Cian's Revenge! Part 3 - The Pillars of Sacrifice

There had never been anything particularly innocent about Ryan Hartley, the Killer Quarterback. But in that brief moment when Cian’s eyes flashed white with rage, Ryan’s confidence fell, giving way to a doe-eyed worry...

“Hey…Cian…maybe we should take a breather, yeah?”

Cian responded to this worthless grunt daring to call out his name by delivering a roundhouse kick to his jaw.

CRACK.

Ryan’s head nearly turned 360 degrees—and he briefly blacked out—as he fell sideways onto the ground, his jaw immediately dislocated by the smash to the face. He groaned on the ground, lights and colors flashing in front of his eyes.

Cian was no longer present. Not really. A sadistic rage had taken over. The brawler turned to the camera, making sure it was capturing every moment that was about to unfold. He snarled at, eager to make Ryan’s girlfriend watch as he dismantled him slowly, methodically, and without mercy.

Before Ryan could so much as get up from his anguished position on his stomach, Cian grabbed his neck and ripped him straight off the ground with his newfound, enhanced strength. His ‘blood frenzy’ activated, he called upon the gift of the Celtic demigods, the blessing and curse of the Hound of Cullen. It was an insatiable and violent berserk that would not subside until Cian had his fill of Ryan’s suffering.

And the feast had only just begun...

“C-c-cian,” Ryan mumbled, a trickle of blood and saliva leaking from his mouth as Cian made sure his head was turned to look at him.

“Scared now, boyo?” Cian said coldly. “No. No. I really don't think you're scared enough…”

Cian clamped down on Ryan’s meaty forearms and—in a moment of well-intended symbolism—Irish whipped his opponent into the other wall, nearly dislocating his shoulder in the process. Cian took advantage of the impact, waiting for Ryan’s dumb jock build to bounce off the padded wall, and then charged at him with a devastating clothesline, slamming his arm right into his trachea.

The sound Ryan uttered as he collapsed to the ground was practically inaudible, somewhere between a gasp and a groan.

“I’m not done yet!” Cian roared, allowing himself a moment's pleasure, watching Ryan trembling, failing to push himself up off the ground. The burly jock moaned in pain. Cian couldn’t help but get hard at his suffering, and his hands found their way to his bulge as he stroked himself, watching with a hypnotic and animal lust, somewhere between violence and arousal.

“GET UP!” Cian said as he stomped down onto Ryan’s back. And then another, and another, a merciless assault to really soften up Ryan’s ribs and sides for the torture that was yet to come. “I SAID, GET UP!”

“…W-wait….wait, Cian…”

“What’s wrong, boyo?” Cian said, pulling Ryan up by his neck. There was just no way he could possibly fight back now. “Are you not having fun, yet? OOPS!”

His kickpad rolled down, and knee exposed, Cian reset Ryan’s lopsided jaw—by delivering a knee-strike to the opposite side of his face. It was like a cartoon, how his face and head contorted with the momentum.

“You should say, ‘thanks,” Cian said, mockingly. He grabbed his own head and cracked it to the side, ready to dish out more punishment. He huffed, feeling his body pump out sweat and testosterone, like an animal in heat competing for a mate. Even if Cian wanted to, he couldn’t stop himself now. The ‘blood frenzy’ had taken over, and it wasn’t about to subside...

“GET UP!” Cian said, as Ryan pathetically and dizzily pawed at his waist, unable to even vocalize any pleas for mercy. Cian rolled his eyes. “What’s that? Huh?” He pushed down on the back of Ryan’s head and shoved his face right into his bulge—which at this point, was more of a tent pole. He made sure to give Ryan a good rub. “Smell that, Ry-guy? You like it?”

“P-please…no more.”

“I DIDN’T HEAR YOU SAY, ‘I GIVE!”

Cian clawed down on Ryan’s traps, digging his hands in deep, with enough force to yank him off the ground again. Cian tucked Ryan's drooling head under his armpit and forced Ryan's back into an arch.

“He’s an old favorite of mine!” Cian said as he threw himself backwards and delivered a brutal DDT to Ryan’s head, slamming it into the mat. "Ohhhh, would you look at that!" Cian pointed to the camera. "I just broke your man."

Thank goodness the mat was padded. Even so, Ryan flopped like a fish, knocked silly by the impact, a puddle of saliva pooling under his lips.

“Hey, hey, wake up, boyo. We ain’t done yet.”

Cian mounted Ryan's back again, and began to mercilessly pummel at his already dazed opponent’s head, remembering the punching bag at home.

“YOU NEVER THREATEN MY FRIENDS AGAIN,” Cian snarled. “OR I’LL END YOUR FUCKING CAREER. GOT IT?”

Ryan was in no position to argue. Cian propped the beaten football player’s chin up, almost tenderly, before he patted his face and let him drop him back down to the mat.

But Cian couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to. Somewhere, a small voice inside side said, “Pin him! That’s enough!” But the Cian in control just laughed it away. He just wasn’t satisfied yet. Overcome with the desire to deliver even more brutality, Cian gripped the sides of his own head—almost if he was in pain—and roared, an influx of bloodlust rushing up his spine, washing over his mind.

“I’LL CRUSH YOU IN TWO!”

“…I…I sub—”

“DIN’T HEAR YOU!” Cian snarled, as he positioned himself next to Ryan and wrapped his enormous legs around his torso.

Stunned as he was, Ryan’s survival instincts took over, as a wide-eyed horror dawned on his face. He looked up, pleasingly, at the camera. “Just…just turn it off so my girl—”

Cian squeezed down slow, making sure to savor Ryan’s squirms of pain. “If you think I’m going to shut it off,” Cian wheezed, soaked with his own sweat and huffing like a beast, “You have another thing coming, jobber. I’m going to make sure she watches her man get demolished. I HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN WHAT YOU DID TO ME!”

All of Cian’s leg muscles bulged as he trapped Ryan between his legs in a body scissor and began to compress down tighter, like a hungry snake wrapping itself around a helpless fieldhouse.

“AGGGGGH!!!!”” Ryan groaned; teeth clenched down so hard they might shatter. “N-n-no…I SUBMIT! I SUBMIT!”

“NO, YOU DON’T!”

Ryan’s eyes began to water. “Please! C'mon man, I'm beggin' ya!”

“YOU BEG?” Cian let him go, regarding Ryan’s red back and bruised ribs with satisfaction. Cian stood, looming over his work. The football player struggled for breath, and Cian wondered—with amusement—if he’d actually broken any of his ribs.

But this still wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot. Cian permitted his prey a few more moments to catch his breath before he picked him up by the chin and forced Ryan to look up at him.

“Remember what you did to me?” Cian leered down. He was sure his own eyes were bright red. “I am going to humiliate you WORSE.” He then reared his head back and lobbed a huge wad of spit right onto Ryan’s face, before he pulled it right between his massive, marble thighs. Cian admitted, with a sadistic glee, to feeling himself start to leak at the sensation of trapping the sweaty football player’s head between his quads. He even rubbed his crotch against the back of Ryan's head to add to the sensation. Felt damn good, doing on this helpless, worthless jobber's head.

He went slowly, compressing Ryan’s cranium with near-hydraulic pressure. He made sure to turn his back to the camera, making sure Ryan’s head was sticking out for his horrified girlfriend at home to look upon with disappointment. Cian then remembered his own singlet was still wedged up his crack—which probably only made the situation worse for the football player, whose eyes were now bulging out of his head, and face turning from red to violet.

“….ss…mmm….”

“What’s that?” Cian said. “You want me to go harder, boyo?”

“Mmmfff!”

Cian laughed. He’d probably broken a few capillaries in Ryan’s poor face at this point. He was reminded of Christmas, back when he was growing up. His ma used to put walnuts in the mouths of ornamental nutcrackers, and Cian would always beg to snap down and crush them for his amusement. Now, he knew why.

Finally, just as he started to feel Ryan’s body go limp, he relented, watching the absolutely destroyed wrestler crumble to the floor. The jock rasped for breath. Cian, hard as a rock, was all too happy to stare down and watch Ryan’s body tremble with adrenaline and pain. It was a miracle he hadn’t passed out yet…

“Had enough?” Cian said. He began to feel the frenzy recede, giving way to a clearer head.

Ryan looked up, his lower jaw trembling. “You…”

“Eh?”

“You…you...bitch. You dirty bitch. You’ll never be a real fighter…”

All at once, the rage washed over Cian like an ocean wave, and he was back to berserk. He roared, feeling his cock pulse out a stream of pre-cum.

“FEED…ME…YOUR…PAIN!”

Ryan realized he had made a mistake, as he watched Cian pull the straps of his singlet down, revealing a body that had somehow doubled in muscle within seconds. How was this possible? How had this cornfed, milky boy turned into such a ruddy, vascular monster? Ryan sensed he wasn’t long for this world...

It had been too, too long since Cian had last performed his submission finisher. Before he’d gotten into spellbreaking, the feds had actually banned it due to some...unfortunate injuries that had resulted. His eyes rolling into the back of his head with madness, Cian fell down to Ryan’s side, and wrapped the back of his legs around his head, locking his head between his upper thigh and his crotch in a tight, figure four. It was as painful as it was humiliating.

“Upon this alter…” Cian whispered coldly, “I do commit this chattel to sacrifice. May his bones break, and blood flow, to please the gods to whom I consign this worthless meat…”

“N-n—no, wait!”

-Was all Ryan managed to gurgle before Cian performed his Pillars of Sacrifice, driving Ryan’s face straight into the crevasse of his glutes, while compressing his head and neck like a grape between his quads. In panic, Ryan body contorted itself, a futile escape, his legs madly fighting against the mat as mindless and distant Cian kept putting on the pressure, feeling Ryan’s pain and anguish flow into his body.

“I…NEED…MORE…”

Ryan couldn’t even beg if he’d tried. He’d been completely smothered, his neck at the breaking point. Even worse, Cian had pumped his energy directly into Ryan’s pituitary system, ensuring that his victim would remain conscious, a feedback loop of pain that only served to bring Cian absolute, sadistic pleasure.

But, as Cian’s ears perked up to the barely imperceptible creak vertebrae about to break, he relented. Murder tended to end careers pretty quickly after all, and his senses had finally begun to return…just enough. It was a miracle, really. Had Cian spent another moment, Ryan the Killer Quarterback would be no more.

Instead, the once mighty heel’s head was released from Cian’s brutal ‘Pillars’. Tongue hanging from his mouth, and neck bent at an odd angle, Ryan was out. But at least he was still alive.

On all fours, like a wild, starved beast, Cian looked down at his defeated opponent. His sweat dripped down, coating Ryan’s red, puffy face like droplets of rain. Cian could almost smell the chemicals, the testosterone and adrenaline, sublimating off his body.

He laughed, hollowly, sadistically, regarding his work like a great master stepping back from a finished canvas. “Such a worthless sacrifice…” he said, gently caressing Ryan’s head. He then mounted Ryan's head, making sure to smother his face with his wet bulge, as Cian double-bicep flexed for the camera.

 “Put this one in the dirt. Surprised he didn’t wet himself, the pussy…”

But even though the bloodlust had receded, the battle-lust was still in full force, and the front of Cian’s singlet was now soaked with own precum. He pawed at himself, overcome with the need to rut, or abuse and use this worthless pile of flesh in front of him.

With a deliberate and cutting sneer, Cian turned back to the camera. “Hope you enjoyed that! But…the fun’s just getting started, lass. You want to see what a real man can do? I’m about to show ya…”

Next Chapter!