He followed her fingers when they cut her up, wondering if she meant to tear herself open for him. It would be such a testament to his godliness, if their Oracle succumbed on him. They would follow him forever, then, and she would be a deity in their memory, proven by her corpse that they would keep. Instead there was just a little release of blood, and the people loved her more for it. She'd not only bled for the prince, but for them as well now, even if the amounts were as different as they were in status. In her insanity, Kell thought she was brilliant.<br/><br/>It is any man's pride, his signature inside his carnal partner, and his beloved sacrifice did not disappoint him in the fray of their burning, red ritual. Her head lost its perch and fell. He groaned miserably as he seeded her, the pleasure of such triumph mingling with the biological achievement of putting himself into her belly, washing her fertile place with the welling essence. He also held his breath so soon after achieving, to see in what way she would be transformed.<br/><br/>They were all suffering in the heavy quiet. They'd lived for this, they'd celebrated it just now, and looked forward to more unhindered expression of their baser selves - but they'd not been prepared for the limbo of things. What if her poor body couldn't take it, or her mind was rattled? What if she, of all creatures, were unforthy and unable to take Kell's treasure into her? It was like they were dying for every turn of time that she didn't speak. This, to them, was the true torture of being pious, because they were promised everything in a moment that might lead to their true ruin and disappointment and utter embarrassment.<br/><br/>They all yelped when she spoke again. Their own prophecy! They had another thing to look forward to, but no doubt, because it was their returning oracle that said it, fucked to death by their hero, and resurrected on him. How beautiful. A son of their own. A creature that would signify their own holiness. Born pure, and there to protect their values. They'd locked themselves away, but they would return at the world, not to it. They would bring their son.<br/><br/>They roared and went on with their dirty acts made holy by their oracle's acceptance. More filthy acts in the light of their goddess, around the altar of their prince, with the corpse of the outdated father, who they were still grateful for. The dancing bodies, braided together, had poured out and some of them were stomping lifeless Jarek without realizing. His corpse had little value to them now, when they'd been promised a symbol for their religion. Someone born only out of their magic and bliss.<br/><br/>Kell looked up at her when she gave him the mark, and the crowd continued to drown themselves in the ringing cheer. His eyes dove into hers. Lotte, completely remade - innocent maiden, virginal, now sitting there with his cock as her support, deep inside where he'd inflated her with his own heat, and it was soaking, sure to contact her biology. He breathed slow and deep as he took on the new role that she was giving to him by his own scheme.<br/><br/>Somehow her words distinguished themselves among the screams, and they all heard her. Their eyes turned to Kell just as she was lifted off his magnificent flesh. Some of them were transfixed by the beautiful, glistening hollow it left in her. Their Oracle's delight, clear for view by all of them. It was vulgar and beautiful. Kell sat up close to where she was supported, and saw the brief moment the girl swam to the surface before the Oracle pulled her down again.<br/><br/>In their reverent elation, they were almost undone when Kell stood on the table, rising so much taller than where their Oracle sat on arms. She looked disheveled, defeated by the ritual, while his muscles were still taut and his gait was powerful. They clamored toward him. She hung there, the vessel of the heavenly voice, who was exhausted by her becoming, while their hard-cocked prince was ready for war. She reached for him, and he reached down for her, squeezing her fingers.<br/><br/>It was a glorious display, of their true ruler and his harbinger. Kell led her hand to his cock, and hung her fingers there at the base. Reve was first to climb onto the table, desperate, and hold him too. Her sister next. An array of the people who could reach found his member, and the hands stacked. Kell with his arms out, weighted by their clamoring greed. Everyone wanted that blessing too, that the Oracle submitted to.<br/><br/>When he sliced the air with his palm they quieted, and looked to him for what he might tell them next. "Are you having the time of your lives?" he asked, voice large. They agreed with their various noises, equally loud. "Then this is our bliss, this communion of our people's blood and a flesh, and then this is what we will fold the world into our ranks with. THAT is our redemption, and through the flesh is how we obtain it." It was hard to grasp but they were infected by his authority and their beautifully wilted Oracle on her throne. They cheered.<br/><br/>Kell would educate them with time, but for now he wanted to give them more pleasure,  until they were drunk on it, until they were made of it, so that he could connect their base desire of enjoying other bodies with their new belief, so that their hearts could never doubt it. This was his kingdom now, their faith a<br/><br/>Belief for the bleeding.