Chapter Four

The priest's hand trails lower, cupping the curve of Eugen's ass, kneading the firm flesh. Eugen shudders, a soft sound escaping him, and the priest's hand slides lower, between his spread legs.

I remember the sight of Eugen's body as he was stripped, his cock stirring where it nestled in a thatch of fine dark-gold curls, and imagine the priest's hand wrapping around his cock as he writhes, gasping and moaning. Heat rises in me. The edge of the table blocks my sight of the priest's hand, but the motion of his arm tells me what he is doing; my own imagination fills in the rest, the image of Eugen's shaft rising and stiffening flooding my mind.

Eugen bucks, moaning, his hips moving in helpless little thrusts, and I can't look away, can't escape the lust awakening in my blood. The priest strokes him faster, and his moans pitch higher, his movements growing frantic, his breath coming in hard, aching gasps.

I ache myself, my cock swelling, my balls tight and heavy, and I bite my lip to hold in a moan of my own as the pale figure sprawled against the table arches and cries out. White droplets splatter the wood and drip to the floor, and a sweet-musky scent floods the air.

The priest, disinterested in Eugen's spend, cups his ass once again, fingers digging into the rounded globes, thumbs parting his cheeks. Eugen whimpers, wheezes, claws at the table while the priest presses and probes, and I feel a strange heat well between my own clenching cheeks.

The priest withdraws his hand, leaving Eugen to collapse limp and trembling, and turns to the leader of the hunters. "This one is omega, though I do not know how much use the gods will get of him. Still, he is rightfully theirs to claim. Take him to the Temple and you will receive your lawful bounty."

Eugen is hauled upright, the hunters careless in their handling despite the promise of payment. His clothing is left in a pile on the floor, while one of the hunters unfurls a thin drape of white fabric, so thin that I can still see the flush of Eugen's softened cock through it.

I watch him stumble out, coughing, his body leaning heavily against the hunter who guides him. This is madness, this talk of omega and gods and bearing children, and yet the other man is clearly resigned to his fate.

The remaining hunters and the priest turn their attention to me, and it is my turn to submit to the priest's examination.

Just as with Eugen, the leader cuts me free of my bonds and strips my clothing away, but unlike the other man, I'm already hard and aching from what I have witnessed. My face heats with shame to have my lust revealed so blatantly, but the priest merely smiles and indicates the hunters should bend me over the table.

They do so, kicking my feet wide to give the priest better access to my body. His touch is clinical, impersonal, but my cock jumps eagerly at the feel of his hand smoothing over my ass.

"Strong, well-made, " he muses. "The gods will get far more use out of this one, if he proves blessed."

His fingers slide around my cock, grip and stroke, and my breath catches. The heat which Eugen's display awakened in me builds, flushes through my whole body, and I thrust into the priest's hand, ashamed at the eagerness with which my body responds to his touch.

My balls are heavy, aching, and I rock against the table, moaning. The strange need wells stronger, blooming outward, slick heat trickling down my cleft as my hole clenches. I need more than this, more than just touch; I need to be stretched wide, filled.

Once again my mind fills, not with visions of Eugen's cock, but with a shaft larger and inhuman, terrifying in its sheer size and yet exactly what my body craves. Pleasure tightens, peaks, and I cry out, spending myself across the priest's hand and the table, spilling until my knees tremble and threaten to buckle.

Distantly, I feel the priests hands move, cupping my ass as he did Eugen. I feel my cheeks part, feel his thumb brush over my quivering hole. My cleft is wet, slick and hot; I moan desperately as he probes the tight ring of muscle, desperate for him to breach that barrier, fill me as the imagined cock in my mind fills me.

Instead, he withdraws. "Omega," he proclaims with satisfaction. I whine and quiver as he pats my ass, impersonal as if I'm nothing but livestock. "The gods will be pleased with this one."

"He'll surely bear up better under their use than the weakling," Garik sneers.

I hear mutterings of disappointment from his men, and then I'm being dragged upright, my body shivering with need beneath the bruising grip of their hands.

My clothing stays in a pile on the floor. Instead, another of those long, see-through drapes of white cloth is wrapped around my hips; my cock, already hardening again, presses dark and flushed against the fabric, the display more obscene than if I'd been left naked.

Outside, the square is crowded, the townsfolk whispering and staring as the hunters drag me out. I burn with humiliation as the hunters make a production of stroking their hands over my skin, their mocking comments loud in the silence.

"A fine bitch for the gods," Garik announces. His voice booms loud across the square, and to my shame my cock stirs, his touch and lewd commentary inflaming the strange, fierce heat in my blood, until I can't tell whether the tears that blur my vision are of shame or need.

Their duty in the town done, the huntsmen lead me to where a heavy enclosed wagon awaits. The huntsmen load me into the rear, the light from outside barely illuminating an austere space with padded benches fastened to the walls. Eugen is already there, huddled on one of the benches, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His pale face turns toward me, and his breath sounds raspy and harsh.

The hunters close us in and I fumble in the darkness to sit opposite Eugen. The sound of his ragged breathing aches in my own chest, and I wonder why I care. Perhaps it is fear of the uncertain future facing us, or my own loneliness, but somehow being tested together, seeing his body react as mine did, has formed a bond between us.

The carriage starts with a jolt, and the dust which swirls in through the narrow windows sets Eugen coughing. I wince at the ugly sound, wondering if he'll even survive the journey, let alone whatever the gods demand of him.