. There Frey's finger gave a twist, and Caiside would feel pressure shoot through him unlike anything before as his hips were pressed further into the tree. The pressure would echo through his pelvis right into the core of him, ricocheting a sensual and pleasurable vibration outwards that would render speech and most coherent thought impossible for a few seconds. Trailing their finger away as if it were nothing, Caiside would be able to breathe again, though erotic need like this he'd likely never have experienced before, or probably ever would again. "But you aren't exactly mortal, are you hun?" Frey continued, as if their touch had been just that and nothing more, picking up the strains of the conversation where they'd left them. "No, but not not mortal either. What a tricky situation to find yourself in." So saying, Caiside would find his bindings growing even tighter around the tree.

The light touches on his back felt like heaven and like danger in the same breath, the mixture already heady and intoxicating without the addition of his arousal. They had Caiside all but panting, unable to resist the touch even as he knew it was simply the calm before the storm. A little whine escaped him as the fingers finished their slow crawl along his back and withdrew, leaving him completely without contact. Caiside had to turn, to look upon as much of Frey as he could, his eyes tracing up the lines from hip to stomach to chest, and then finally to the chin dripping juice. Never had Caiside so desperately wished to be devoured, to feel the bite of such power. ”I am a little bit of both, in this place.” Caiside managed to say before the return of the touches along his spine drew a soft noise from him, cutting off anything that was going to follow. He liked to think he was doing a decent job of giving in too much to the sensations being inflicted upon him, at least until a finger pressed against him, low low low on his back, and presses his hips against the unyielding tree. Every moan he had managed to cage away escaped him in one long sound, his back curving as much as he was able to. He wanted more, wanted to savour the moment,to never forget  the blood rush in his ear and the stars behind his eyes. Like anything else though, the sensation didn’t last forever. Too soon, much too soon, the pressure was gone, leaving Caiside properly desperate and panting. The confinuation of the conversation took a moment longer to actually reach him than it should have, the words heard but not understood through the fog that still wrapped around his kind. When he had properly parsed what had been said, all Caiside could respond with was a mumbled ”Not exactly, no....” If he could be more cognitive, he would ask more questions about that, how Frey knew what he was, but asnhe was there was no room in his mind for things like that. The force binding him to the tree grew tighter, making Caiside whine, and tilt his head back to try and steal another glimpse of Frey. ”Tricky is always.. fun.” The words were forced out between heavy breaths, but the suggestion of a smile was wrapped around them. The only thing even close to a fear in Caisides head at the moment was the worry that he would be left like this, unsatisfied and begging. Then again, begging might not be so bad, if it meant that he would be touched. Caiside You know how it goes, this story’s been told again and again A love, pure and light, that makes stars align Well that’s not the case here

“Mmmm how right you are. “ Frey agreed as the bonds tightened a notch more. “Always nice to meet a man who is able to admit his flaws. But flaws aren’t interesting to me, hun. What you do with and about them however..” The deity purred, trailing off slightly. Disappearing for a moment behind him, an eternity flitting through the passing seconds, Frey’s presence suddenly filled everything. Appearing behind him, Frey contoured themselves around him like a sentient and body-shaped liquid. They filled the curve of his back, the narrowing of his waist and then flowed downwards like a cape leaving his thighs and the back of his legs to experience only a tickle of them every now and again. Arms—no, wings? Feathers? Or was it skin, like a bat had?—blocked his vision on both sides as if Frey leaned against him. Their height indiscernible based on what Caiside could feel (all of their physical properties seemed entirely fluid and yet strangely fixed at the same time), as their mouth suddenly appeared against his ear. “Always?” The god wondered, their lips gently caressing the soft cartilage of his ear, their breath like a cacophony of flowering plants. All at once, Caiside would find himself lost in the dizzying metaphysics of the gods power. He’d feel as though his body was still bound in the hug-shape that it was against the tree, but suddenly he was spinning through a dark and moist tunnel, lips and tongues and teeth and the dragging of silken rags would cover and nip and stroke his body in an incalcuble array of sensory experiences that was sure to be as dizzying as it was pleasurable. Frey’s laughter wrapped around the attuned, and though he was both still bound to the tree on earth as well as spinning through this strange tunnel of tantalizing sexual touches, he would feel his terrestrial body suddenly touched by a multitude of hands. Fingers pulled at his lips, clasping around his throat in a gentle squeeze, reaching around to pull at the muscles of his chest and then to tug across his nipples. They came around his side, frustratingly close to his manhood shoved quite-literally balls deep into the wood of the tree. They pawed and fawned, slithering between his already spread legs and reaching (somehow) around the balls of his feet as well. “Would you have been so malleable if Safrin appeared? Ludo?” Frey’s voice suddenly reappeared and the tunnel through which Caiside’s (consciousness, perhaps) floated began to spin dizzingly. Their lips were against him again, though the sensation was upon both of his ears simultaneously as the hands continued to writhe. “Are you a servant, little god? Is that what you are in this world?”

The small part of Caiside that was yet to be overrun with pleasure wanted to respond, but his voice was far to busy trying to keep up with the cacophony of moans rushing out from between his lips. It had been his flaws that had landed him in this position, pressed between a tree and a god and quite literally going mad with pleasure. The liquid pressure against his back made Caiside keen, and try to roll his head back against the lips-teeth-whisper that teased him. A word he felt but didn’t understand in the moment was pressed against him, and then it seemed as if his mind split, an inescapable pleasure pressing against every part of him except where he wanted it most. Hands and silks and tongue, sharp pinpricks of teeth and nails and things he couldn’t even name, the sensations were indescribable, and impossible to pin down. Every time Caiside thought he had found one to focus on, enjoy most, another tickle would pull the thread of his attention away, until he was nearly lost in the confines of his own body and pleasure. Under it all though, there was a sense of power. He was at the centre of all of this. Frey provided it, yes, but he was the subject. It was this attitude that brought laughter to his lips, both sets that he was aware of, in response to the question. Even if he had known better, had known what to expect, he wouldn’t have called anyone different. His service would still be offered to any other divinity that graced him, but not so wholly handed over like it was to Frey. Between the two pieces his mind was in, and the ever distracting sensation on every part of his body, it took Caiside a moment to gather himself enough to speak. ”I serve,” He began, suddenly unaware of if he was speaking or thinking the words, not feeling his lips move but hearing his own voice anyway, ”but I am not a servant.” Depite his struggle to get them out, the words were backed by an iron bound conviction. He was a servant only to his own desires and whims, and he would do what he needed to see them realized. If serving a God like Frey would get him closer to his goals, to power and devotion and recognition, then he would serve happily. The fact that he could enjoy himself while doing it was only honey drizzled on top. Caiside You know how it goes, this story’s been told again and again A love, pure and light, that makes stars align Well that’s not the case here

"Is that so?" Caiside would find his lips thrust apart, the multitude of hands pulling at his teeth and tongue in a way not entirely unpleasant, if you were into that sort of thing. Suddenly he would be filled by the god. Forced to inhale as Frey's essence crashed down his throat, the attuned would find himself ravaged from the inside out. Every replicated cell was resplendent with Frey, every atom that composed him, every snippet of DNA that bespoke of who he was, was drowned in the god. "Why?" Frey's voice rang out, the harmonized low baritone and high alto of their voice echoing through this body and outwards, as if his cock was some sort of divining rod. Pleasure flashed like a lightning storm, lighting up his innermost fantasies and thoughts, the overwhelming urge to climax, to crest the wave of orgasm nearly palpable and yet unattainable. "You come here seeking an audience with anyone, wanting purpose, to serve, but not as a servant. Then as what hun? So willing to fuck and be fucked—" Caiside would feel his legs being pulled apart, the muscles and flesh of his ass being grabbed by the host of hands. "—but not to be called what you are? Then what are you, mm? What is it you want?"

Caiside sputtered and tried to gasp in a breath as fingers pried open his mouth, left him vulnerable to a force that filled him completely. Every moan, every little breathless motion he made felt like a betrayal to himself, like he was giving over more and more to this inexorable pleasure. He couldn’t keep a hold of himself; the him pressed against the tree, the him in the strange twisting dream tunnel, the him being drowned and dragged to the very edge of something, climax or consciousness or life. Why? The word seemed to echo inside him, a dozen continuations offering themselves, tearing a dichotomy into his being. Why had he not given in completely? Why was he fighting to keep a hold of some part of himself? Why had he never considered this use of power, this overwhelming flow? Hands on his legs, his back, his ass reminded him of his body, the physicality that he was still tethered to, however tenuously. What did he want? What didn’t he want? Adoration, wealth, devotion, pleasure. Caiside wanted the world. Wanted to be in the place of the god so absolutely pinning him down, to be terrible and beautiful and everything. ”Power.” Much like before, he wasn’t sure if he spoke it or simply thought it, but the word seemed to echo around his mind, giving him a thought to focus on within all of the sensation the near shattered pieces of him drowned in. Caiside You know how it goes, this story’s been told again and again A love, pure and light, that makes stars align Well that’s not the case here

"Power?" Frey repeated, a thoughtful murmur bubbling through Caiside's veins and arteries and the cockles of his heart. The chorus and crescendo of their opulent sexual luster roared through the man's entire being, flowing out through his finger tips and toes and the tip of his nose and tongue and head of his cock. The bindings would grow tighter, a gag in Caiside's mouth now where Frey had departed. The bat-like, or feathered, or demonic wings or whatever they were pulled back allowing sunlight to filter down onto the mini-gods face once again. The illustrious touches began to recede the way a tide might when there is something stronger and bigger coming, looming deep in the hidden depths of the ocean. "Power?!" Frey echoes as the hands on Caiside's body begin to slip away. The remaining finger tips grasp and scrape at the bark, trying desperately to stroke the length of his manhood still encapsulated by the tree but unable. Each fingerprint they leave is a small explosion, a mini orgasm that pulls the pressure in Caiside belly to a sharpened point, stoking the flames and embroiling him so painfully close to climax. All it would take is a tongue, one good thrust into the deep and wet places that Frey had taken him to push him over the edge and then— —"How boring." Frey suddenly hissed, departing into a cold breeze that is such a sudden and shocking departure from the enigmatic warmth of seconds ago that it sends a shiver through the attuned's body. Which, as it happens, is just enough stimulation to send him over the edge and into the dark and black pool on the other side. His orgasm is intense but unfulfilling, as he still cannot move and the spasms of his body are entirely absorbed by the unyielding wood of the tree. He cums alone and cold, and only once his own fluids have dried to the receding head of him, do the bindings fall away. How little Frey cares about power, and even less about the mortals who strive to wield it. Perhaps this will serve as a lesson to the attuned, that he should be more poignant in his prayers.