When an incubus and his harem are infiltrated by the escaped sacrifice of an infamous cult, should they keep him to join the harem's ranks? Or should they throw him back to the cultists and risk bringing about the end of the world as they know it?
Warnings: Non-con & Dub-con, Graphic sexual content (anal, oral, BDSM, etc.), Homosexuality (m/m), Underage sex, Mild torture, abuse, & violence, Polygamy, and Harsh language.
The night air was cool. It soothed Nyklas' heated skin, giving him the only source of comfort in that moment as the hot body on top of him shoved him harder into the ground.
"Stop squirming, dammit!" A voice growled in his ear before a harsh punch to his side stilled him.
The boy sucked air into his burning lungs and laid still, his eyes closed and his teeth clenched tight from the pain in his aching ribs. The sound of drums in the distance seemed to match the rhythm of his pounding heart thumping in his ears. His body was being used yet again, for the sixth time that night. And the party had just begun.
"Fuck!" The man cursed with his release, filling Nyklas' body up with more foul semen, making him shudder.
His face was suddenly pressed into the dirt, scratching his bruised cheek and cutting the inside of his mouth, flooding his tongue with more blood. A low chuckle reached his ringing ears as the man used his head to push himself to his feet.
"Damn. Best little hole to fuck."
"And he puts up a fight every damn time. Perfect little toy."
"You said it."
Fingers fisted in Nyklas' tangled brown hair and yanked him up to his knees harshly. He bit back the cry of pain that tried to escape his mouth and glared up at the two cult members leering at him. He spat a mouthful of blood at the closest of the two, spattering the man's robes. The back of a ringed hand caught his face, viciously snapping his head to the side before yanking him back by his hair once more.
"Still feisty after all this time. You would have thought he'd have given up after this long..."
"It's not in their nature. Spawn of Nyx will die fighting, struggling until their last breath."
"Makes one hell of a fuck, that's for sure."
Nyklas winced as he was hauled to his feet by his hair. The man shoved him forward, towards the cage in the back of the dark tent they were in.
"Back in your cell, wretch," the man snarled, throwing the boy through the open door.
Nyklas landed hard on his side, the metal bars beneath him biting into his tender ribs. He weakly crawled to the back of the small cage and curled up in the corner as the door was slammed shut and locked. He glanced up at his tormentors, unable to tell them apart from the previous ones who had come for him only minutes ago; all of the bastards looked the same to him. The men gazed down at him with lust filled eyes for a few seconds before they turned and left the tent, chatting idly about the upcoming ceremony.
The young human let out a shaky breath and leaned his aching head back against the cool metal enclosure, closing his eyes for a moments rest. He knew more would come soon to defile him yet again, their celebrations were something he'd had to experience before. The night would be filled with the sounds of laughter and chanting, the air smelling of ale and roasted boar. And Nyklas' body would be filled with the agony of dozens of rapes and beatings that he knew would occur.
The youth listened to the drums as they rose to a thundering volume, the sound of chanting echoing the noise. A tempting smell wafted into the tent as a gentle breeze fluttered a loose side. His stomach growled uncomfortably and clenched from hunger pains, making Nyklas curl up into a tighter ball.
He groaned in discomfort and spat out another mouthful of blood, the taste making him feel sick. How long had it been since he'd last been given food? He couldn't remember. He only hoped one of the bastards would throw him scraps at the end of the night; hopefully he would be able to eat with the large amount of cum that he was sure would be in his belly.
Just the thought made him retch and double over. He spat more blood onto the ground beneath the cage, staining the dirt black. As always his mind drifted to escape. Perhaps if he could dig a hole underneath the cage... He shook his head harshly to extinguish the foolish idea. He had tried to escape hundreds of times within the past few months and all of his attempts had ended with him being caught and then whipped. The fresh scars on his back stung dully from the thought and he sat up quickly to relieve the pain.
It was hopeless. He would never escape the cult. They would carry out their plans and in two weeks, on the night of no moon, Nyklas would be turned into a rotting corpse, his broken body bled of every last drop of blood. "The Sacrifice", that was what they called him. The leader's resonate voice always echoed in his head long after it was spoken. "Spawn of Nyx", "Eros slut", "The Key to the Darkness". He knew not what any of those names meant, he just knew that he suffered because of them. Endless agony day after day... For the very first time in the many months of captivity with these monsters, Nyklas found himself wishing for his death to come sooner.
The sound of scuffing boots outside of the tent caught his attention. He sat up straighter and pressed his back into the bars, prepared to be yanked out and raped yet again. A man stepped into the dark space, his face illuminated by a small lantern in his hand. His eyes were glossy from drunkenness and his footing was unsteady. He grinned at Nyklas as he walked further into the tent.
"Seems you get a break, little one." The man slurred. "The feast has begun and I was ordered to only keep a watch on you, not to touch you. Not until The Elder can perform the ritual cutting of your flesh."
Nyklas glared at the drunk man, but felt weakened by the dread of future pain that suddenly sat heavy on his chest. He looked away from the man's lustful gaze and bit his lip to stop from crying; he had stopped making noise for these bastards long ago since it seemed to please them so much to hear him scream and sob.
"Too bad..." The man continued, leaning against the post in the center of the area that held the tent upright. "I was looking forward to some one-on-one time with you," he murmured longingly.
Nyklas perked up slightly at the sound of the man's voice, an idea suddenly forming in his head. He squinted at the cult member in the dim lighting, trying to make out his face. Would it work...?
The boy let out a slow breath and focused his thoughts on a warm feeling that seemed to burn inside his core. He allowed the warmth to flow through his body and a calmness swept over him. It had only worked once before in his life and he prayed he could somehow make it work again tonight.
"Come closer..." Nyklas whispered. His own voice surprised him when it left his lips, the sultry sound seeming to echo around him.
The man hesitated only momentarily before taking the few steps to put him right against the bars. He kneeled down and looked in at the trapped boy with glazed eyes. Nyklas summoned all of his courage and forced himself to crawl across the cage floor in a seductive manner, using that warm feeling inside to guide him in his actions.
"I've been waiting for you all night..." Nyklas murmured softly, pressing his body against the cold metal. "I knew you would come..." He whispered, reaching through the bars to brush his fingers across the man's robed chest.
The older male's breath caught in his throat as Nyklas' hand touched him, his eyes widening and pupils dilating.
"Y-you did?" He stammered out, subconsciously leaning closer to the youth.
Nyklas nodded, smiling coyly.
"You've always been my favorite. You make me feel things the others never have," he whispered seductively.
The man nodded, moving even closer.
"I've always tried to be gentle with you, Sacrifice. You're so small and fragile..." He spoke regretfully, reaching into the cage to stroke the boy's bruised cheek.
Nyklas lowered his eyes, gazing up at the man through his lashes.
"Will you make love to me before they come for me? Please...?" He spoke in a tempting whisper, amazed yet again at the sound of his own voice.
The man was too far lost in the effect Nyklas had on him, so he didn't hesitate to unlock the door. He helped the boy step out of the cage and stand, then immediately leaned in for a passionate kiss. Nyklas met the man's hungry mouth with his own and quickly went into action.
He searched within the man's robes, letting his hand linger as if he were feeling the male's body. A brief flicker of anxiety broke through the warmth inside of him as he worried the man didn't have one - but then he found it. He wrapped his hand around the hilt of the dagger and slowly pulled it from its sheath as the man stayed distracted with Nyklas's tongue. He waited for the perfect moment, then drove the blade into the man's side.
Nyklas' quickly stepped back as the man fell to his knees, clutching his abdomen. The cult member's wide eyes looked up at the boy in confusion just as the knife was plunged into his chest.
Nyklas stumbled away and tripped to land on his hip, gasping for breath as the warmth left his body in a rush, leaving behind a numbness that made him feel dazed. He stared at the deceased man, unable to believe that his plan had worked. Now he just had to run.
He struggled to his feet, panic beginning to flood his senses. He needed to go. Now. But which way? He started for the exit, but quickly turned back to the body slowly bleeding out on the floor. He struggled to maneuver the robes off of the corpse, but once he had, he quickly pulled the blood soaked material on to cover his naked body.
The loose side of the tent faced the forest, Nyklas knew that much, so he hurriedly crawled underneath the flap. He paused as he carefully sat up and looked around. There were no other cult members keeping watch this time, they were all feasting, the boy could hear their loud laughter just a few yards away on the other side of the tent where a blazing fire lit up the entire encampment. Nyklas stayed low to the ground and darted into the darkness of the trees. As soon as the light of the camp began to dim, he started to run. And he didn't stop.
He had done it. He had escaped.
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