The Village of Lire

The Village of Lire

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He had tethered his own daughter to his cross, saying goodbye as she remained unconscious, mercifully...

She might have seen her father underneath the dark hood.

There had been the ritualistic feast, the entire village gathering and imbibing the ancient blend of herbs and wine.

Except for the elders..

They made the selection after the great joining.

Lire lay on the coast of Scotland, above the Shetland Isles, discovered and yet still strange and apart, subsisting in a pastoral and unchanging Celtic past.

Each year the harvest came.

Each year the elders made their dismal selection.

Condemning one of their most comely daughters to the god.

It had been this way for centuries, a secret known only to the hundreds of this tribe, but the truth of the selection remained known only to those tortured men of the tribe.

Men like Dorran, who year after year watched as their overly fertile wives produced girl after girl, knowing that one day Lire could claim their child.

It was long after the feast.

As one for the last time, the bonfire had consumed them, the drums hypnotic, the drunken and dazed orgy spilling out until every one succumbed to the building lust.

Woolen garments were discarded as the women took turns with the vastly outnumbered younger men and each other, abandoning any sense of decency in a deliberate exclamation of lust and longing.

Each daughter and each mother joined each other in deflowering the sons, swapping and sharing indiscriminately, every forbidden and carnal fantasy expressed in this one bacchanal. In one final goodbye, the tribe truly knew each other, every last caress, touch, and kiss treated as if it might be a last goodbye.

Cara had been covered and dripping with seed. Every hole had been explored. Every taste and temptation experienced until her sated sex had begged her to cease and sleep.

The other elders would help him, but Dorran would fasten her to the cross himself.

He had drawn the black stone.

There came a time in each man's life when his virility faded. He became one of seven guiding elders, reigning over this prosperous village, uncommonly plentiful and pleasant compared to its surroundings in the dark, cold seas of Scotland.

It was his first year...

It was his daughter...

In the morning, no one would ask, but they would know Carra had gone to be with the gods. And secreted away, there would be tears...

The iron chains fastened around her unconcious wrists, strapping her into position as the cloaked elders retreated towards the temple, Dorran watching, waiting for the end.

He had heard.

He had known.

But Dorran had never before seen it.

The ocean turned green and almost sickly, splashing up as a straight line appeared in the sea, cutting a visible course through water. Dorran's throat choked at him, every muscle straining against his command to be still, to let what was destined happen...

She had been chosen.

Carra stirred, her eyes opening for the first time, her hands rattling against the cross. It was worse for her father, watching behind the hood as his daughter's eyes narrowed to the segmented tentacle rising out of the water, closing the distance between the spiritual realm and their mortal plane.

Lire pushed up into his eldest through the water, its feeler first finding her exposed pussy.

Dorran would always remember the look on his daughter's face at the end.

At first, her eyes stayed transfixed in that horrified, obedient stare as the god claimed her, pushing his penis inside her used cunt. He had expected this, knowing that the sexual sacrifice would struggle for her freedom, shocked and horrified at being taken from the bacchanal straight to the water god.

That had been enough to ruin his dreams.

But the transformation...

Lire entered her, taking her flesh for its own need. It drove inside of her, pushing a pulsing member inside from underneath the water. The god had his daughter, using her to his own sexual ends to complete the ritual, pushing his seed up and inside every hole of the sacrifice.

Only Carra's mouth stayed open in a long moan of ecstasy, throwing her used pussy towards the divine, glad and grateful to be chosen for this magnificent climax. She trashed, not in protest, but to loudly proclaim her pleasure in a bleating, unbroken scream of joy.

The god rose from the sea in a dozen different lengths of flesh, driving into her supple young body. It consumed her wholly, wrapping around the restraints to throw its bulbous ends into her mouth. Lire curled its segments around the cross and every inch of the girl's body, each cum dripping tentacle taking its turn with each of her orifices.

So many of the spouting cock heads took turns with her face, spraying her lips, eyes, noses, and breasts with white foam from the gods. The seed clung in clumps, falling down onto her body as the waves rose up against her.

And underneath the water, Dorran knew the god had bred with his eldest daughter, sliding up inside her pussy and ass with its essence. If it wasn't for the rising tide, Cara would have been covered in cum, her holes little other than a receptacle for divine amusement.

Her tongue lapped at the seed when it wasn't trying to touch another pendulous cock, sucking, slurping, and swallowing with a greed unparalleled in any ritual orgy. It was as though every sexual delight practiced again and again on the island had been performed only in preparation for this final submission.

For in that final look, her eyes bleary and reddened through the fluids of the titan, he saw such worship for Lire. The god continued to fuck against her flesh, his inhuman cocks thrusting inside of her with a simultaneous and reciprocal passion.

The two combined, the god tearing the cross from its base in the ocean bed, taking his prize out with him as he disappeared into the horizon.

Leaving the cloaked council of elders watching as the strange green color receded slowly, the village spared for another year...

And as Dorran watched her disappear into the sunrise, tears formed, falling freely down his cheek.

Not for Cara, he had seen the look of heavenly rapture in her eyes...

But for himself... missing her for the rest of his days.

And for his other daughters...

So with the rest of the elders, Dorran knelt into the life-giving waters, fervently praying for another of his fertile daughters to be selected in the coming year.