The exiled black mage

“I am Hyronimous,” he said with a small bow.

As Jesus pulled out of Clara’s cunt she moaned, “The exiled mage?”

He smiled, “I am the one and the same, and I want to make you an offer.”

Clara looked past him at his retinue of undead, “Well, while we chat?” She left the thought unfinished.

Hyronimous smiled, “Pick one,” he offered.

Clara shook her head, “I don’t care, just give me one.”

The black mage smiled, and a large rotting elk pushed through the group, “I hope you like venison,” he said.

Clara rolled over onto all fours as the new meat puppet stepped over the top of her, “So, what is it you want to talk about?” She asked as the beast crouched over her.

Hyronimous watched as the creature crouched over top of her, its cock sliding from its sheath. Clara reached behind her to guide the elk’s cock into place and moaned as it slowly pushed its dead meat into her. “I am creating a new empire, and I want you to be my queen.”

Clara shook as the creature pushed into her. It started to piston its hips. She moaned, “Fuck I love venison.” She grabbed the elk’s front legs as she continued to moan. “Queen of an undead empire.”

“Your throne will be any undead beast you desire,” Hyronimous continued. “The court will be your playground. As envoy’s come to beg for peace, you will ride the most magnificent of our undead minions.”

Clara moaned as she raised her hips to allow her lover greater access. “Anything will be mine?”

“Everything will be yours. We will host elaborate dinners, roast whole pigs and then I will raise it for you to fuck on the dinner table before we carve it up to serve it to our guests.” He stepped closer and pulled a ceremonial knife. Slowly he cut a section of flesh from the undead elk and crouched beside her. “Taste one of your subjects and say yes.”

Clara opened her mouth to accept the undead flesh of her rotting lover. She chewed on its flesh, feeling the maggots wriggle and pop-under her teeth. She moaned as she chewed on the flesh before locking eyes with the black mage. “And if I wanted something special? Some undead monster to be my personal servant?” she asked around a mouthful of flesh.

Hyronimous raised an arm, and one of the catthra ran forward to pour a glass of wine from an earthen bottle. “Nero D’Avola goes very nicely with venison. And I will get you any creature you desire and give you all the resources you want to grow them or mutate them.” He held the glass to her lips, and she took a sip. “If you want Jesus at your beck and call, he is yours. If you want an undead beast from another plain, I will provide.” The elk continued to fuck her, the beetle attached to her tit pushing it into the ground and tightening its grip in agitation. “So, will you be my queen?”