ALTAR OF PROMETHEUS

Bishop lifted the young man up over his shoulder. Nathan was athletic and substantial, but the older satyr’s strength was beyond that of even a mortal man of his size. He effortless carried him as if he were no more than a bag of groceries away from the woods. His bottom had been thoroughly fucked and inseminated, an act that is known to exhaust humans not accustomed to satyr sex.

He smiled, knowing that the sleeping man was full of his seed, already undergoing the Promethean changes. The boy’s buttocks was next to his face as his legs hung in front of him. He saw the freshly fucked hole, surprisingly taught for all it endured, only slightly red from the intense pounding.

Bishop wanted to make sure his breeding would take full effect and bring Nathan to his new life as soon as possible. He lifted his meaty finger and brought it to his hole. The boy’s orifice was still wet and pliable, taking his finger into the knuckle without hesitation. His insides were coated in his cum, making his insertion a gentle and delicate maneuver. Bishop pushed his seed in further, making sure it settled deep inside his young lover.

Nathan let out a soft moan, unaware that his horned top was back inside him. Bishop loved the sound he made. He pulled his finger out slowly, not wanting to wake him. His finger returned to the cold air of the unexpected winter, instantly missing the warmth and wetness of Nathan’s bottom. He brought his digit to his lips, hungry to taste Nathan with his new cream filling.

The floral flavor of Bishop’s semen was warmed and cooked with his boy’s natural juices. It was a cocktail he’d tasted many times, but each time was different and unique. Nathan had a delicious, spirited, complex taste, making Bishop want him all the more.

The brisk breeze made Bishop’s finger want to return. As he walked, leaving the patch of forest behind, Bishop played with Nathan’s soft, smooth hole. It was too much to resist. He listened as Nathan cooed in his slumber. The young man’s foot lifted involuntarily, reacting to his sex being penetrated again. Bishop twisted and turned inside him, pleased to see him still resting as they made their way.

Bishop felt Nathan’s cock harden on his shoulder. It rubbed against him as he walked, stroking against his muscular body and soft hairs. With each pace, it seemed to get bigger and stiffer. Bishop kept a steady gate, wanting to keep that balance of peaceful and arousing. He didn’t want Nathan to come to just yet. He needed to recover. After all, there’d be time for fun later.

Still, Bishop wanted to see what his boy could take. He pulled his finger out and rubbed it against the adjacent middle finger. Some of his precious seed coated his index finger, spreading to the other as they met. Sufficiently lubed by his own product, he squeezed the two back inside Nathan, feeling his warm sphincter stretch to receive him.

Bishop felt himself press deeper, rubbing gently against Nathan’s prostate. It was still swollen from its previous ejaculation, but it did not stop his cock from continuing to expand. His glands moved around Bishop’s fingers, pushing out some fluid as his body readied itself for another burst of sexual satisfaction. Bishop felt the pre-cum spill over his chest, matting his chest hair as it poured down past his nipple, chilling in the frosty forest air.

Nathan’s fluids steadily feel down from out of his cock, dripping down further until it began to make its way to Bishop’s own genitals. Bishop laughed to himself, amused by how Nathan responded to his touch and arousal. The warm, silky seminal fluid hit the tip of his cock drip by drip, causing him to become enlarged himself. Bishop’s cock-head rose, as if to point up toward Nathan’s.

As he stepped through the snow, he felt his shaft and bells become wet, unsure if it was entirely Nathan’s doing or the excitement of his own body mixed in. The idea of their semen blended together was a potent thought, making Bishop desperate to be back inside him and breed him once more.

Bishop began to move quicker, his cape catching the breeze and lifting up from the snow as it trailed behind. It was a good long walk before he came to the edge of the forest, coming to a cliff that overlooked the modern world.

Bishop paused to look out at the skyscrapers, stunned by the changing world around him. He knows more than most just how fast civilizations can rise and fall, and how impermanent these monuments of man can be. Still, it was a remarkable view every time he saw it. Humans were weaker, smaller, and suffered from a lack of historical memory or perspective. Their lives were so short that they had to learn the world’s lessons again and again, growing so slowly, sometimes cyclically. Any yet, in Bishop’s eyes, they’d moved from caves to condos in an instant.

Things used to be so simple. Eat, sleep, fuck, fight, fuck again, and tend to the beasts of the world. Mankind was his greatest flock. Challenging, engaging, even surprising. And now, they’ve forgotten about the immortals and mysteries of the earth. They’ve left the forest for the fields, built farms, and made their own flocks. They even imagined new immortals. New gods and spirits who they turned to for guidance.

It was sad. But it wasn’t new for Bishop. He mourned the old world generations ago. But with a warm, freshly bred boy in his arms, he got a taste of his former life. The warm, spring world of the humans was dynamic and changing. But here in the cold winter of his magic, Bishop tried to stop time and stay in this feeling.

Bishop marched on, bottom in tow, and headed for the Altar of Prometheus.

Far from any trails or well worn paths, deep in the forest through thick brush and dense trees, a steep hill came to a halt as a stone archway opened up a dark cave. The frame was marked with impressive carved pillars, depicting mythological beasts and symbols of masculine energy. Large phalluses held up the top, worn from many seasons of wind and rain. The average onlooker might have missed them in the canopy of the trees, but to Bishop, they were the final remnants of his past, welcoming him home.

In front of the opening laid a large stone slab, barely raised from the ground as it had eroded over time nearly to the dirt. This unassuming landmark served as the place of many nocturnal rituals, powerful and meaningful in the days of yore. Bishop returned to it when he could, clinging to the traditions of the old ways when he found a special boy to bring into the fold. He believed he found such a specimen in Nathan.

Bishop saw the cold stone, frozen in the newly laid snow. He removed his cloak and draped it over its firm surface, not wanting to shock the boy’s system. He’d grown to no longer be sensitive to the cold, but poor Nathan still had a mortal’s delicate nature. Bishop needed to protect him and care for him.

The boy’s body was a little chilly, having been carried for a long time through the wintery air. Bishop laid him down on the stone stretching his body out and giving him the warmth that his body had transferred to the dark, velvety material.

Seeing him there, sprawled out, presented on the stone… he looked so peaceful. So beautiful. He was like a perfect offering. Soft flesh, firm muscles, pouty lips. It’s exactly what he would hope to be presented on the Altar of Prometheus.

The ancient rock had been the site of many transformations, each one sanctified and carried out by the satyrs of history. Bishop was eager to carry out this tradition.

He lifted the boy’s legs, watching his thighs stretch up, presenting his hole up to him. Bishop’s cock stood out from his body, strong and powerful as well. The cool air didn’t seem to quell his desire to breed in the slightest. If anything, it made him yearn for the heat and warmth of a good fuck.

Nathan remained still, his body receptive. It didn’t take much for Bishop to push himself through his sphincter, passing into his warm, gooey anus. He took his time, moving slowly, inch by inch as he wrapped his member with the boy’s tight hole. It was better than sitting by a fire. Better than a belly of warm soup. It was a heat that spread throughout his entire body. A heat that could have melted the snow around them.

As Bishop slid deeper, he felt the tip of his cock brush up against the pool of cum that remained inside his anal cavity. It was searing hot, heated up from the boy’s insides. Much of it had already been absorbed into him, but the remainder was like a thick warm bath for his cock. It felt so good, his hips thrust forward, plunging into the boy as far as he could go. The abrupt force was enough to stir Nathan, making him let out a sound of pleasure and pain as his insides filled up on him.

Bishop did not want to frighten Nathan. Afterall, a strange, horned man deep inside him would have been a lot to take. He projected his mind once more, delving into Nathan’s subconscious, giving him an image of something warmer and easier than the cold, hard breeding altar.

Nathan’s imagination filled with a warm, white room, bright and inviting. The hard feeling beneath his body softened, transmuted from granite to something more akin to a pillowy surface. He no longer felt the sting of a cold breeze or the delicate snowfall on his body. It was like he was somewhere else. Not familiar, but not strange or scary.

Bishop lulled his mind into a pleasant state of peace. And in that state, he took what was his.

Bishop’s muscles tightened and tensed as he neared climax. His bull-like testicles became tight and full as they churned out more of his potent seed. Nathan’s body, still subdued in a state of imagination, took to his hard thrusts cooperatively, even enthusiastically. His hole tightened on his cock each time it plunged inside him, gripping him at the base. It held tight was he pulled back, only releasing when the tip was near to his muscles.

It felt incredible. Bishop was on the edge bursting, filling the sedated boy once more. This time, he arched his neck, grinding his teeth as he felt himself close to finishing. The boy shook in his grip, rattling around like a plane in turbulence. Every part of his body was at the mercy of Bishop’s strength and desire.

Suddenly, the point of no return came.

A roar like that of a lion’s took to the air as Bishop unleashed his load. A final plunge deep into Nathan sealed his fate as wave after wave of pleasure turned Bishop’s cock into a geyser. His cock burst with a hot seed that coated his insides, refilling him until it nearly pushed out the satyr’s member.

An echo reverberated in the forest. The sound was enough to stir every crawling creature, winged bird, and wild beast. Their master had cum, meaning new life was coming to the forest. Bishop caught his breath, fully enveloped by Nathan’s body. It took a moment for him to recover, fully spent in the boy’s anus.

Slowly, he retreated, pulling out his cock, watching it glisten as his fluids were present on the head of his cock. Nathan stayed still, only slightly moaning as his hole was relieved of the pressure of the massive meat. It remained full of his products, but he was no longer under the intense pounding of the horny satyr.

Bishop, satisfied and spent, lifted the boy up, feeling his body rest over his shoulder once more. With his free hand, he pulled the cum soiled cape off the altar, seeing it wet with snow and jizz. Nathan’s penis dripped out a few strings of pre-cum, a natural response to the intense erotic experience he’d just encountered. Bishop’s own cock continued to leak as the few remaining drops of his orgasms tried to escape from his shaft.

It was a good day. A long, magical day. The world had changed, but Bishop knew he was still at his heart the same satyr he’d always been. He carried Nathan deep into the opening of the hill, through the phallic pillars and into the depths of the earth. He knew the only thing now to do was wait. Wait for Nathan to come to. Wait for him to accept all that was about to change. And wait for that change to manifest before his eyes.