Illustration of a Horned God, a bipedal goat-like creature, with white fur, curling black horns, clawed hands and a long tail, walking through the woods in the rain
Despite living in a devout Catholic community, Ophelia learned about the old ways from her grand-mère. In secret, she observes those rituals, like leaving out offerings on the spring equinox. The Horned God accepts. She sees him out of her window, standing in the field behind the convent. Moonlight glints off of dark curling horns and pale white fur. As she watches, mesmerized, the beastly god's face turns unerringly to her window. He raises his hand and curls a clawed finger in a beckoning gesture. Phee knows she should stay behind these stone walls where it is safe. Say the rosary until the danger is gone. Instead, she pulls on her cloak and sneaks out through the kitchen door. He stays stock still, making her come to him. When she is within arm's reach, he cups her cheek and studies her face with night-shine eyes. Apparently satisfied with what he finds, inhuman lips bare his teeth in a semblance of a smile. "Hello, little wife," is said in a deep gravel tone, just before he bends and lifts her into his arms, carrying her off into the black woods beyond the field. He carries her for a long time, the branches and roots seeming to shift and bend around him. When the night is at it's darkest, they reach a rock formation. He brings her inside his cave, the walls decorated with symbols she can't read, that seem to pulse and transform the longer she stares at them.
Her new god lays her down in a nest of soft furs and strips her of her cloak and thin nightgown. He licks his rough tongue over her breasts and down her body, to the secret place between her thighs she has not been brave enough to explore. Her husband does not lack such courage, feasting at her as if he has been starving since the world was made. He laps as deep inside her as he can reach, cold black nose pressed to her clit. Ophelia can only cling to his horns as ecstasy rushes through her veins and stars are born and die behind her closed eyes. The horned god is lonely no more, as he turns his little bride on to her belly and slides his cock into its rightful home. Her exquisite cunt and sweet whimpers teach him the meaning of true divinity. He croons to her, telling her about the way the fates determined she was his before there was ever a light in heavens. About how he will never allow her perfect cunt to forget the shape of his cock. About the come he's going to fill her with, and the little lambs she will whelp for him in the spring. The poor thing seems too distracted to properly take in his words. That's alright, she'll learn the truth of them soon enough.
#clydephee #clydepheefic
NSFW
