Innocent Sacrifice - 1. Chapter 1

Of all the foundlings and orphans, Su Yin had been chosen as the sacrifice. He was the right age, he was the most pleasing to look at, and crucially, he was a virgin. The teenager had cried when the temple guards had come to the dormitory looking for him. He could have hid, though how successfully he was not sure, or he could have fled. But instead his narrow body froze in fear and he had whimpered as he was marched from the long room where he’d slept since before he could remember. Whispers and mutters followed him from the dormitory out into the street, but Su Yin hadn’t cared. People could say whatever they wanted about him, because in a few days, it would no longer matter, and he’d be dead.

Left alone in a little room inside the first part of the temple complex, Su Yin had curled up on the bamboo matting and cried big, wet, messy tears for his predicament. He cursed himself silently for not running away, for not resisting or trying to bargain with the temple guards to let him go and choose someone else. They were not nice thoughts which swirled around his head, because Su Yin had never wished anyone else harm before in all his life, but he didn’t want to die either. He could have smashed his way out of the paper walls, crept out of the temple and run until his feet bled, but he didn’t. The foundling home had taught all the boys to be respectful of property and posessions, since they had come to the world with nothing; and what was out there for Su Yin if he did leave? He was not strong, not like the men who tilled the fields, hauled in fish from the ocean, or went to war to fight for China and the Emperor. He hadn’t finished his lessons, he could not simply run off in rags and become a scholar, or even an apprentice without the proper papers. In the silence punctuated only by his snivels, Su Yin decided it was simply better to stay put, and go to his death.

Everyone in Laoshan knew the legend, you grew up knowing it, and just like Su Yin had only ever known the foundling home and the long narrow dormitory in which he and a dozen other boys slept, he did not remember a time before he had known about the yaoguai who lived in the mountains, and visited the great Taiqing temple once every hundred years to receive his sacrifice. Without an appropriate sacrifice, the demon would reign terror down over their little town, destroy their homes, crops, and boats, and bring misery to all who survived. And now, in the year of the Rooster, Su Yin was to be that sacrifice.

After a while, one of the monks came to take him to the chambers of the high priest, a tall, regal man with a nose like an eagle and a polished scalp. The high priest explained to Su Yin the greatness of the sacrifice he was making, the debt the town and temple owed him, the pride he should feel at being chosen for such a noble destiny. Su Yin listened, head bowed, but he didn’t say anything. He wasn’t expected to say anything. The temple had chosen him, it wasn’t as if he’d volunteered to be killed, and no doubt eaten, by a monster. It was all terribly unfair, but Su Yin didn’t see that complaining would have any effect on the outcome. As he was lead back to his room by another monk, this one barely older than himself, Su Yin saw something out the corner of his eye, and stopped.

There was a statue, held in the pillar of an enormous gate they were passing, and Su Yin stared openly.

“Is that the yaoguai?”

“Yes. That’s him,” the other monk replied as a thread of fear flitted across his face. “Those steps lead up to his temple. That’s where they’ll be taking you… when you’re ready.”

“And if I went there now?”

The monk gaped at him in horror.

“Y-you are not cleansed! If the demon is unhappy with the sacrifice, then it is all for nothing, and the town will be visited by dark spirits!”

“Alright, alright!” Su Yin held up his hands to the young monk in a supplicating gesture. “Whatever… I’ll stay here.”

“Good. Come along.”

Su Yin turned back to the statue.

“Do you think he really looks like that?”

“I wouldn’t know,” came the terse reply, and Su Yin decided not to say anything else.

Later, left alone in the little room he understood was to be his until he died, Su Yin lay on the thin cotton mattress and thought about the statue of the demon who was going to kill him. He figured the sculptors had allowed themselves a certain freedom of artistic licence, but even so, the yaoguai was not someone he wanted to meet in the dark one day. The fact he was going to meet him in the light didn’t much help either. The statue was taller, much bigger than Su Yin’s slight frame, with a deep broad chest, rippling muscles, and red skin the colour of fresh blood. His eyes were a mad staring green, and his black lips were distorted around two sets of fangs which Su Yin could all too easily imagine tearing his flesh from his bones. He shivered.

*

There were eight days of preparation and cleansing, and Su Yin discovered rather quickly, that most of this amounted to sitting around and being very, very bored. That first evening, he had been taken to the monks bathhouse and asked to strip, then knelt in a tub of deliciously hot water, and allowed himself to be scrubbed clean. Su Yin never remembered having had a bath all to himself in his life, certainly never one as warm. He didn’t like being naked in front of the monks, but afterwards he had been given a long white robe, and dinner had been waiting for him in his room on his return.

The high priest had given strict instructions he was only to eat when he was given, so that they could be certain his body was entirely pure before he was taken to the yaoguai’s temple, and Su Yin, used to eating whatever the foundling home could afford, was only too happy to oblige. He ate his fill of steamed bao and choi sum with garlic, and slept. He did not dream.

Each day was much the same. There was breakfast, the monks prayed and meditated, Su Yin sat in his room feeling bored. Each day he was taken for a bath, and each day another cleansing task was performed on him. Very quickly Su Yin realised there was no point trying to assist in any of these tasks, or have opinions about them, so he simply stood silent, and allowed himself to be messed with.

He was shaved all over, sat for hours having his hair brushed, smoothed, trimmed, and tied into an elegant topknot. They measured him for clothes, and being a clotheshorse as the tailor cut and stitched and pinned around him was only fractionally less boring than being alone in his room. His eyebrows were tweezed, his fingernails trimmed, smoothed, shaped, and polished. He was given another bath after which every inch of his skin was scrubbed raw, then rubbed with sweet scented oils. He spent a few painful hours having his teeth scraped clean with a series of metal and bamboo tools, and sat in his room afterwards spitting diluted blood into a spare cup. The monks fed him well, and no one was rude to him, but it was obvious to Su Yin they were all trying very hard not to think of him as a real person. He was just a sacrifice.

At night he lay on his bed, softer and cleaner than the one he’d had back at the foundling home, and started at the ornate carved ceiling supports which held up the complex roof of the temple. He was pampered and well fed, but he was bored. Su Yin sighed.

“I wish they’d just kill me already, and get it over with,” he muttered bitterly.

*

On the eighth day, a senior monk came to take him for his final bath, his hair was combed and tied up, and he was left to dress himself in the clothes which had been tailored for him. There were a pair of long black trousers and a fitted coat of red and gold brocade, embroidered with dragons, roosters, and lotus flowers, and secured with knotted silk frogs all up the front. There were no undergarments. Su Yin dressed and wondered how much money had been wasted on him when all he was going to do was die. Far less than would be needed to rebuild the town if the demon was not happy with him, he was sure.

The door to his room slid open, and the monk there bowed.

“It is time.”

“Oh.”

“Follow me.”

Su Yin wondered why he did not run. He had shoes on his feet, good clothes on his back, he was cleaner and better presented than he had ever been. If there was ever a time to run away, then surely it was now. But as soon as he saw the great statue of the yaoguai and the gate which lead to his temple in the high mountains, Su Yin knew he was not going to try and make a break for it. If he ran, the town he grew up in, the people who had raised and fed and clothes him, would all be at risk. And as he left his escort behind and joined the high priest on the lowest of the broad stone steps, Su Yin knew there was another reason he did not try and leave: he was curious.

The high priest was silent as they climbed the hill, quickly hidden from the view of the temple complex below by the thick green foliage, and Su Yin took the opportunity to look at the world around him for the last time. It was a cool, clear day, and Su Yin knew if the trees cleared, he would be able to see all the way to the sea until the world vanished from sight in the very far distance. There would be little boats with white sails bobbing on the glassy surface, the men on board hauling in nets of fish for their families, to preserve and sell to the traders who moved through the mountains with spices, rice, and fine fabrics. None of them would know he stood there, high above, feeling as out of place as a foundling child ever could, waiting to die so that they might live in the safely in the shadow of the demon’s mountain.

There was a gate, simple, and painted a rich deep red, set into the stone steps. After that, the stairs were narrower, steeper, and at their head was the temple of the yaoguai. It was grand, for a building which had been constructed on the otherwise sheer face of the mountain, with curving roof supports and dragons on guard over the entrance. On the first lacquered wooden step, Su Yin stopped. The high priest had not followed him.

“Take off your shoes.”

Su Yin did as he was asked.

“Give them to me. You will not need them again.”

“Here.”

“Your name will be recorded as a saviour of Laoshan. A burial mound will be raised in your honour so that your soul will be at rest. The gods will know of the sacrifice you made.”

Su Yin frowned, but before he could say anything, the high priest turned quickly, and hurried back the way they had come, Su Yin’s shoes clasped in one hand. He did not look back.

The boy sat on the step outside the temple, and gazed up at the sky. He missed the stars. He had wanted to tell the foolish priest, so full of his own faith and superiority, not to bother with funeral rites and ceremony. He’d be dead after all, what would he care if people spoke his name. No one had used his name since he’d been taken from the dormitory. He turned to face the temple, and stood.

“My name is Su Yin,” he proclaimed loudly to the listening birds. His voice echoed back at him from the mountainside, distorted by the distance. “And no one cares,” he muttered.

The red archway stood open and empty, and Su Yin could think of nothing better to do, than go inside.

*

He had expected there to be several rooms, but there were not. In the centre of the space stood a large raised bed of a style Su Yin had no seen before, though the coverings and pillows were all richly embroidered from the finest, heaviest silks. Over the intricately carved and lacquered headboard was a long mirror. It was so smooth and clean, it was like looking into a pool on a particularly still night. Su Yin tore his eyes away from his reflection, barely recognisable as the skinny, permanently grubby boy he’d always known, and scanned the pillars which supported the high roof, and the beautifully painted figures of the zodiac animals which stood there, keeping watch.

The sound of the heavy door behind him shutting made Su Yin swing around in panic.

“It is not fair to say no one cares about you Su Yin,” the yaoguai said with a smile, “after all, I care about you very much.”

Su Yin bowed his head immediately, and wondered if sacrifices were allowed to pass out with shock. He swallowed nervously, and looked up to regard the demon who had come to kill him, and who knew his name.

Whoever had carved the statue had been correct about the height, the broad shoulders, the red skin, the fangs, the green eyes. But Su Yin stared, because so much had gotten lost in translation somehow, or was coloured by awe, majesty, and fear. It wasn’t that Su Yin wasn’t afraid, but he blinked and stared at the beauty of the yaoguai who stood there, watching him with bright green eyes.

“Are you going to kill me?” Su yin asked eventually.

“Do you want me to?” the demon replied. Su Yin watched the shapes his black lips made as he spoke. His two pairs of fangs made it hard to follow, but his words were perfectly enunciated.

“No, not especially.” Su Yin shifted his weight uneasily. “Aren’t you supposed to?”

“I’m not ‘supposed to’ anything.” The yaoguai smiled, big arms crossed over his broad chest, and Su Yin couldn’t help staring. The demon wore his black hair in a complicated topknot, and a pair of baggy silk trousers. Like Su Yin, he was barefoot, and the boy watched the demon approach him across the intricately woven matting. He had claws.

“Tell me Su Yin, why do you think you’re here?” His voice was low and smooth, and Su Yin shuddered involuntarily.

He knew what the monks and the high priest would say, he knew what they would be telling the people of Laoshan about him. He was there to protect his town, to go willingly to his death, and to have no opinions about it at all. Su Yin blinked softly, then looked back at the big red demon, just inches away from where he stood.

“I’m here for you.”

“Mmm… good answer.” The yaoguai tilted his head, and Su Yin had the feeling he was being examined. “I killed the last boy they sent me. He wanted me to. He was very… driven by his need to give up his life for that little town. I don’t get that feeling from you, and you are much, much prettier than he was.” The red-skinned demon reached out and brushed the pad of one thumb down his cheek. “Tell me, what do you like, Su Yin?”

“Ummm….”

“You are a virgin.” It was not a question. “What do you like, when you touch yourself?”

Su Yin felt the blush heating up his cheeks before he’d even had time to form a reply. The demon simply watched him, smiling softly, his eyes full of curiosity.

“I-I-don’t!” Su Yin shook as he answered the yaoguai. “I don’t… do that. There’s no privacy in the dormitory.”

The demon arched an eyebrow at him.

“Never?”

“Twice,” Su yin admitted carefully.

“And what did you think of?” the demon practically purred. He touched Su Yin’s cheek again, tracing down to his jaw and along his neck. “You are very pretty Su Yin. Respectful Sound, it suits you well.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Ohhh, well there’s a loaded question, boy. There’s things I want I haven’t had in a long time. And you say you’re here for me.”

“Yes, sir.” Su Yin took a shuddering breath. “What’s your name? You do have a name, right?”

The yaoguai laughed, a big booming sound which echoed around the temple.

“Yes, little boy. I have a name. I am Guanyu Zhihao. But I think just Zhihao will do just fine.”

“Zhihao….” Su Yin tested out the red demon’s name on his tongue.

“Lick your lips.”

“Huh?”

“Lick your lips,” Zhihao repeated.

Su Yin nodded, remembering suddenly that he was standing before an all powerful yaoguai, and that he was still a sacrifice to the demon. Without breaking eye contact, he flattened the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, then curled it over his upper lip, making them glisten with his saliva.

“Again.”

Su Yin repeated the action, watching Zhihao’s green eyes as the demon followed every motion of his tongue and his lips.

“Again.”

Zhihao smiled at him, his chest rising and falling in manner which made Su Yin feel suddenly hot.

“Good. Now, undo your coat. No, start at the bottom.”

Su Yin’s fingers shook as he unclasped the silk frogs, until only the three from his throat downwards remained fastened.

“Lick your lips, and take off your trousers.”

The boy gulped, nervously, but just as he was about to bend, Zhihao caught him under the jaw with a firm grasp.

“Don’t be scared. I am going to ask you to do things you have never done before, but I will not hurt you. I promise.”

Su Yin would have thought the promise of a demon meant nothing at all, but the look in the bright leaf-green eyes dulled his cynicism before it was even formed. Nothing Zhihao had done suggested he was lying, and even without a demon’s power’s or abilities, Su Yin knew the big red yaoguai was strong enough to simply break him in half. But he hadn’t.

“Kneel down.”

It felt strange, to sink to his bare knees on the bamboo mat, the heavy silk brocade of his coat moving over his polished bare skin, in front of the demon he had been expecting to kill him the moment he appeared. Su Yin had heard the tales of enough drunken men late at night, or the other boys in the foundling home who had snuck out to the only house in the neighbourhood with lamps which glowed late at night, to know what would come next. He didn’t wait for Zhihao’s instruction, but reached out and tugged the loose silk of his trousers down. The demon stepped out of them, leaving his red body naked, and Su Yin couldn’t help but wonder if the sculptor had had any idea of what had lain beneath the demon’s clothes.

His cock stood away from his body, red, long, and thicker than Su Yin knew his own to be. He blinked, trying to focus on the rounded tip so close to his face, and licked his lips again. He glanced up at Zhihao’s soft groan.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted in a voice barely above a whisper. “Please, show me?”

Zhihao’s broad chest heaved, but the demon reached out, stroked Su Yin’s hair, then wrapped his fingers around the boy’s top knot. He tugged the young man forwards until the tip of his cock touched Su Yin’s wet lips.

“Go slow,” the yaoguai instructed, “but be brave. Use your tongue.”

Su Yin didn’t reply, but simply parted his lips and licked at the heat which pressed firmly into his mouth. Zhihao used the handle of his hair to draw him in closer, and Su Yin simply swallowed the demon’s erection as best he could. It was a strange feeling, having his mouth filled with something so unyielding, but soft, and warmer than he was. His jaw ached, and Su Yin tried to swallow. The moment his teeth came into contact with Zhihao throbbing length, the demon grabbed his jaw hard and held him tight.

“If I feel your teeth again, boy, you will regret it,” Zhihao snarled. Su Yin blinked hard, his vision swimming for a moment. The demon’s expression softened. “Ohh pretty one, I’m sorry. I forget you are new. You’re doing very well.”

Soothed slightly, Su Yin allowed the demon to guide him the rest of the way, until the entire length of his deep red cock was buried in the boy’s mouth, nudging the back of his throat, making it hard to breathe. Su Yin tried to do as he was asked, and pressed his tongue along the underside, smiling to himself when he felt the yaoguai’s racing pulse. Zhihao pulled his hips back slowly, and a few strokes later, Su Yin purred as the throbbing red cock thrust over and over into his mouth. Zhihao tilted his head, gaining deeper access to his throat, and Su Yin worked out when to inhale, when to suck hard, and when the angle gave him the best access to swirl his tongue over the smooth bulging head of the demon’s erection. The action brought forth a deep moan with every repetition, and Su Yin was aware enough to realise he was addicted to getting Zhihao to make that sound. The demon’s breathing became shorter, louder, and Su Yin kept his eyes fixed on the green gaze above him.

“You will need to swallow it all.” It was neither a question nor a threat, and Su Yin simply nodded by tiny increments, and watched the demon as his orgasm approached.

Zhihao’s black lips were slack, he panted and groaned in tandem, his eyes suddenly glassy and unfocused. His clawed fingers tightened against the back of Su Yin’s skull, but the boy didn’t mind the pain as the demon’s cock seemed to swell beyond all reason within his mouth, and wet heat suddenly flooded him. He drank Zhihao’s seed, at first because the demon had told him to, but then because the warmth which spread down his gullet was so incredibly delicious. Zhihao was salty like soy, but sweet like lotus moon cake, and Su Yin couldn’t get enough.

“Wait…” Zhihao panted in a loud whisper.

Su Yin parted his lips, and the demon held his lower jaw in soft fingers as he pulled back, ensuring the last dribble of his cum landed on Su Yin’s tongue. The boy held as still as he could, watching the demon’s green eyes burn bright with lust and desire.

“You are so beautiful.” Zhihao rubbed the head of his still-hard cock across Su Yin’s lips. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

The boy swallowed, then realised Zhihao’s gaze went beyond his face. He glanced down.

Waving at him, bobbing in time with his excited pulse, his own slender pink cock poked up through the open front of his silk brocade coat, rigid as the roof supports above them. Su Yin blushed, and tried to cover himself.

“No.” Zhihao’s tone made him glance up again, brows furrowed. “You never need to be embarrassed in front of me.”