Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.
"Kami-sama," Mikami Teru uttered as he fell to his knees, his body trembling as he wrapped his hand around the hard, rigid flesh between his legs. The Death Note was his now, given to him by his god.
He moved his hand slowly, languidly, toying with the sensitive head of his cock. It was not his hand, but the hand of his god that he imagined touching him like this. He could hear the voice of his god whispering into his ear, telling him things that were for his ears alone.
His hair, now damp from sweat, covered his face like a veil, but he dared not touch it. No, to focus on anything else but this act would be disrespectful. No other thoughts could fill his mind but this.
His body shook, and the only sound he made was a groan as he spilled unto the ground beneath him. The voice faded into nothing and the hand on his now flaccid cock was once again his own.
"Thank you Kami-sama," Mikami mumbled as he wrapped his arms around himself.
Until now he had never truly felt like he had a purpose. Until now he had never felt true pleasure. Only his god could give him these things. Only his god could take these things away.
He rose to his feet and gathered his clothing. As he dressed he looked at the picture of his god. It was an improperly built altar, but once the New World was established he would be able to create a proper altar. One that befitted his god.
But for now, there was still much work for him to do.