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Kravitz had not been afraid of his death. He did not beg for his life in his final moments, nor cry, nor shake. Not even in the immeasurable time afterwards where his soul was allowed to explore the astral plane did he allow his composure to slip.
His mortal life had been nothing but preparation for what was to come after - prayer and worship to the old god known to him and his commune as the Raven Queen, diligence in virtuosity, in fasting, and poverty, and chastity.
A holy life was what The Queen asked of them, he'd been told. It was what She wanted, he'd believed.
Kravitz had not been afraid to die. But, finally kneeling in Her awesome presence, and hearing Her giggle as he explained his mortal lifestyle... well. That certainly made him afraid that he might be missing something.
"Oh, sweetheart, erm-" A quick glance at the scroll in front of Her, "Kravitz. It's been a very long time since an Acolyte of mine passed into my realm. I was starting to think I'd seen the last of you."
Kravitz said nothing, but raised his eyes from where they had been fixed on the ground. She was beautiful in a way that none of the holy texts or paintings could ever come close to portraying, curvaceous and defined at once, with skin easily as dark as his own and reflecting a glowing sheen. If She had ever dressed like the scrolls told, She certainly didn't now - a thin cape affixed with collar of feathers and bones was the most regal part of Her ensemble. The rest was skin-tight, clinging, with long, heeled boots that made Her legs look-- Kravitz averted his gaze back to the floor.
If She noted his lingering gaze, She didn't mention it. "Maybe, thousands of years ago, those kinda of practices were what it took to please me. Maybe mortals just delight in torturing themselves for what they perceive the gods to want. But, hm. Dear Kravitz. A life of sacrifice and chastity will not gain you any leeway here. I'm simply looking for potential bounty hunter recruits, and you have been well-behaved in your afterlife thus far."
Kravitz inhaled on reflex, although he knew he didn't need to. "We don't live those lives f-for leeway, or reward. We-- I did it to honour you, my Queen."
Oh, that sounded so self-satisfying, when he phrased it like that. It was true that he'd dedicated his life to Her selflessly. He didn't know why he felt the need to try and impress Her now, after he'd passed.
"Mm, sweet of you," She mused, as one might discuss the weather, "but- chastity? As in, nothing? I don't mean to be rude, just, where do mortals even get these ideas?"
Kravitz felt his face heat. He had been told his body would no longer work like this in the Astral, but it seemed many inklings of humanity were left in him. "I, um. That's right, my Queen. Nothing."
She smirked, told him She would be in touch about the bounty hunter position, and for an immeasurable amount of time, that was that.
--
When Kravitz was summoned to Her office once again, he was sure it was to receive the news that he had been unsuccessful in attaining a bounty hunter role. She had seemed to like him, or at least he hoped, and She had smiled quite a lot during their last meeting, but. A person who makes people smile with their stumbled phrases is not the kind of person who makes for a very good soul reaper.
He knocked on the heavy wooden door leading to Her wing of the grand castle, under which he knew the Eternal Stockade was kept. At Her call of "come in!", he entered, and dropped to one knee in a solemn bow.
"My Queen, I-"
"Oh, Kravitz, stand. I didn't call upon you for formalities."
He bit his lip, unsure, but complied. His eyes flicked to where she stood, and, oh, this really wasn't a formal audience, if her outfit was anything to go on. She wore a robe in deep purple silk, close enough to be confused with black, and a flowing train causing the garment to toe the line between loungewear and slim ballgown. It plunged deep in the front, and he glanced sliver of lace trim between Her breasts, and-- eyes down.
"I'd like to make a few things very clear - you don't owe me anything, first. I am a goddess but I am foremost the overseer of the Astral, meaning keeping souls like yours content in their afterlife experience is a high priority of mine. If you're uncomfortable, I encourage you to leave, but... Kravitz, if you give me your consent, I would very much like to show you that there are many ways to worship somebody. And not all of them involve a vow of chastity."
It took Kravitz an immeasurable amount of time to process Her words, and even more to consider them. He had- been tempted before, in life, by beautiful men and women who he might have had something with, had circumstances been different, but the thought of- with Her, his Queen and Goddess- it had him too startled to think.
His wide eyes found Her figure again. He never expected- never could have imagined, in even the wildest or most prophetic of dreams, that She would be so indescribably beautiful.
(He never expected to be standing in Her presence, allowing himself to think such things.)
(And yet.)
He licked his lips. "My Queen," he began, voice shaking in the echoey hall, "I won't- if I'm interpreting your meaning correctly, I wouldn't be a fit choice, you deserve..." he trailed off, breathless. Not a single thing he could conceive was enough to encapsulate what She deserved. His knees felt weak. Surely this was a test, or a joke, but Kravitz wasn't sure how he'd manage to pass.
"That's sweet of you, my dear, but I have had a great many millennia to practice knowing what I want. And to learn how my most loyal followers should be treated," She approached him, heeled boots clacking hard against the stone floor, "you worked so hard in mortal life. Let me help you relax."
She was so close he could feel Her breath, see every strand of Her loose hair as it fell over Her shoulders, down Her long neck. Kravitz raised his eyes, meeting Her own. He only got a moment to see himself reflected in the blackness of them before She was leaning in, tilting Her head to catch his lips in a kiss.
Ever-faithful, he followed.
--
Kravitz was not an imaginative man, so his thoughts had never strayed to what his Goddess' private chambers might look like, but he was sure now that his mind would never have fathomed anything this grand anyhow.
He wasn't sure if Gods needed sleep, or if Her grand, oversized bed was solely for...other things, but it looked beautiful and plush all the same, with an ornate obsidian frame carved to look like a flurry of wings, and sheets of the softest maroon silk he'd ever seen.
His Queen took the vision from beautiful to breathtaking as She sat on the edge, robe considerably more dishevelled but painted lips still somehow pristine.
"Kravitz," She breathed, like a soft commandment. She let Her thighs fall open, and if Kravitz still had breath in his vessel, it would have caught in his throat.
She had laughed, as they'd kissed their way into Her room. Not a lot, and not spitefully, but enough to let him know that his earnestness and virginity both were showing. He had never had a reason to be embarrassed about either of those things, but now it felt vital that he knew how to please Her.
Without allowing himself any more time to think, he dropped to his knees before Her. Between Her legs. She unfastened her robe so that it fell loose, and oh, Her breasts, Her dark, perfect skin, his mouth watered at every inch.
"My loyal Kravitz," She sighed, one hand finding the back of his head, "come, darling."
He didn't need any further encouragement. His shaking hand came to rest on the inside of Her thigh - so soft and so powerful - and his mouth found Her sex, that first rich taste of Her causing him to whine.
This was his Queen. His Goddess. Parting Her legs to grant him access to Her most intimate self. Kravitz was shaking with what felt like every emotion as he licked a careful stripe between the folds of Her. If Her wish was for him to bring Her pleasure, he would not allow himself to disappoint.
"Wh-What do I do?" He breathed, staring up at Her and almost regretting it for the overwhelmingness of Her beauty.
She smiled down at him, and it felt like the warmest rays of sun.
"Use your tongue as if it's reciting a prayer. And," She shifted one leg over his shoulder, bringing a hand between Her thighs to graze a finger over the hard nub at the crux of Her, "here."
Kravitz obeyed without question, heat curling in his gut as he nuzzled back into Her, kissing at Her thighs before experimenting with running his tongue over the length of Her. Her taste was like a concentrated version of the scent he'd caught while She'd kissed his neck, it was intoxicating, he had no way of knowing if this was how it felt with every person but somehow he suspected this infatuation was all because it was his Queen.
Her thighs shook as he sucked at the bud of flesh, and then travelled down to find Her entrance, slick and wanting like he was sure his face looked, too. Kravitz's tongue slipped inside, laving at what he could reach of Her walls. Giving Her pleasure like this... maybe he should feel powerful. Like She needed him. He wasn't sure. He knew, though, that all he felt was beautifully, fantastically subservient, with the dark flesh of Her thighs framing his head. She was using him as a tool.
His heart jumped at the thought, as the heat in his belly pulsed. He could still remember the old prayers. Use me, Goddess of the Astral, take my vessel for your will, Kravitz allowed his hands to grip her hips, dragging Her down to smear Her fluid across his face and buck into his unworthy mouth, use me, use me, use me...
His Queen and Goddess reached Her climax with a hoarse gasp, and Kravitz stayed there, wanting, licking at Her wet folds, until She brought a hand to his cheek.
"Oh, darling... you were wonderful, pet," She removed Her legs from his shoulders, adjusting Her robe from where it had fallen to pool around Her hips. Her eyes were wet and glazed, and Her skin prickled with gooseflesh even under so much gentle silk. He'd known since his first mortal years that he'd loved Her, but this intimacy left him dazed in a way he never thought he'd experience. He stayed, sitting back on his knees, and tried not to stare as his Queen collected Herself.
"Shall I take care of that for you?" She quirked one manicured brow and looked down at him, to between his-- oh. He'd barely noticed.
Usually, he'd felt strange about getting in this state, either trying to distract himself or occasionally indulging in the pleasure, face buried in his bedroll and ashamed that She might see. And now She did see, and the strange feeling remained, but different; his erection strained in his pants and he wanted to touch, or- let Her touch. The thought knocked a wind out of him that his lungs no longer carried, and without intention, his hips stuttered against nothing, eyes squeezing closed as to not have to meet Her gaze.
"I- Goddess, my Queen, you shouldn't soil your hands..."
She grinned at him, deep ruby lips parting to display sharp canines. "Don't fret, dear one. I won't."
Entranced as he was by Her smile, he didn't notice Her stilettoed boot until it was brushing his thigh, creeping closer to his concealed length. A pulse of want so bone-deep it almost made him wail washed over him as his mind caught up with what She was doing to him. He had lived a humble life but there was a difference between humility and degradation, and unused to the feeling though he was, Kravitz whined for Her all the same.
She looked so regal above him now, measured and controlled despite Her state barely a moment ago. The sole of Her polished, pointed boot made contact with him through the cloth, and without thinking, he leaned into the touch, nuzzling against Her knee as he thrust against the leather.
"Your adoration is so flattering, dear," he wasn't looking, but he could hear Her smile, "that you'd let me do this to you. That you're so eager you'll allow yourself to be degraded, hm?"
Kravitz couldn't speak. She angled Her foot down to press firmer onto him, and it took barely a moment before he felt himself tense and then release, dirtying himself in his pants beneath Her stare.
It had never felt so... much before. His entire body felt as if he were floating, or asleep, more so than what he'd come to expect from the afterlife.
"Thank you, m-my Queen," he breathed, shame creeping through his veins. His eyes stayed on his knees, cheeks burning, until Her finger found his chin, drawing him closer so She could kiss him.
"Shh, no need, no need," She cooed, before adjusting Her posture and standing. "You were marvellous, Kravitz."
More than anything so far, Kravitz found himself shocked most by the way She offered Her hand, and helped him to his feet. He felt sticky and sore, but once he stood, his primary concern was trying to decide what to do with his hands. Did She want him to touch Her more? Would it be rude to regress back into his soul light form so at least he didn't have to decide where to fix his eyes? Would- where were the lines to be drawn in their interactions now that they had-
"Delightful though this was, I have work to attend to." Her crisp accent cut through his thoughts, and he barely held back a disappointed whine.
"However, I encourage you to return to my chambers at a later time, to discuss the potential of your future as a bounty hunter," a shining, red grin, "or, to not."
Words caught in Kravitz's throat and he barely remembered to bow before stumbling out of Her bedroom door. His face burned. He felt a mess, and probably looked it too if the way the castle guards were smirking was any indication.
He felt dazed. He felt used, and satisfied. And he felt very much alive.