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This is a work of fiction and contains scenes of explicit gay sex. Any resemblance to actual places, persons, or events is coincidental. If you are not of the legal age to read adult stories or are uncomfortable with gay themes, please stop reading now and close this document.
Gods, Part 5, by Thomas A. Hammer. Copyright 2020
All rights are reserved. Do not duplicate or distribute in any form without express permission of the author.
Lamas had been a farmer all his life and he produced more grain than anyone in the region. He had this innate ability to time the planting of his grain to after the spring rain storms. Some planted too early and the storms washed away their seeds or exposed them to crows; others planted too late as a precaution, and then suffered from the cold autumn stormwinds. Lamas knew the exact time to plant and others had begun to follow his lead. Lamas put everything into his occupation, wasting no time on merriment or family or any distractions.
One day while in the field, Lamas heard a crack of thunder. Curious, he thought to himself, there were no signs of approaching storms. He looked around and he saw a lone figure standing in the middle of his field. He wore tight black trousers and a wide leather harness across his chest. Sliver cuffs adorned his upper arms and his wrists. He held a jagged spear in one hand. Lamas couldn't believe the masculine beauty of the man - the figure was a tall man, medium-build, with flowing black hair cascading just past his shoulders. The man walked toward Lamas, who simply stood there not knowing if it was fear or awe that riveted him to the spot.
"Hello, Lamas, do you know who I am?"
"No, Sir, regretfully, I do not."
"That is quite alright. You have outwitted me for many, many years."
"Really, Lord? If I have wronged you, then please, accept my sincerest apologies," answered Lamas, and he started to collapse to his knees respectfully.
The man's large hand grabbed Lamas and pushed him erect. Lamas felt a bolt of energy rush through his body from the man's touch.
"Lamas, I am Aerric, god of storms and thunder."
Once again, Lamas tried to fall to his knees. Again, Aerric prevented the act.
"Oh, my Lord! Have I offended thee?"
"No, Lamas, I am impressed. You have bested me. I bow to you," replied Aerric and bowed to Lamas with a flourish. "May we go inside and talk?"
Lamas led the man to his small cottage at the edge of his field, turning around every few steps to make sure this was all real. Lamas believed in the gods and presented his offering without fail, but he never had truly believed that they could or would appear in flesh and blood before him. The storm god watched and smiled at the frightened man he followed.
Lamas stumbled into the cottage and immediately rushed to provide some refreshment to the god. Aerric entered the dark cottage and looked around it. It was well-kept and clean, but very sparse in furniture. He sat down at a small table which creaked and swayed as he rested his muscular arms on it.
"Please, Lord, share with me some fresh wine. By the grace of Uri, the vineyard was very productive." He placed a glass and a jug of wine in front of the god.
"Uri's grace? Mmmm, okay," muttered Aerric sarcastically, pouring himself a glass.
"I should be doing that, Master," Lamas pleaded, reaching for the jug. Aerric pushed his hand away.
"Nonsense! It is within my power to pour my own wine. It is a favorite hobby of mine," replied Aerric, giving Lamas a wide grin. Lamas sat back and lowered his head. "Look at me," said Aerric, after gulping down the glass and then refilling it. "Let me see your handsome face." He reached out and caressed Lamas' chin.
Lamas looked up and just couldn't believe the magnificent god sitting across from him. The room seemed to glow from his presence. Aerric poured some wine into another glass and pushed it toward Lamas.
"A toast to a wonderful mortal! Drink up," shouted Aerric lifting his glass, consuming it quickly.
Lamas raised his glass and drank with his eyes still on the beautiful god.
"How do you do it?" inquired Aerric after several glasses. "How do you best me every year?"
"Lord?"
"Every year, your crops beat the storms. You never sacrifice a crop to me in the yearly storms. You know the perfect time to plant and your harvests are great. Do you pray to Uri, god of the harvest, with feverish ecstasy?"
"It is a skill I have developed, my Lord. Many depend on my harvest. I give much to orphans, widows, and the hungry. As you can see, I don't do it for riches," he answered, motioning around the room. "I have no one to share wealth with nor anyone who shares my burdens." Lamas frowned. "I pray to all the gods. Celestino. Uri. You. All of the Catenarin. Do you not hear my prayers, Lord?"
Aerric took a gulp of wine and paused. He ran a finger across the surface of the table and was expressionless. He surveyed the room and looked back at Lamas.
"Oh yes, I do," he answered with a wide grin, more animated than a second ago. "Of course, they are my favorite. I savor their sincerity and humility." He ran a hand through his hair. "But you are so lonely."
"I am, Lord."
"And that saddens me, Lamas."
Lamas hung his head.
"Have you never found love, Lamas?"
"I have found much love from those I help. They give me love in abundance, but I've never experienced a physical love, my Lord. I have never lain with another."
Aerric stood up. He walked around the table to Lamas.
"Stand up, Lamas," he commanded.
Lamas stood up and the storm god pulled him to him. He bent down and placed his lips on Lamas, giving him a deep passionate kiss. His tongue pushed into Lamas' mouth. Lamas could taste the electrical tinge and strong flavor of the storm god. Then Aerric pulled away.
"May I lie with you, Lamas?" asked Aerric, sliding a hand down Lamas' strong muscled chest.
Lamas reached out and grabbed Aerric's sinewy arms. His hands ran across the silver metal cuff and to the broad shoulders. His hand caressed up to silky dark hair of the god.
"Yes, Lord."
Aerric twirled Lamas around to the bed. He pulled the farmer's tunic over his head and pushed him down to the bed. He let his own trousers fall to the floor, Lamas gasped at the well-endowed god. Lamas reached up and grabbed the god's leather harness, pulling him toward the bed. Aerric fell on top of the mortal and reached for his arms. He pushed Lamas' arms to the head of bed. He tossed his long hair back, and then gave the man another deep kiss. Lamas groaned against the passionate kiss. He could feel the studded leather and hairy chest rubbing against his own smooth tanned torso. Aerric pulled away from Lamas' lips and trailed down his neck to the warm smooth chest. The god's tongue swirled across each nipple, suckling and tenderly biting at each hard tip. Lamas writhed beneath the muscled hairy god. He couldn't believe the ecstatic joy within him, the charged intense rush coursing through his body. His mortal cock, slick with streams of precum slipping across the god's tight hips, seemed to grow with every touch given to him.
Aerric sat up and reached for the cock oozing against him. He encircled it with his hand and pumped it, stopping as Lamas' breathing grew more rapid. Lamas groaned as he edged his orgasm. He wanted to shoot a load across Aerric's leather harness, but not yet.
Aerric rubbed the head of the mortal's cock into palm of his own hand, and then rubbed it onto his own engorged cock.
"Will you give yourself to me, Lamas. Sacrifice yourself to me. Promise yourself to me," he asked of the human.
"Yes, my Master," Lamas answered. "I am yours. Take me, Lord."
Aerric pushed the mortal's legs back and moved his cock toward his asshole. The slick fat cock pushed against the tight hole. Lamas screamed in elation as the god sank into him. Lamas radiated in a state of glorious rapture as the god took his virgin hole. Aerric paused for a minute before pumping his rod rapidly into Lamas.
Oh, my god," cried Lamas, as his prostate was hit by the hard long cock in quick succession. "I need to give you this cum, my lord. Take this my gift!"
Aerric bent forward as Lamas shot his euphoric load across his harness.
"And accept mine in return, Lamas," Aerric growled as he pumped his full load into the tight ass.
He kept pumping until the slick pungent cum frothed and ran from Lamas' ass. Finally, he pulled out and wiped the spent foaminess off his cock onto the sheets. Aerric pushed his long hair back, and looked down at the satiated man under him. Lamas was smiling, his eyes still closed from the intensity of the act.
"Rest, Lamas," Aerric cooed, as he softly rolled off him.
Lamas opened his eyes as Aerric was pulling on his trousers. Aerric pushed his hair back and sat down beside the mortal.
"I hope that was good for you, my dear human."
Aerric reached out and caressed Lamas' cheek. Then leaned in and gave him a peck on his cheek.
"Yes, my Lord, it was," he replied still glowing, drunk from the coupling.
"I have something important to tell you," he replied back. His hair fell forward and he combed it back with his hand. Lamas smiled up at him.
"Yes?"
"I will always watch you and I will listen eagerly to your every prayer. I will hold back my storms in order to assist in your charitable work. Those people must always be fed. I have chosen you, so never fear that the storms will rage against you. You have my eternal promise. Now, I must leave you, my dear lover," Aerric said, as he stood up.
He then picked up his spear, looked once again at Lamas, and departed the cottage. Once outside, Aerric chuckled to himself knowing that everything he just said to Lamas was a lie. A complete utter lie. Everything.
As Aerric walked away, his form began to melt away and reformed as Gaio. He laughed as Gaio melted away and Joash appeared. He continued to walk as Uri, Ari, Jehioada, and Cernunnos all flashed into existence and then faded away in succession. Only one figure remained. This figure was clothed in a flowing hooded black robe. The figure stopped and pulled back the hood to reveal his head. He had a dark beauty about him. He was bald with pale skin and dark eyes. His lips were the color of blood.
"They are all fools...gods and men... against the will of Shaitan," he whispered to himself. "This realm is mine. It has always been mine and mine alone."
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