Chapter 6

The altar has been completed and Marshall has worshiped just like the book has instructed. His changes have ceased. Nothing more grows. The last change he experienced was his voice. Just as he no longer looks like a man, he no longer sounds like one. He figures that since he still has a cock, it means it will be used to please his master. All this time, sucking and fucking the Big Black has been a means to degrade him into submission. But to be cut off from it after having a taste of it would be the greatest torture that he could endure.

Whatever the future holds, he is ready for it. Setting his pen down and closing his journal, he stands and walks over to the altar. The artifact, which looks like a limp cock, begins to swell like it has a life of its own. It gets thicker and longer, more so than it has been since Marshall has been in possession of it. Within a few more seconds, it becomes fully erect, completely hard and is now sticking straight out at him.

Marshall drops to the floor before it. Hungrily he raises his mouth to it, opening it as much as he can. His tongue slips out, longer and stronger, as an invitation. It bobs up and down with a pulse of its own. The moment it enters his mouth he greedily gobbles it down as far as the wall allows access to it. He slobbers all over it, getting it wet so that his lips will slide back and forth over it with the greatest of ease. The heat that comes from it is unreal, like a loaf of bread fresh from the oven.

Marshall mashes his head against the altar, pushing his straining lips as far down as they will go. He sucks on it hard, trying to draw more length in. It slips down his throat, making him gag and gurgle on it. He gags so loudly that it sounds like he is being strangled. And just when he thinks that this is going to be the same as it was been the last few days, he is severely wrong.

Suddenly a pair of hands comes out of the altar to grabs his head, forcing it harder into the wall. He can feel his lips being forced more down. Then the wall goes soft, like flesh. It is soft and supple and allows him to take even more down his throat. Marshall doesn’t realize the his master has been summoned, that the altar has acted as some kind of portal to allow her over to his side, until he feels a slow, rocking motion. He is being fed the cock now, very slowly and very rhythmically. It goes deeper and deeper, over and over, deeper and deeper. And then she let’s go. Marshall flies backward, landing roughly on his ass.

“Master?” he gasps. The creature is unlike anything he could have imagined. She is more beautiful than anything he has ever seen. “Master, I’m so happy to finally see you.”

The creature leans in to hug him like a long, lost lover. The embrace is so warm ... so loving ... so splendid...

Marshall is taken. His mouth is filled with her tongue. It takes over, wrapping his tongue in hers. It feels so natural. It feels like they have been at this for so long, they know one another inside and out. When she comes away, it is wordlessly. She turns back toward the altar and suddenly it splits in two. Two doors that swing open and outward. Marshall misunderstood the book. He wasn’t summoning her to stay here with him, to live in his world, in the place he built for them. He was summoning her for her to take him to her world.

She steps back onto it and Marshall follows. And the sights he sees are like nothing he has ever imagined—nothing he could imagine. He sees things that he had only read of or seen pictures of in books. He sees things that are incomprehensible to the mind, things he cannot explain or even begin to. It is a world full of lust and love. They pass by creatures and humans—kissing, licking, sucking and fucking. There is no judgement here, not bitterness, no contempt. Marshall feels good about this place. He feels like he belongs. Most of all, he feels love. Love for his master and nobody else.

He is taken to a place away from all others. The sounds of lustful sex are carried through the air, but they are in a place of privacy. At least this is the feeling Marshall has. Anyone or anything there can simply look and see them—watch them. But they don’t. They are too engrossed in their own play with one another or his master somehow commands them to be. She doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t feel that words would justify the feeling between them. Words aren’t needed.