Kell felt her voice though his rigid flesh when she obeyed him, his words through her. She'd been raised the perfect, unknowing prophet for him. One last, grand gift from father. He enjoyed her stop, the bottom of her tunnel, another pain she should be feeling but his good Lotte was taking to this well. A soldier, bleeding on him, for him. And the crowd thought she said it out of her own inspiration. He was maddened enough by his own glory that he might believe it too, soon. His free hand petted down her bent spine, while his thrusts compromised those stacked, bone rings. Little thing, taking something behemoth, grotesque.<br/><br/>The crowd cried in elation when she claimed her title. Some already looked to Kell as he stabbed her, their worship shifting as per his design. And others simply took it as more fare, more celebration from her lips to cement this moment, and they rocked and ate from each other. The room, from having been the welcoming lobby of their leader's house, was fast becoming a garden of other-side things. Roses, everywhere, overtaking tan and alabaster skin - sprouting in rows or billowing alone, still large.<br/><br/>They were dreams come true tonight. They had been under the watchful eye of the good doctor, and while he was forgiving, it seemed that they needed to be restricted under his care. Important people must act as though they are better - their backs straight and their eyes clear, to save the world, you must present yourself as a savior. But not even their Oracle herself was straight-backed. She was unleashed, and she was becoming through such an intimate act, which they'd thought was taboo. The way Kell took her, heedlessly and expertly - perhaps there was nothing that could be taboo, if there was a man that got to fuck the Oracle like that.<br/><br/>John's heart upset his stomach when she turned to him. Wasn't this what he wanted? Why did it frighten him so. She'd changed, she wasn't sweet anymore. He'd felt it before, their red thread of connection, he'd had a chance, he was sure of it. Sweet little woman, letting him hold her hand and spoil her. She was a dragon now, claimed, made by a mortal. The most beautiful monster, her knees on the stone and her blonde reigns held by the son of their dead king. And still John worshiped, standing there by the living grave of the woman he'd idolized, and masturbated about. He was ready for any scraps.<br/><br/>"Yes!" and he called it many times over, while Ellen moved with the holy tool. He crawled closer to them, also on the altar of rock. In a sense, John wasn't so low. He was the Oracle's toy. He was the first. He tried to hold on to that, so it could be his own glory. It faded and rotted in the light of Kell's riches, but it was something, when he thought he'd lost her. He held his cock out for her. A queen will appreciate little jewelry even when her coffers are brimming with solid gold.<br/><br/>His jaw dropped when she continued her taking of what he submitted, eyes wide when he looked down. It was such a tantalizing pain, but the Oracle herself was tending to his limb. That awe carried him through when her knife licked him many times over the limb that really didn't deserve so much love. He was bawling, but he still held the shredded skin up for the silver judgement. Men watched in envy, and others celebrated harder on each other.<br/><br/>She said she'd love him, and he basked in the knife after that. The others sang and John thought it was for him. He swayed there, on his knees, and could pick up the scent of her intimate salts, as they were being stirred and whisked by the steady thrusts of Kell. John looked longingly at the woman he loved, even as he was made into a canvass of moving crimsons for her. He thought she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, fucked to this insanity by another man. He choked willingly on her fingers, and felt gratitude roil in his belly.<br/><br/>Kell watched her. John was the closest things she had to a conventional love, and she eagerly burned him with bleeding flames for this. He laughed darkly again, and the crowd hummed with that, growing fond of his amusement, the decisive nature of it. He let her have her fun with the henchmen who'd been consumed by the moment, littered with outlets for his pumping heart. Kell had the best prize here, and she was showering him in devotion as the ritual went on.<br/><br/>His cock rocked in her on its own when she pleaded. Beautiful Lotte, her own mother's murdered, impaled by him so soon after he'd done the same with father. They were tandem souls, ready to bathe in worship. His scepter in her kingdom. He pulled her golden threads so hard he bent her head back to look at him, upside down. The crowd watched their Oracle contorted. They should have been worried for her sinew and bones, but they knew she wasn't human anymore. Their holy maiden begged - how formidable Kell must be!<br/><br/>He looked at her with dark eyes then, like any hero at the junction of his great triumph, and the people complained and begged him too. Suddenly they were modest about Charlotte's worth, just as she had been. They pleaded as John had his arms out, swaying with his lack of balance from the sensation of all her cuts. His poor, smaller, now gushing, bloody limb was still hard as he gurgled on his own, the slit in the bulb finally pouring out his white product onto the stone. Nobody saw when he reached his sensual zenith.<br/><br/>Kell let her go, and the people inhaled when her head sprang forward from its sudden lack of restraint. He turned her again, and laid himself down, back to the stone. There was a merciless bucking after that, the lovely, light girl bouncing on his hips both by his upward thrusts and his hold on her waist. As his crescendo neared, she was of course wrecked faster, and they were all livid with their emotional participation of the claiming of her body and mind.<br/><br/>He breathed harder, and the crowd almost panicked, ripping itself apart when he pushed up into her a final time, delivering his human essence into her goddess womb. They cried and a sea of hands tried to sink the immovable stone table. The innocent girl had been fully transformed by their prince's signature, soaking into her inner. When John fell back no one caught him, and everyone called for their beautiful Oracle, and were eager to see what the seeding would do to her.