Pagan Gods: Of Brotherhood and War

[From the original text in Demotic Greek:]

In the sylvan grove’s sacred circle lies the broken body of a hirsute supplicant: loyal general unmanned, now cast aside after being slain by the god who used him, for such is the fate of sacrifice!

Reflected in a pool of steaming blood, two figures crouching, soon to battle...

Male member torn from glossy bull, from it flowed a sliver of viscous ink. Become cloud of fog, spreading, vile, liquid, black… a section of the stone circle blots out — And from it steps the whirlwind! Basilisk, metal-masked, multiple, malevolent. And facing the Beast, his adversary, the sated god, Gaius, green, complacent, gorged, sated on the selfless sacrifice of worshippers, rocked by their hymns and litanies.

05:26 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: "I feel you weaken when I weave spells of ancient words... your strong wish to kneel and serve!"
05:30 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: Hrghn...
05:31 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: "Hah! even now you fall! Think of it... I will give you dominion over woods when they are petrified, choked with rising smoke. All will worship you, when I am absent!"
05:32 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: "Mayhap in the spiritual plane, such delusions can be entertained...as you briefly gain the upper hand in this contest of wills...I will go down fighting..."
05:33 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: "Possibly your submission will be unseen... for history does not always record the truth..."
05:35 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: "My defiance silenced...my will extinguished? The dominant Father made to yield? it would be a mighty victory for you...are you potent enough to win it?"
05:38 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: "My great flesh sword dangles as clear evidence -- the screaming armies of the enslaved roil round me like a wreath of smoke."
05:39 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: "Such an aura I have never felt before...it intoxicates
05:39 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: No...I am the potent one...I must...defy."
05:43 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: "Come here and I will bind you; lean against this stone..."
05:44 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: I approach the stone, wary, yet intrigued...slowly, like a shy deer, I come and lean against the stone, eyes on you, my manhood swinging between my strong, slender legs...
05:45 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: gently I bring your arms up over your head, an X, secured to the upper corners of the slab that leans at incline
05:46 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: My smooth pits release their scent lightly...my eyes fixed on your form, my cock slowly rising.
08:06 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: "I will tell you the fate of many whom I conquer, and by my speaking will it be made real..."
08:07 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: Hrghn...
08:07 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: "my hand on your sternum pushes back. then I kick legs open, massaging the ball bag of the god, working it so that balls push up into the natural harbor in the trunk of the body, and a stiff leather rectangular strip fitted over, to hold them. Straps at each corner, tied secure round the victim's legs that despite his great hanging cock, the god may feel what it is like to be a eunuch slave..."
08:08 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: "over... EMPTINESS where once were his jeweled treasury, his arsenal..."
08:09 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: I pant and moan, eyes closing and lips quivering as you spiritually castrate me...feeling my orbs hidden within me....as though my manhood were lost!
08:10 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: "You feel the pull of evil. Admit you are aroused to serve a demon in such a state..."
08:12 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: My wistful sigh and tightly clenched eyes betray me...as does my foot long shaft proudly rearing, yet with a tremble...
08:13 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: I raise both arms high in triumph, my great bludgeon phallus sways as I proclaim victory.
08:13 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: "SERVE ME NOW!"
08:14 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: above roiling clouds churn and spin... flashes of lightning green and red...
08:15 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: The dark aura rises to a pitch, swirling round me, assaulting my divine manhood with invisible hands! With a cry of a hunted deer, I erupt! My sacred seed spurting by the command of another!
08:17 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: YES, this god is turned. He will be led on a leash, balls hidden, tamed. He will be shown to those who once revered him, himself, with his long dripping wand, become a mockery of godhead...
08:18 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: My antler crown hanging low as I crawl on hands and knees...
08:21 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: Still holding the leash I turn that you may swear fealty to what now rules you, my great thyrsus, demon cock whose single eye strikes fear into all that see it.
08:24 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: Here me mock you, former god, who once unmanned then penetrated your loyal general offering up himself... so now will you experience his fate. Great Punishment requires that both blade and hilt of the sacrificial knife be known...
08:24 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: I moan like a struck deer before your sceptre...green eyes transfixed as my lips betray me and praise your virility...
08:27 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: Head made dire by my great metal helm, arms and shoulders protected by amulets, the rest of me unveiled, ready to wreak vengeance on the god, to proclaim misrule, to turn the wheel so that demons become gods and gods are punished!
08:30 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: Humiliated, wondering if my antlers will survive...and how it will feel to taste your bitter blade. How could my defiance be so stilled? My mind in confusion as my cock leaks...the gaze of my former worshippers and your many demons burning upon me.
08:33 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: My hand placed on your lower back...as if somehow reconciling you to your new state, and then I reach to grasp one set of antlers on your head. In my other hand a curved saw, fine-toothed. Hear its sound as the work begins...
08:36 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: Green sparks fly as you saw and grind my valiant crown...I moan, shivering, finally feeling the snapping break...an antler broken off in your hand, the hunter's trophy, proud prey broken!
08:37 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: Then speaks the God, remaking worlds: “Slopes of Olympus, grown with laurel, yarrow, rosemary... there did Gods and Demons strive. Each fist gloved in leather, studded with runestones, two boxers unleashing blows like waves of light and darkness drumming on the ocean shore.”
08:38 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: "Two contend with high might and strife, but I will mark the godly body with my fist, leave a trail of gruesome letters. The Father's body bruised and beaten to a pulp!
08:39 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: "But I will dent your helmet in, crush you before me...demon drunk and bloodied by hard fists."
08:40 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: The Demon counters: "yet in secret, you fall to me... Former-god, humiliated with antlers sawn... I feel you wanting..."
08:43 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: In the midst of battle, dancing from foot to foot, the god, voices thoughts against his will. "I shall not deny I love being boxed...being punch drunk...being taken..."
08:44 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: Still thoughtful, the god looks at his own fists, "The father prides himself a fighter and boxer...see his proud knuckle dusters..."
08:44 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: "But against a helmeted foe..."
08:44 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: "Yes at last you recognize...you fight the urge to kneel...admit it!"
08:46 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: "You see true...I have always wanted a worthy opponent such as you..."
08:46 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: I flex my great arms in demonic pride hearing the god speak words which by definition become real.
08:47 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: I put on the gloves, stepping from one foot to the other in the great circle
08:47 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: and you face me, also gloved, the runes on each knuckle but...with balls still trapped..and glorious antlers curtailed...
08:48 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: "Do you wish to mash runestones against this handsome face?"
08:48 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: "Yes, the cheek and also the smooth flank, the upper abdomen...each blow leaves behind a string of characters spelling doom in different languages, the many names of tortures that end with your gelding and beheading... "
08:50 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: The god fights back, voicing the music of growing things, taunting the demon, stoking lust forth the god's supple and proud body.. "How you enjoy my slender strength, how you too worship me! My words of power, from forest stones, will stamp your evil flesh..."
08:56 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: UNH! you land a blow... I look down... the rune burns on my chest.... Unwise, blinded by pride... for a moment my guard lowered and you saw it... I shift my stance, raise my fists again, lunge out. The blow like a striking viper, that tamps your flank with a new word of horror....
08:58 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: My crown destroyed, my eyes flare with defiance once more...my cock swinging but my proud balls humbled, I am wroth! Demons watch as I throw forth my fists...runestones on my glove flare with green light, and I hook the dire helmet, blasting it to the right, then the left, then an uppercut!
09:05 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: Spit flies as the blows land, I reel. This god tries to take back the upper hand. Shocked from complacency, now, as he is humbled, as he is insulted, the anger is gone to his head. I gather up my strength again, narrow eyes, looking for an opening... I dance, circle, cock bouncing ... There! like lightning a strike toward the face!
09:08 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: Dark runes flash with power and you mash your hard fist into my face! Spit flies...a deep rumble issues from my pecs. "Many times have I traded fists with dark beasts...it shall take much to humble me in this arena!" My fist flies out to drill your exposed abs, burning runes searing green, another into your obliques, stones smacking ribs. Blood drips from my lips as I glare back at you, lightly panting.
09:16 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: Roaring: But my power is legion, formless, shifting like a sandstorm, and I lean close, grip you, begin pummeling you, a firestorm of punches from both fists to both your kidneys.... feel how close is your enemy... t images, stories, wings, whirling chaos, hail of arrows. The runes spell long lists of penalties to be imposed. Hard labor for a god... building temples and idols to me once I have won.... The sudden blow blasts into your belly.
09:18 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: A swirl of images of me as beast of burden, head spinning...a storm of hard blows, then a deep blow to my abs, my brick wall drilled into with a fist of dark power. Green fire spurts from my mouth as I gasp, one arm wrapped around your shoulders for support, eyes staring into your helmet as I am stunned for a second...
09:21 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: I lean into my enemy's vulnerability, push forward, poking with my great demon cock against the leather that traps your sacred orbs. The pain searing like a red flame... I feel you crumple as it overtakes you... The god falls and will be punished further!
09:22 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: You grind into the trapped wellspring of my virility... compressed and tortured! I cry out, falling to one knee, face level with your cock and abs, humiliated, one fist on the ground for support.
09:25 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: A wave of adrenaline coursing over me - I see the chance and take it.... to humiliate the god... WHACK my cock across his self-serious face... and WHACK it back in the other direction, then KICK him to the ground... KICK again against the trapped wellspring of his manhood and see his cock recoil from the blow, knowing that pain screams up his tree of nerves. "YOUR TIME IS OVER!"
09:29 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: My head is tossed side to side in pain...your cock humbling me with clublike blows, my manhood kicked...I roar out and kick at your thighs, driving you back and standing on shaking legs, manhood aching. You proclaim my time an end...my eyes and runes glow, abs and pecs striating as I bellow my defiance, and hurl myself back into the fight as a wild animal!
09:30 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: My blows scrape your helmet, green sparks flying as my hooks crash into it, now raised to defend my face, throwing the last of my power into offense as we trade fists to the face, cocks clubbing each other below!
09:36 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: Like two poles of a magnet, demon and god locked in battle. Bodies drenched in sweat and dotted with runes -- fists fly, blows thudding home on both sides... what sense is there to oppose the storm wind? The god begins to falter.... or a wave of flame? Shall we devastate the wide earth, upend its stones? Or will you offer yourself as victim and receive the punishment you have awaited over eons? I am a reptile shooting out its tongue. I uncurl my fist. With long sharp fingers I slash the chest of the god "Let the divine powers return to your father, your begetter. Let your name be NULL"
09:39 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: Our blows crash against the other, god and demon locked in furious, merciless exchange...sending more than hard fists smashing against the other's head. The worshippers watch, awed...for a long moment, there is nothing but hudding and thundering, an even contest.
09:41 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: My stones dent and scratch and spark against your helmet. Your runed fists slam into my ironwood cheeks and chin and jaw, well-used to combat. But your helmet protects your hidden demon face, my own eyes beginning to swell...cheeks to dent...lips to split...nose to drip...the exchange slowly turning against the defiant one, who sweats and breathes hard...
09:47 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: I am the whirlwind. None can resolve my motion into single blows -- a cloud, a plague of locusts, onslaught, wall of flame. "Worshippers, hurry to set up your shrines! This hornless god will be penetrated and replaced! Destroy his life! Let the wind scatter pieces of him in all directions. Cut off his wing tips. Strike them off left and right. Enter him, ruin the prince of flowers, end him!" The god has only seen such visions in his darkest nightmares. Behold he slows and falters....his beauty bruised and damaged.
09:53 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: The preparations to the temples and shrines are made! The banners, flags and runners of green cloth, the vestments of leaves and silks, are given over to sacrificial flames...the fire and smoke, black and red of the Basilisk, reigns high and proud over the holy battlements, the temples and shrines desecrated and therefore re-consecrated. The hymns of darkness go up, spiritual might and worship attuned to the dark one swirls around. I moan in the midst of our war, feeling the tide turn...for every two blows that dents your dark metal, I take three that dents my flesh...your blows and your magic both spin my head, making my vision glaze...all can see the green god slowly take the worst of the exchange! The dark song goes up, the Basilisk's victory nears!
10:04 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: The god is tarnished, ruined... Spit flies as yet another blow lands and an armed fist smashes into his jaw... His face now a mesh of rune prints. Green light drowns in red, and bruises form like continents adrift... He stumbles, reels, falls and the demon continues to advance... each step relentless, each step closer to the edge of the cliff from which the god will plunge into oblivion and servitude... and the demon gives NO QUARTER and the rain of blows falls again like hard hail clattering, breaking the divine body and ending the father's rule.
10:08 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: Darkness and fury rain down upon me, swirl all around me....cloud my vision and break down my warrior spirit. I am forced back, face seared and marked, swollen and purple, dripping with green blood...the sky darkens with red an I moan and pant. The tide turns against me...I smash but cannot shatter your mask, while my face takes the brunt of an empowered demon's wrath. My crown taken, my manhood stifled, I cannot muster the fight I would give... My face and body take too much damage at long last, and my assault ends, the proud Father bending one knee against his will, to the cries of all around! My breathing is hard, and my fiery green eyes glare through swelling up at you. My biceps flex and I slowly bring up my arms to throw a swing...
10:05 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: Weakly the god lifts his fist, only to feel his windpipe crushed in the grasp of the demon Basilisk. Throat firmly held, the Father wheezes… and recoils under unremitting rain of blows that thump his belly walls. And with this onslaught, the fist of Baselisk leaves record of destruction in right hook knuckle runes… the god’s glorious abdomen becomes a soft clay tablet upon which is written epic tragedy.
Shriveled in overwhelming pain, the god’s virility judders with each blow. This the demon sees, his right arm continues with the drubbing while his own great pole rises to full mast… The god’s belly beaten to a pulp.
10:08 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: My arms rise to throw a blow...panting hard, face bruised, I try desperately to strike my indominable foe. My slender throat is gripped, and I am lifted up, legs kicking uselessly. The fist of my foe slams like a crashing wave into my abdominals, wearing down the stone. My proud wall of eight bricks being rammed and drilled, demolished by the onslaught of evil, runes impacting and imprinting dark spells upon my defiant muscles, the wall of the green god forced to crumble!
A long moan escapes me as at long last, my hard core is breached, twitching muscles spasming weakly around the deeply sunken fist that grinds deep within me...I am allowed to fall to my knees, panting hard...my throat gripped again.
10:08 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: I bring my hands up to break your hold, but my two hands cannot overpower your one, and my face looks up at you with green eyes, to receive your punishment...your brutal fist mashing the face of the forest king!
Delicate features slowly moulded painfully, bruises, swellings, cuts and drippings...breath hard and eyes glazed and unfocused. My fists slowly slide off your arm, falling limply to my side...unable to throw a punch, unable to fight.
10:08 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: Shamefully, my cock throbbing and twitching, from the breaking of my core to the shattering of my proud visage. Having your fill of destruction, you hold up a fist for all to see...songs of darkness pouring crimson power into it from red storm above, and worshipers all around.
10:08 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: The meteor of red slashes across the heavens, arcing low, then arcing upwards again...an uppercut that thunders and explodes, shaking heaven and earth, sending me flying with a pulse of bloody light.
10:08 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: Green blood, my spit and sweat, all go flying from my face as I am blasted to soaring, a tragic arc traced as I come crashing down on my back, cratering the soil...eyes glazed and unseeing, chest barely rising...my rune gloves and fists lying open and limp.
10:08 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: The Father of Virility, Sower of Seed...thrower of fists in long battles against the darkness...has fallen in battle. His defeat total and utter. His defiance stilled, his flesh conquered.
I lie in wait, uncomprehending...
09:25 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: The Father brought low! Pummeled, bruised, broken… lying on the ground, while above, stepping like a rooster, arms raised like wings… Basilisk is Victor! and another kick to the fallen god, across his face! … the Demon’s long cock bounces. Then he firmly plants a foot on his opponent’s chest, bruised, cut, with chaotic marks of runes. “IT IS ENDED!”
A shock wave ripples out across the clearing… above branches shake and clatter… a blast of wind hurls down leaves.
10:05 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: Below torches send out lurid light, flicker red and green. The victor’s mask has subtly changed, metal mouth frozen open in a grimace of pride. He rides a chariot, drawn by six naked worshippers of the former god. All firmly plugged by punishing phallic objects, they strain in leather harnesses, slowly dragging the chariot toward a stage, into the light of a ritual bonfire. Behind the chariot a cart is pulled in which, strapped to four corners of a square frame, is the brutalized figure of the naked Father.
10:05 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: Face swollen, the god stands, yoked at neck and wrists, bruised body secured in place by a thick leather belt. Lashed to floor and sides of the cart, it forces him to a slight crouch, spreading arms and legs like a crab. Metal clamps bite his chest. Freed of the trap, his balls are roped diagonally down to each end of a lower bar, and a noose hoists cockhead up to expose divine scrotum spread below.
10:05 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: With his one eye not puffed closed, the Father is forced to stand and watch the mayhem – Witness the displacement of a god: catastrophe far deeper than any worldly revolution …Thick smoke rises from former sacred groves, as the sanctuaries of the deposed god are put to the torch by the armies of the Conqueror. The last of the faithful are first penetrated before having genitals ripped away by demon soldiers. Disillusioned worshippers topple statues of the god, tearing off all sign of his exaggerated masculinity.
10:05 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: And when they behold their enslaved Enemy like a captive bull on the cart, a rustle of excitement runs through the mixed assembly of victorious demons and fallen former worshippers. They see the god of seed pulled by the strength of his surviving loyal worshippers. They see how those worshippers are humiliated in service to this cruel and unworthy tyrant. Captives and victors alike yell for the tyrant’s final punishment.
10:08 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: My manhood strapped and tamed, my groves and temples destroyed and followers ruined or converted, I am drawn by my mightiest generals, reduced to beasts of burden...a parade of humiliation for the fallen green god! I low and thrash weakly, disoriented by the Basilisk's power and dominance...stunned and unbelieving, almost bestial as I am pulled towards my final defeat and humiliation.
10:05 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: The enemy is taken from the cart and led, still yoked, onto the stage. Beside him stands the Basilisk caparisoned as Death. Other demons kneel, fiddling at the prisoner’s belt and yoke. The enemy is pulled back to his crablike crouch as Death intones the account of the fallen god’s former evils and unjust debaucheries.
When Death-Basilisk’s story turns to the victorious capture of this vicious godhead, he reaches down to play the full balls of his lithe enemy. Above the yoke holding his wrists, the god’s swollen face grimaces. Perfect picture of a tyrant defeated, his penis rises to erection.
As the story touches how Death breaks and enslaves the tyrant, another yoke is fitted round the god’s full balls. Secured by the thick leather belt, the yoke slats behind the green one’s hips, pulling his manhood downward.
When the story tells how the tyrant hungers for his own defeat, winches slowly lift the Enemy’s ankles, splaying his legs, lowering his head until he hangs inverted on the stage. Upside down, he faces the audience, blood rushing to his head. He is still erect, his balls still held tight in their smaller yoke.

Interruption

Here a substantial marginal note in the same hand as the rest of the manuscript, likely some monk who wrote after the collapse of an empire…wondering which is seed-sower and which basilisk. The note reads:
==
"Whoever you are that of necessity must read this book,
I feel a strong impulse to go apart and weep aloud.
For the land is convulsed by strife, wars of belief, or questioning
Of those who know truth, of those lost in falsehood.
The many who rally behind the dark one, the helmeted one
Strong with his militias, strong in his wrong beliefs…
That the Basilisk is Gaius! (To write such blasphemy… I rend my garments)
For I too have found ancient writings that bring doubt…

O the blisters on my hands,
The strange interest of these days,
The dead yet curious album,
Pledge, remembrancer, memento,
The sheath, the vast eternal realm,
The glistening boughs, the scenery of the soul.

(and in the book I found was written:)
For the god-sun is not alone in the pleroma, being surrounded by a dualistic darkness that gathereth itself together.
The god-sun is not a single god, but a god and a devil, as is that which surroundeth him. The god-sun is not one alone, but twofold, and threefold, and fourfold. For the gods are three and four and countless.
And the devil-sun is the delight of the eyes of the god-sun,
The god of emptiness is in the beginning and his end is in the beginning.
The one who was previously concealed is the devil, for he is a liar, the supplanter, the conqueror,
Only the stars know, only the voiceless waves…
Whom the bright day and the loud noise hide from us.
Four are the elements, four the winds, four the zones of the sky, four the cardinal points.

10:08 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: In the beginning was the golden silence, and all that was beheld was a world,
And a mirrored meadow and a mirrored sea, and a mirrored heaven.
For the All-one is apparent everywhere.
It is all might, it is the lithe dancer.
In the night stands the one-named god, and with him a god wreathed in flame.
These are the two gods of the shining treasuries of light.
Only the suns know, only the yok'd urns.
And the vastness of all space, and the generations of the stars.
This is the story of our divine Abraxas, brought to earth in a night.

[And below, there is a great ink spill, confused marks as if the writer lost his mind, the remainder of the manuscript being written in another hand:]

The enemy is drawn up onto his knees, as the one caparisoned as Death takes the whip. And then we hear the terrible sound of the Basilisk’s voice, its voice deep and commanding, now seemingly the voice of the crowd, but undeniably the voice of the Basilisk:
10:05 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: ‘In the name of the conquering host, I strip this fallen god of the outward maleness he has abused and corrupted.’

10:08 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: The kneeling, groaning god drips pearls of silver to the ground, and a little green springs from every drop. The Basilisk sees, and in haughtiness calls down a crimson bolt of lightning! Striking the ground before me, my green is frozen to cruel iron, and vines of barbed wire sprout instead, twining around my wrists and biceps, my calves and thighs, and raising me from kneeling to a crucifix of metal thorns!

The dark one holds up a flint dagger, and another bolt comes down, filling the glossy darkness with red fire...a weapon that could unman even an old god!

The chanting rises to fever pitch, as do my groans, and all sense that a most spectacular scene and profound prophecy shall be enacted here and now!

10:08 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: The Basilisk holds up one of my orbs...able to sow life across worlds, holding such immense power...and yet now so pitiable and defenceless! The masked demon-god holds up his knife, and receives worship and praise, and high above the crimson storm thunders!

He plunges the flint into the orb, slicing though thick, sturdy flesh and piercing the heart and soft meat of divine virility!

I scream long, tossing my head, green light bathing the scene as quicksilver flows from the pierced orb in a rush, and rays of green shine out of the wound! The steps run with a waterfall of seed, the temple being covered in moss...and slowly the rush of seed slows, and the light begins to fade, the power of virility released, expending, dissipating...

10:08 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: Holding up the other orb, the Basilisk savours the moment...feeling its heft and fullness, massaging it to feel the churning cream within...the power of Gaius held in his one hand. He holds up his knife to the roar of the crowd, and as the seed and light of one orb fade and die, he stands ready to plunge the father-ending blade into the other!

10:08 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: The blade falls and once more the fruit of life is pierced! I howl towards the uncaring red heavens, seed and light erupting from me! Your worshippers drink of the seed that reaches the bottom of the temple, my essence slaking the thirst of your cult, the taste of your victory.

The Basilisk stands tall and proud, and waits, as befits a god, for my seed to still. The waterfalls of essence end, and the green light fades...now nothing challenges your crimson display!

The Basilisk tilts up my panting head, and slowly slips his blade beneath my chest...the burning sharpness carves into my proud pecs, and waterfalls of milk run from me as my eyes bulge. You would drain me fully...empty me utterly...I thrash in my iron bindings, and can do nothing as my deific body is completely drained of its mighty and vaunted virility!

I can only look into the Basilisk's dread eyes, for what can I say in the face of this infinite defeat?

10:05 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: Above me in the crimson skies, a bath of flames roil in celebration! Green is banished, its father now mere emptied husk. My worshippers, like jackals and hyenas jostle one another, lapping up the honeydrip of seed and milk, last ruined remnants of an earlier heaven. Let all worship my burgeoning weapon, flesh sword to rip out entrails of the sky! This will supplant the dried up fetish of the deposed useless father! My chest, muscles binding as I lift barbed vine with thorns of iron to my adoring multitudes… they sing of it, of my victory, of this righteous Displacement! And I turn to begin wrapping it round and round, the stem constricts, piercing dripping nipples with thorns, lacerating lower neck with that one… round and round, ever tighter… round and round, the blood drips down. Garrotted, the strangled sounds of the dying god, scrag end, his throat now pierced by thorns… With all my strength I pull, hear the tendons snap, hear his final cries that rise like music, and round us beats the drum to signify the dawning of a new heaven.

10:05 Basilisk_of_Imbalance: With a thud the head falls, trailing streams of blood, crimson, green! I lift it, my trophy. My supplicants jeer at the gruesome face of the former god, contorted with shame and pain, I turn it towards me for my lips to plant on it the final kiss of death.

10:08 Gaius_the_Seed_Sower: The lips of the fallen green god quiver, and his eyes gaze glassy into the Basilisk's triumphant helmeted face. They lock eyes before a final kiss, the serpent's tongue tasting and defiling the delicious mouth of the vanquished. The lithe body falls limp, no more tautness in the muscles, no virility in the chest and orbs. No defiance left burning in those glassy eyes...

10:05 Basilisk_of_Imbalance:
The wounds gape wide…
O stream of all-gushing liquid!
Purified, white sky, hard land, wild sea…
Trampled father overthrown!

Published: 2023-04-12, viewed 77 times.