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Chapter One
The Caves of Ladlaine
A thick smoke fills the air, choking my eyes and lungs. It’s coming from the burning herbs inside the thurible that the priestess in front of me swings from a long gold chain. My Priestesses chant their sacred hymns as they guide me down to the caves of the goddess Ladlaine. My mistress told me that very few ever get to see these caves and I am lucky to have the honor. I suppose I feel a bit lucky, mostly I feel nervous, nervous and excited because tomorrow will be my last day in this earthly realm.
I have never touched a man before, and no man has ever seen me, but every day I see the potentate and his vassals pass beneath the windows of my chambers, where I live secluded from the world under the mistress’ stern eye. The potentate has a finely made and handsome face, his eyes are an unearthly shade of green and they mesmerize me. His hair is golden and it falls, unruly, into his strong tanned face. His body is lean and muscular. Though a fear of the day that I will be given to him builds in me by the day, there is also a secret excitement beneath my fear.
At night I draw the gauzy draperies around my bed so that the priestesses cannot see me and I imagine the hands of the men I have seen through the window, as they take me. I imagine their cocks hardening beneath my lips as I pleasure them with my tongue and mouth. I reach down underneath my linen shift and rub the swelling place between my legs. In my mind the men lay me on a bed of red silk and hold me there. The potentate approaches me, naked, his thick red cock thrust out before him. I am getting wet and I begin to grind my hips against my stroking hands. In my minds eye I see the potentate position himself between my legs and as I imagine him entering me I slip a finger inside myself and try to stifle my moans of pleasure. My body bucks harder against my fingers in the intense thralls of pleasure as I picture him thrusting deeper and deeper into me until, I stop. I stop because I must not have the exquisite agony of a true orgasm until the potentate gives it to me on the day of my harvesting.
Lately I have been allowed to practice with the priestesses in order to prepare myself and my body for the girth of the potentate, but they only tease me with their tongues. They always withdraw as soon as they see that I am close. So, though I fear the harvest day and know that it will be my last day in this mortal life, still the very thought of it arouses me. We continue on deeper and deeper into the caves of Ladlaine. I am here to cleanse myself one final time before tomorrow. The path is narrow and dark. The only light comes from the glowing embers of the burning herbs in the thurible. Eventually we come to an ancient wooden door hewn into the stone. I am the last to enter though the door and as I do my breath catches in my throat.
I am standing in a great circular room. In width it might be forty feet, but the walls of the room loom up so far into the depths of the earth above us that I almost cannot see their end. Great gleaming brass braziers float high above us in a circle, alight with greenish flames. Before us are stone steps leading down into a dark pool. On the other end of the room a massive statue of the Goddess Ladlaine stands above the whole scene, one gargantuan scaled foot resting on a jagged piece of broken glass.
The Goddess Ladlaine is covered head to toe in scales stronger and sharper than any earthly metal, so whenever she is depicted she always shows us her strength by squeezing a metal blade or standing on the edge of a razor. In this case she holds a broadsword with no pommel or hilt. It juts out above the black water, its tip dangling just feet from the surface.
Her eyes appear featureless, they are filled with what must be thousands of emeralds, glinting in the light of the green flames. It appears almost as if she were a spider gazing down at us with her multitude of sparkling eyes. The long tresses of her black hair swirl around her shoulders until they join together to form great black chain with an enormous flail dangling from the end of it. The whole scene is terrifying, but I am powerless when two of the Blind Priestesses take my arms.
I have known the blind priestesses ever since I came here at the age of eight to be groomed for the potentate. They are young, neither is more than twenty-five. Mirelle has fair hair and Chasa, long dark hair that falls almost to her waist. Once they have pulled me down to the water’s edge, they slip off their golden sandals and step into the water. They walk down the steps until they are up to their knees and then motion for me to join them. I stand hesitantly on the step just above the surface of the black water. Its darkness and depth disturbs me.
When I first came to live in the towers of the reverent I remember being told that these waters reach down, deep into the center of the earth. It is through them that the terrifying Goddess Ladlaine enters the world from her watery underground lair. As I have grown older my faith has wavered from time to time, but now, standing here in the seemingly impossible room with the braziers floating above me, shedding an eerie greenish light over the unsettlingly lifelike statue, I have no doubts. My belief it as strong as it has ever been.
My two Blind Priestesses slip their heavy velvet robes off their shoulders and stand before me, naked and beckoning. I do not want to go in, but my mistress puts a strong hand on my shoulder and pushes me down until I am standing in the water. It is not cold like I thought it would be, but warm and comfortable. A faint sweet scent rises from the water, it soothes me and eases my ascent. Mirelle slips a hand under my linen shift and begins to massage my budding breast. A fire begins to spread through my already aching pussy as she toys with the tightness of my small nipples. Together my priestesses take hold of my linen shift and pull it over my head.
Until the day of my reaping I will wear only rough fabrics, but when I am sent to my masters I will be dressed in rich satin underclothing and a fine gown and cloak. It will please my masters to undress me and it is in their pleasure that the gods will feel pleasure. The dark haired priestess Chasa takes my other nipple in her mouth, as her hand reaches between my legs, it creeps up my thigh just to the edge of my cunt and the anticipation of it forces a small moan from my lips. My mistress frowns behind us,
“Take her to the alter to be cleansed,” she says in a stern voice.
The two girls giggle, they know that tomorrow they will loose me forever and they want to enjoy me before they do. Together we slip fully into the water. My hair has turned from a pale yellow to a rich gold when my head reemerges from the surface. My priestesses each take an arm and together they swim, with me held afloat between them.
I was never allowed to leave the towers of the reverent so I never learned to swim. In fact I have not been submerged in water this way since I was seven and I fell into a pond near my home. The priestesses will sometimes leave the towers and go down to the river to swim, so they are powerful swimmers. I watch their long lithe bodies moving through the water and think of how Mirelle told me sometimes they would meet men at the river and allow the men to pleasure them two at a time.
I picture it, Chasa with her dark hair rocking slowly back and forth on top of a muscled youth from the village, while his hard hot cock thrusts within her and he groans with the tightness of her wet pussy. Mirelle lies above his mouth and he draws circles with his tongue around her deep red clit. In my minds eye he takes it in his mouth and begins to suck hard on her nub, as my fair-haired priestess moans and reaches down to grip the hair on his bare chest. The priestesses, like me have been instructed in the arts of the flesh and like me on their nineteenth birthday they were given to vassals or high priests to be initiated into divine orgasm, but unlike me it is now their duty to regularly serve as a channels to pleasure. It is no longer necessary that their bodies abstain from ecstasy, whatever they enjoy, so too will the goddesses of our faith.
As we pass between the point of the sword and the massive bulk of the flail I look upwards to the statue. She is crowned in a circlet of gold studded with barbs of iron pointing downwards towards her scalp. Her green eyes seem to bore into me and I wonder if she can feel my lust. We arrive at her feet and the three of us climb dripping onto a stone platform. Carved to be another piece of broken glass jutting into her scales it is large enough to comfortably hold all three of us.
My Priestesses smile naughtily and set to work. Mirelle straddles me and pushes me back onto the floor while Chasa kneels between my legs. I feel her tongue glide over my stomach down to the soft sparse hair that covers my mound. Her tongue slips between my folds. The desire in me is mounting, becoming stronger. I think of the potentate and want so badly to feel his cock inside me that I almost scream out with the anticipation of it. Mirelle kisses me, her tongue slipping into my open mouth. I am moaning now as Chasa presses her tongue harder and harder against my aching clit. I want so badly for her to bring me to orgasm, but instead she withdraws from me, that pleasure must wait.
Her mouth finds its way to the soaking wet pussy of her companion and as she slips her tongue over and over Mirelle’s throbbing red clitoris she begins to moan deeply. They topple off me and I watch with longing as Mirelle slips her fingers down past the dark thatch of Chasa’s hair and between the red lips of her pussy, dripping now with wetness. Chasa gives a throaty moan and I can’t resist. I crawl over to her and begin to massage her full breasts. Her nipples harden under my touch and she grinds harder into her partners fingers. I remove her fingers and place my face up against her glossy red cunt. My tongue finds her clit and circles over it, once, twice and then with the third slow motion of my tongue she cries out and grips my back, undulating in waves of pleasure. I withdraw smiling.
We draw to the edge of the water and each of the girls hugs me, the warmth of their bare breasts pressing up against my body. I had not noticed before, but a stone basin of clear cold water sits against the wall at the far edge of the platform. Mirelle retrieves an engraved bronze vessel from beside the basin and fills it with water. Chasa kneels me before her and she pours the crisp cold water from the basin over my upturned face as they chant together in low voices echoing eerily off the stone walls.
They bring me back to the other side of the water where my mistress stands with a clean dry robe of black silk. This is what I will wear until tomorrow when I will be dressed to meet my masters. I try not to think of the clothes they will dress me in then, or the way the hungry lust of the men will rip them off of me. My mistress takes my hand and leads me back to the small wooden door in the side of the room. It looks much smaller from this side, pressed as it is against the hugeness of the chamber.
Chapter Two
The Virgin’s Bed
A strange feeling overwhelms me as we enter back into the passage on the other side of the door. After the bright enormity of the cave it feels as though I am in a different world. As we begin the long dark ascent through the small narrow caverns and back to the surface, I wonder for a moment if that other place was even real. After what feels like at least an hour of climbing, we come to another small wooden door and emerge into one of the many alter rooms in the complex of towers. My mistress removes a great iron ring of keys from a fold within her robes and once again locks away the secrets of Ladlaine. My two priestesses scurry off towards their quarters and my Mistress takes my arm and leads me out of the alter room to a stone staircase. We follow this up to a maze of corridors, “where are we going?” I ask her.
She replies in her usual brisk and icy manner, “I will take you to the virgin’s bed where you shall wait for your reaping.”
I hurry behind her until we come to a set of magnificent oak doors, she pulls them open to reveal a room with large windows. Against the windows is a bed with white silk hangings and a blanket of fine white fur draped over it. My mistress sits me on the bed.
“It very important that you hear me and hear me well, from now until you are brought to the potentate you must not speak. From now until you are brought to the grey tombs your cries of pleasure will be the first and last sounds to leave your mouth.”
My cunt begins once more to ache with longing when I hear her say this. I am scared, true, but the very idea of the frenzied carnal ecstasy that awaits me entices me more than I can possibly bear. I nod my head.
“We will come to you tomorrow to dress you and then you will be taken to the temple of Xerastes. From there the vassals will take you to the grey tombs and on the way you may be tested. You may pass people and things that will seem strange to you but you must not speak, that is very important, do you understand me?” I nod trying not to throw back my head and moan with the lust that is consuming me only thinking about tomorrow.
“The vassals will seal you into the tomb and there only you and your kind can know the mysteries that await you.”
I nod again and my mistress gives me an appraising look, “I have overseen the training of many of the Potentate’s gifts but none as lovely as you. Perhaps some better behaved, but no, none as lovely. He will enjoy you greatly I know that much.”
With that she leaves me. I do not sleep at all that night, a tight ball of nerves has grown in my stomach and it mixes with the lust that invades my every moment. I pace back and forth between the window and the bed. I gaze down at the palms gently swaying in a warm breeze that blows through the courtyard below, I may never see palms again.
After what feels like an eternal night, the first rays of morning light begin to peak over the horizon. As the sun emerges my lust and anxiety both begin to grow. I feel suddenly stiflingly hot and I throw open a window and lean outside to try and feel some breeze. As I am leaning out the window my gaze moves over the courtyard.
My old chamber and all the rooms into which I was allowed, faced inwards towards the center of the circle of buildings that make up the towers of the reverent, but I realize now that this room faces out. Out towards a world I have not seen since I was eight. I look out over the courtyard, trying to take in every detail while I still can. It is a market square filled with people going about their daily business. There are some people, more richly dressed than the others, who mill about beneath my tower. Some of them wear religious vestments. I know they are waiting for the news that I have sated the lusts of the potentate. I probably shouldn’t be leaning out this far, but I reason that I am too high up for any of them to see me. At the back of the crowd I notice a young man, he has narrowed his eyes and is peering at something off in the distance. I wonder what he is looking at. I rest my face on my palm and study him until I realize with a jolt that he is looking directly at me. He has seen me. I immediately retreat to the safety of the room.
This is the first man to see me in eleven years, some common village boy. My heart begins to pound and I take deep breaths to calm myself. How could I let this happen? The potentate should have been the first man to see me, but now I am despoiled. That sacred and ethereal vision of me has been ruined by some boy. I seethe at his audacity. Eventually though, I calm down and make a choice to ignore the incident, I will not let this utterly ordinary boy ruin everything for me, I will tell no one and soon I will be on my way to the Potentate to be splayed before him, waiting for him to enter me.
My lust, though momentarily quelled, grows once more as the sun rises. My priestesses finally come once it is directly above us. There are five of them and each one carries a different piece of my sacred vestments. I step out of my black silk robe and allow them to dress me. First a piece of red silk is wrapped around my waist and tied just below my entrance, then I am dressed in a tight black silk robe with a low neck. After that, an elaborate gold gown of finely embroidered brocade, its skirts sweeping back in an elegant train. My Priestesses fasten it tightly in the back with a line of elaborate bronze clasps. Before me they place a pair of white silk slippers. I step into the slippers and then finally they cloak me in a heavy velvet mantle of deepest blue, edged in gold damask and inlaid with pearls.
My dark haired priestess tenderly washes my hair and then pins it up into an elaborate bun, placing atop it a delicate crown of white gold inlaid with rubies. I step in front of the mirror to examine myself and gasp. All my life I have worn rough grey linens, I have kept my hair tied demurely at the base of my neck, I have never sought to be beautiful, but today what I see before me is nothing less then a Goddess. The rich fabrics that float around me make my pale skin almost glow in the midday sunlight. My hair, instead of being dirty and uncombed is carefully shaped into soft golden curls falling lightly out of the bun and around my face. I look back to my priestesses and I can see their desire for me, perhaps it is even greater today because they know that they cannot have me. They can never have me again. Today I belong only to the potentate and his vassals. I shiver with delight at the thought of it.
Chapter Three
The Silver Palanquin
My priestesses take me down a spiraling stone stair to an archway framed in golden light. Before we go through it, Chasa stands before me with tears in her eyes. I reach out and stroke her face. Though it pains me to leave her I know I will go on to greater things. By the end of today, I will be with the gods. Whatever that entails I know that only the greatest mysteries await me. She lifts the heavy hood of my cloak and pulls it over my head, just before the hood comes down over my eyes she kisses me softly on the lips and then I descend into darkness. The hood of the cloak is large enough to cover my whole head so that I may not be seen on my way to the potentate. I can see nothing through the dark folds of fabric, so I let myself be led by my priestesses out into what I suppose must be the courtyard. I have watched with envy as other gifts are taken to the temple of Xerastes, so I know what is happening when I am lifted off the ground and set down on a velvet cushion.
Last year’s gift was a beautiful dark haired girl with piercing green eyes. We were close and would often spend hours together, reading scriptures, painting, studying, enjoying the comfortable silences of companionship. Sometimes she would talk to me of how excited she was for her harvest day and about what we imagined might await us once we entered the grey tombs. She too looked beautiful on the day of her harvesting. I came to see her in the virgin’s bed and then watched through the windows as she stumbled blindly into the courtyard where four men stood, holding the four carrying poles of a magnificent silver palanquin carved with scenes from the scriptures.
One of the priestesses gathered up her slim form and gently set her down within the vehicle. I caught a glimpse of the velvet-lined interior before the door was shut and the palanquin was lifted onto the shoulders of the four brawny young men. They were all naked to the waist and a thrill of desire went through me as I watched their muscles tighten with the effort of hoisting the heavy palanquin, their glistening shoulders rippling in the midday sunlight. That day I cried, as much for her as for myself, I felt as though the coming year would be intolerable without her and I envied her for the fervor of passionate consummation that awaited her.
Once I am inside the palanquin I pull back my hood and look around. The interior of the vehicle is splendid. I am sitting on a pile of embroidered cushions and the walls are hung with velvet draperies. The silver ceiling above me is carved into a scene. It is the god Xerastes, his own vassals (lesser gods of our faith) Pytheum and Logastum and the goddess Sabina, she who gives her body so that we may have life.
Xerastes sits on a bed with Sabina on top of him lowering herself onto his erect cock, his three faces contorted into a wild groan of lust. Pytheum and Logastum stand behind them with pained looks on their faces as they await their turn with her. As for Sabina the look on her face is one of complete ecstasy. The carving was clearly made by a master smith, for it is detailed and finely wrought. The eroticism of the image is obvious, but beneath it is certain nobility as well. I brush my fingers over the taught leg muscles of the carved Xerastes and long to slip a finger inside of myself, but I do not.
Today I will remain untouched, my unquenched thirst building in me bit by bit until I allow the Potentate to release it in a gush of ecstasy. The bumpy wavelike motion of the palanquin isn’t helping though and by the time it is set down I have become so wet that I imagine the red silk knot tied at my entrance must be soaked with my lust. I hear the footsteps of the men as they retreat from the palanquin and I wait until the sound of them has died off completely before I emerge.
Chapter Four
The Temple of Xerastes
I am standing inside the high wall surrounding the temple of Xerastes. Xerastes is the highest of the gods. He is a broad shouldered man with three faces, the face of mercy, the face of wrath and the face of passion. His scepter is the trunk of a great oak, fashioned at the end into a point that he throws like a spear. Xerastes comes to earth and is incarnated into mortal form as the potentate, as his vassals, Pytheum and Logastum, are incarnated into mortal form as the vassals chosen by the potentate. Every year a virgin of great beauty is given to them as a gift so that they may fill her with their seed. The pleasure that all three will take in this act is of the utmost importance as it is this which will form the gift’s transcendence. After she has been entered time and time again by the holy men, after she has taken them in her mouth and slaked their lusts and she herself has been brought into the bliss of orgasm many times, then she can be sent to the grey tombs where she too will be incarnated with the spirit of the goddess Sabina, a beautiful woman who satisfies sexual appetites.
The courtyard that I stand in is planted with every imaginable tree, bush, or flower, most of which are foreign to me. Their brightness almost hurts my eyes after the dim interior of the palanquin. A marble path leads down the center of the garden courtyard to the massive steps of the temple, but before I can start upon it I must cross a featureless door of grey slate set into the ground. My steps sound hollowly within it as I cross, this is the door to the grey tombs, but I barely register its presence. I am far too focused on the coming of my reaping, the frenzy of lust that lies before me.
As I walk down the path my heart beats furiously and my craving grows into a painful ache. I have waited so long and now finally they will have me. Each footfall is another moment of delayed pleasure. My desire is so great it hurts. I know I should be walking slowly and deliberately in order to do justice to the solemnity of the ritual, but my excitement is such that it’s all I can do to stop myself from skipping up the steps of the temple to the archway beneath the marble columns.
I enter through a massive pair of wooden doors latticed with pointed wrought iron bars and carved with wild and exotic flowers and great trays of ripe and succulent fruits. The antechamber of the temple is massive and down the center are two rows of statues. They are the pantheon of the gods and as I walk between them, their empty stone eyes gaze down upon me in judgment. A sudden thrill runs through me as I realize that the female gods are all enflamed with desire, their swollen nipples hardened into points, some of them touching themselves, while the male gods are fully erect, their faces contorted in growls of passion. I clench my legs together as my pussy grows tight and wet between them.
At the end of the corridor of statues is a tunnel built into the far wall of the antechamber. A flaming torch sits in a sconce beside the tunnel and I take it and carry it with me through the dark corridor of red stone. My footsteps echo off the close walls and when I see a light at the end of it my heart is practically pounding out of my chest. When I emerge all thoughts leave my head and I drop the torch as the sight before me sends a conflagration of lust roaring through my body.
Chapter Five
The Reaping Room
The potentate sits on a golden throne clothed only in a garment of fine white linen. His muscular body seems to shine in the light of the flaming braziers beside him. At either side of him are his vassals, each of whom wears a black silk robe like the one that I had been gowned in the night before. Before him stands a great stone table, the alter upon which my virginity will be sacrificed to him. In my mind I had always pictured a bed, but this is so much more right. The idea of the hard stone pressing into my back as the potentate thrusts himself inside me sends another gush of wetness to the red knot above my entrance.
I bring my head up and look him directly in the eye, the look I see there is one of rawest lust. His eyes run over my body and I feel his gaze like fire as he takes in the curves of my waist, my breasts, my hips. I can see from here that his cock is already stiffening under his garment and I move forward with my eyes fixed on his piercing gaze. As I approach the throne the two vassals step in front of it. They are both handsome men, tall with broad chests. Pytheum has a cunning face with a strong chin and a sharp straight nose. He smiles slyly at me as his eyes roam over my body. His gaze enflames me and my every breath begins to catch in my chest. Logastum at his side appears more sensual, with his full red lips and an unruly head of dark hair. The Potentate’s voice speaks up from behind his vassals.
“Truly she is a beauty, don’t you think Pytheum?”
“I do, so fresh and ripe.” He smiles again, this time exposing his white teeth and his two sharp little canines.
“Do you think she will be too tight for us,” asks Logastum, “she is such a delicate little thing.”
“She has been prepared for us by the priestesses, we will not hurt her.”
“Only pleasure her,” Pytheum laughs.
I smile at this, I am aching for them to begin, to touch me, to fill me, but I know they will draw out my suffering.
“She smiles,” Logastum says.
“Do you think she wants us to undress her?” asks Pytheum.
I hold my breath and give a small nod. I do, I do so badly, but I must not say a word until they begin to touch me.
“I think,” Logastum says, slowly drawing out the word.
“Enough play,” comes the low voice of the potentate, hoarse with desire, “take her now.”
The men grin at each other and approach me. Pytheum moves behind me and reaches his arms around me to undo the clasp of my cloak. It falls to the floor and he presses into me, his cock hardening against my back. He puts his lips to my neck and, now, free to speak and make noise, I moan.
“Will you speak to us now?” asks Logastum as he kneels before me and I lift my skirts to expose the white satin slippers.
As Pytheum slowly makes his way down the line of bronze clasps, not taking his lips and tongue from the tender caress of my neck, Logastum runs his hands up and down my calves. I long for him to touch my thighs.
“Please, please,” I beg “take me, have me.” My swollen cit aches so much that I am almost in tears. The three men laugh.
“I think she wants us,” Pytheum says softy into my neck, “to fuck her. How shall we fuck you?” he whispers into my ear, “do you want it hard? Do you wish us to fuck you hard?”
I swallow the lump in my throat and my voice comes out pleadingly, “yes, yes, oh Gods yes.” He has come now to the last clasp and Logastum has finished taking off my shoes. He undoes the clasp and my gown falls off my shoulders exposing the much more revealing black silk dress beneath it. Logastum takes hold of the gown and yanks it down in one swift motion so that now the whole of my black shift beneath it is exposed. The Potentate’s eyes ravage my body again and the hunger in them grows. He throws off his own garment to expose his powerful legs and between them, his long, thick, red cock. It stands out straight in front of him and he begins to stroke it almost absentmindedly.
“Truly she is a beauty, so ripe, so young.”
Pytheum has begun once more to suck and lick at my neck with his firm wet tongue, but now his hands have crept over my chest. They are large enough to each fully cover one of my breasts, which hang plumply beneath the thin silk of the shift. He touches them and they begin to ache with the sensation of it, my nipples harden and he gives each of them a tweak sending yet another gush to my overflowing cunt.
“Touch them,” I moan, “bite them.”
Pytheum laughs into my neck, “do you think she will be too tight for us?”
“You must loosen her for me,” says the Potentate, now running his fingers up and down the length of his cock.
“Gladly,” says Logastum, as he lifts the skirts of my black dress over his head. Pytheum runs his hands over my breasts, squeezing and pinching them to elicit my moans of pleasure, and I feel Logastum run his hands up to my thighs and spread my legs apart. I open them willingly for him, but I keep my eyes locked on the potentate’s. Logastum takes the red silk knot in his teeth and unties it with his mouth, his hands still running up and down my legs.
It is not an easy task and with each of his efforts the knot grinds into my pussy, building the aching tightness within me, bit by bit. Finally with one last long tug of his teeth the knot is undone. Behind me Logastum has begun to grind the hard swell of his erect cock into me, the two of us gently rocking back and forth. He is panting into my neck with the effort it takes him not to spill his seed right then and there. The red silk falls away and Pytheum’s tongue traces the outside of my lips. I gasp as his tongue enters me. The feeling is sensational, the wetness of it probing inside of me. He slides it slowly up to my clit and I cry out with the overwhelming feeling of it. As his tongue glides smoothly over my clit I can feel that I am close to the edge. My urges overtake me and I begin to rock myself back and forth over his tongue, guided by Logastum as he moves his hard hot cock against my back. Then finally as our movement reaches a frenzied pitch and Logastum moans into my neck I topple over into climax. Waves of pleasure and release pouring over my body as I release another gush of wetness onto Pytheum’s tongue.
As the waves of pleasure come to a slow end, Pytheum withdraws himself from under my skirts and smiles at me, licking his lips.
“She is certainly sweet my lord, you will enjoy to taste her.”
Logastum moans again into my neck still bucking his hardness into me with the lust of unquenched desire.
“I want to be inside her now,” he says in a low voice. I have throughout my orgasm kept the Potentate’s eyes trained on mine, though now I almost cannot bear it any longer. Hunger, lust, desire and power mingle in his expression of restraint. I can see the effort it takes to keep himself from leaping from the throne to have me. I stare him down and lick my lips, beckoning him with a single finger as my heart thumps away in my chest. Pytheum stands in front of me running a hand down my arm,
“I imagine she is too tight for you my lord perhaps we should-”
“Enough,” the Potentate roars as he rises from the throne. His voice is a deep growl as he descends the stairs of the plinth on which his chair is perched, each step an agony of deliberation and restraint.
“I will have her now.”
“Of course my lord.” Pytheum replies, disappointment fleeting briefly across his face. He moves away from me and takes Logastum with him, though Logastum is reluctant to leave me. The Potentate approaches me, he is magnificent, tall and perfect, the muscles of his haunches ripple like those of some great beast as he walks. Now that he is entirely naked I can see the tense muscular curves of his ass as he moves towards me. He reaches me and puts his hands on my shoulders pushing me to the ground to kneel before him. I have awaited this moment for so long and as I take him into my mouth his heat and his girth reawaken the lust, which had slept, so briefly after my first orgasm.
Ever so slowly I tease my tongue around the tip of him and I look up to his face, to see the look of pained longing this gives him. I feel it myself, I want so badly for him to be inside me, but instead I run my tongue along his shaft and I feel the muscles tighten in his legs. I grip the smooth cheeks of his ass as I swallow all of him into my mouth. My pussy is beginning to ache once more, it is begging to be filled. I move my mouth up and down his shaft, caressing him with my tongue, oblivious to all but the feel of his hardness and the aching desire to have him pounding into me. As my momentum builds he takes my head and begins to guide it back and forth and then he lets out a great moan and for just a moment my tongue feels his seed begin to rush towards the tip of his cock, but then with a roar he tears himself out of me.
I can see him stifling his own orgasm for a moment and then he looks me in the eyes and says, “Take her and hold her. I will not come, but that it is inside her.”
A tingling thrill runs through me and I barely notice when Logastum and Pytheum take either of my arms and lift me up, placing me down roughly onto the great stone alter. They are both naked now and were I to look I’m sure I would see that their own red cocks are stiff and erect and their faces filled with the agony of lust, but I cannot take my eyes from the potentate. The hunger in his gaze sends shivers up my spine.
Once I am secured to the alter, my arms pinned to the cold stone by the men on either side of me, the potentate climbs towards me, the bones in his broad shoulders going up and down like a lion’s as it moves to pounce upon its prey. I writhe in anticipation of him. He rips the black dress off my body as though it were tissue paper, leaving me exposed before him, my swollen breasts heaving with each deep, ragged breath I take. He leans back to survey his work and then with a growl he forces my legs apart and I moan, needing to be filled, to be sated.
“Take me,” I pant, “come inside me.”
He lowers his cock to my entrance and I pant loudly again for him to enter me. Then with one smooth motion he thrusts himself inside me. He is so big and my cunt so tight around him. The feeling of him stretching me almost to my breaking point is painful but exquisite. I am filled with him and my small cunt squeezes tight around him so that I can feel every ripple and vein in his enormous cock.
I cry out when he leaves me, immediately wanting to feel him inside me again, but he takes himself almost fully out and then thrusts himself inside again, this time to the hilt and I gasp at his fullness. He pulls out again and then thrusts back in creating a rhythm, rocking himself slowly in and out of me as I gasp and moan.
“Faster,” I whisper, “I want you faster, harder.”
He obliges, pounding into me now, slamming my body against the stone, but I do not care, so taken am I with the rush of climax that is building inside of me. Then with a final long slow thrust he fills me entirely, grinding himself deep inside me. He arches his fine back and his face contorts. He cries out, a wild and primal groan and I feel his seed rushing into me. He gives one final push, hard, hard, into my throbbing pussy and then I too groan, rushing over the edge into the agony of orgasm.
My body is wracked with shivers of ecstasy as I come down from my orgasm. Together we ride out the diminishing waves of pleasure and then he rests inside of me for a moment before drawing himself slowly out of my body. I open my eyes and look to the faces of Pytheum and Logastum, I can see they are excited that now it is their turn.
“May we take her now my lord?” asks Pytheum and I grind my hips into the air because even after the Potentate, still my lust is not sated. I must have more, I want both of these men as well.
“You may,” says the Potentate, as he returns to his throne to pick up his linens and fasten them about his waist.
“Pytheum allow her to ride you and then you shall have her mouth and Logastum, you her tight young cunt. I shall watch while I rest and then if you are able to arouse me again, perhaps all three of us will take her.”
I moan at this, the thought of having all three men inside me is delicious enough to make me wet again.
The Potentate laughs, “I see she is a lusty gift.”
Pytheum smiles and approaches me, a greedy look in his glinting eyes. I like the idea of riding him. So I pull his shoulder to me and then push him down onto the stone alter. Logastum sits to the side, devouring the two of us with his eyes and lightly stroking himself. I imagine he wants to save his energy for his own turn with me. Pytheum takes my wrists and eyes me as I straddle him.
“Are you eager for more my gift?” he asks me with a glint in his eye. I nod shyly as I lean down to take his erection in my mouth. I move it in and out of my mouth and then lift myself up so his tip rests on my entrance. I rub myself back and forth against his tip and he growls and snaps at me.
“Pull me onto you,” I whisper and he grins. He takes hold of my buttocks and pulls me gently onto his erection. He is large and I can feel myself stretching deliciously to take him in. I moan deeply as I cascade down around him. Once he is buried deep inside me I begin to rock back and forth. The fine hair around the base of his cock rubs roughly against my clit making it pulse and swell while I ride him, pressing him as deeply inside me as he will go. I press myself back and rub his cock up and down my front wall. He closes his eyes and makes a face of purest yearning. He grabs my hips and holds me still while he thrusts them in and out of me, starting to move faster. I seize his hands and place them on my hips, so he can hold me in place and then I begin to bounce.
I start slowly and then move faster and faster until he is moaning and I am giggling. I look at Logastum and see that he is more aroused than ever at the sight of my bare breasts jiggling with the motion of my body. As I feel Pytheum beginning to come inside me I beckon to Logastum, I am not nearly sated with them. Pytheum gives a plaintive moan as he comes and my sensitive cunt is so tight around him that I can feel his seed moving through his cock. Logastum comes over to me and kisses me, his greedy tongue slipping into my mouth as I clutch Pytheum's cock with the tightening muscles in my cunt and feel him empty himself into me. He is finished, but I want more.
With Pytheum still inside me I lean down to put my lips around Logastum, whose heated red shaft is already harder than my wildest dreams. I am so anxious now for more and more pleasure that I do not even bother teasing him. I swallow him immediately and begin to suck hard around his shaft, but in a firm voice he says, “No,” and pushes me off him. I look up at him with pleading eyes. Roughly he pulls me off Pytheum, who is dreamily resting in the bliss of his orgasm. He forces me down. My cheek presses into the cold stone of the table as he holds my head down against it. The sensation of it arouses me terribly.
“Oh Gods, oh Gods,” I moan, not knowing how long it will be until he enters me, and unsure if I can endure my own need. I feel the warm pressure of Logastum’s tense body as he lays himself down on top of me, puts his lips to my ear and whispers.
“I will fuck you I will come inside of you.” With that he thrusts himself inside of me, and the fullness of him shoots into me like an electric shock. I moan, he is not as big as the Potentate, but he is bigger than Pytheum and so I feel myself stretching again to take him in. He moves slowly, through I long for him to pound himself into me. Instead he takes his time, building my pleasure with each skillful thrust. He has perfect control and he can slowly rub his cock inside me, drawing lines against my wall and building the feeling deep within my cunt until I am again on the precipice of bliss. Then with a long slow thrust he pushes himself into that same spot and I feel as if I have broken open around him. I cry out as if in pain, tears come into my eyes and I want to kiss him, but I don’t because I can feel that he is emptying himself into me. He gives a groan and collapses atop me.
I roll him off and lay on top of him, his face in my hands, furiously kissing him, drawing his life’s breath into me, until I feel a pair of strong hands pull me away from him. It is the potentate and I turn to him instead and clutch his face kissing him just as passionately, greedy for the hot wetness of his mouth. His thick tongue forces itself between my teeth and it’s probing hardness enflames me. The Potentate pulls away from me and stands, his erect cock inches from my face. He forces my mouth open and guides himself inside. I grind my hips against the empty air as the licentiousness of the act has made me ache again with lust.
As I take him, moving my lips and tongue up and down his magnificent cock my lust grows. I want to be brought to orgasm once more. I yearn to be touched, but before I can moan with need, I feel a pair of hands sliding up the sides of my legs. In a single move they reach up to my throbbing lips and separate them. I almost shriek with pleasure and shock when I feel a tongue insert itself into me, but the Potentate fills my mouth. The tongue presses harder and harder, as I suck more greedily at the Potentate’s cock, clutching the warm smooth stone of his legs and buttocks. Closer and closer the tongue moves to the swollen aching rosebud of my clit, until I can stand it no more. I push the Potentate away from me and look steadily into his eyes, wordlessly begging him to fuck me.
The tongue of the man below me, inches itself ever closer to my clit and when he finally touches me there I throw back my head and shriek in orgasm. I can barely hear the Potentate as he commands the remaining vassal to hold me down, and before my orgasm has finished I am tossed to the cold surface of the stone table and my legs are pulled roughly to the edge of it. The Potentate thrusts himself into me before I have even finished my orgasm and the feeling of his heat, his girth charging into me, hammering my flesh into his own prolongs my orgasm, so that as he moves within me I am washed with great billows of pleasure.
Logastum, who holds my hands, puts his cock into them while Pytheum kisses my mouth and then opens it gently to insert himself into me. I moan into his cock and it moves harder, deeper, more swiftly into my mouth, I can feel his urgency as he pounds into me. He doesn’t care if he is hurting me, as he fucks my face, but then neither do I. The pain only mingles with the deep ecstasy of being filled. The thought that I am servicing all three of them at once sends a spurt of wetness cascading, out of me, and over the Potentates cock, lubricating him so he can glide smoothly in and out of me making me clutch in the spasm of orgasm. He gives a great animal groan and empties himself into me again, his face contorted, his hands gripping the stone of the table so tightly that I can see blood leaking out from where the stone cuts into them. As he groans I feel that Logastum too is spurting, his tight hard cock erupting over my hand.
Pytheum gives a final groan and then he too, with his master and his brother, comes, the liquid of his warm seed hitting the back of my throat in a gush. With that, with all three men relieving themselves into me, I scream, overtaken by the great quaking spasms that engulf my body.
I come down from the orgasm and though Logastum and Pytheum both withdraw from me, the Potentate leaves his member inside me for the twenty minutes it takes for my body to come down, in great racking shivers, from the effects of my powerful orgasm.
Chapter Six
Antechambers
An hour later I am lying on a pile of cushions in a chamber behind the alter room. Logastum has brought me a physic and I sip it from a golden chalice, but after the excitement of my harvesting I am utterly spent. The Potentate and his vassals also seem exhausted. Once the Potentate withdrew himself from me he kissed me gently on the lips and then picked me up and carried me into this room, so that I would not spill even a drop of the precious seed within me. He lies here holding me, kissing my neck and occasionally stroking my hair. Though I try not to let even a drop of seed spill from between my legs there is so much of it inside me that some does seep out. Its warmth comforts me, I reach down and bring the drops of it to my lips, tasting the sweetness of my lords.
My whole life has led to this day. I was meant for the act that took place in that alter room. It was more glorious than I could have possibly imagined. All my urges so pent up and then to be finally released in a flurry of licentious orgy. I am finally satisfied and when I am ready I will go back through the alter room where my virginity was sacrificed, down the long red corridor. I will continue out of the temple and back through the gardens, but instead of leaving by the front gates, I will stop before them, kneeling in front of the grey door set into the ground and pulling it open so that I can descend to the mysteries that await me in the grey tombs.
Suddenly I am shocked from my reverie by a sound. It is a great crash, coming from the alter room. The Potentate leaps to his feet. I hear shouts and harsh words and then the unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn.
“Stay here,” commands the Potentate, “do not leave unless I allow it.”
I give a fearful nod, but he barely has time to see it before he darts away into the other room. I hear a scream and then a groan of pain. There are the sounds of men fighting and then a blast and a great crack. I hear a man cry out in a groan of pain and this time I can hear that it is the Potentate. Heedless of his words, my chest seizing in the anguish of thinking that he might be hurt I rush into the alter room.
The great stone alter has been cracked in half and Pytheum and Logastum both lie to the sides of it. Pytheum appears to be unconscious, his head is bleeding, but apart from that he may be unhurt. Logastum has been cut in the leg and he clutches it, moaning in pain while blood pours from between his fingers, but I can barely see any of it because in front of me, the Potentate lies lifeless on the ground, a broadsword standing straight up from the center of his chest. I give a cry and run to his side, clutching his hands and kissing his lips, desperately trying to stir him back into life. I hear a man’s voice above me and look up to see a young man standing above me, a black cloak swirling around his shoulders, with a shock I realize that it is the same man who had glimpsed me in the crowd this very morning. He reaches out a hand to me.
“Come with me Lisentia, come if you wish to live.”
The End