1 comments/ 10635 views/ 1 favorites The Altar By: ReverendFrishie I just wanted to thank everyone for reading the original of this story. I've taken the time to give it a massive overhaul and I hope everyone likes it. Enjoy. * In the dimly lit dining room, John sipped his wine. His eyes went from the front door down the hall to the clock, a thousand thoughts running through his mind. Where was she? Who was she with? What was she doing? Absentmindedly, he filled his glass with the dark merlot again. He sat silently, staring at the clock, sipping his glass empty without another thought. Time passed and so did another glass, which did nothing for John's temper. Anger began to enrage his senses, and he shattered his fragile wine glass with one firm squeeze. "Shit!" he growled, glaring at the door, "she will be punished for making me wait." The up until now, lifeless panel of wood shook weakly as a soft fist hammered it from the other side. "You're late!" he howled down the hall. John stormed down the hall and tore the door wide open, almost breaking it off its hinges. He took one look at the alluring figure in his doorway and melted into her eyes. "Well, come in," he spoke, half-sternly. No matter how angry she made him, John loved her too much to stay so angry. "My deepest apologies, Sir," Samantha muttered. He watched as the carnal figure swept in, then closed and locked the door. The air seemed to flow with her every movement down the hallway to the dining room. Each strand of her long hair swayed freely as her slender, yet curvy physique enticed him to follow her. John particularly liked her dress, this evening. It was long and raven black, the same as her hair, with a long slit going the full length from high above the hip to the ankle on her left leg. He could just barely see her waist at the cusp of the slit and it drove him wild. Then, he noticed her shoulders. Samantha looked back for only a moment over her left shoulder. Her lips parted and she dropped her coat lewdly down her arms. She spread her fingers through her hair, pulling it up, deliberately exposing her neck. She knew he loved her neck the most; so tender and aching to be bitten. Samantha continued to play her little game, teasing him and driving him even hotter with lust. With gradual, languid movements she raised her left foot onto the chair and meticulously slid her hands up her thigh, pulling her dress up to completely expose her leg. Samantha could feel his eyes burning on her skin as she unclasped her six inch heel and kicked it to the floor. As much as she loved toying with John's mind and libido, she knew her role. "Why are you late," he spoke in a stern, steady tone. Her lips trembled immediately in response to his voice. Samantha knew she would be punished, and a whimper of panic and desire slipped from her lips. Deep inside, she loved when he punished her, but hated it when she had to be. She loved John with all of her heart, mind, and body. She wanted nothing more than to make him happy and do as he asked, but sometimes disappointing him was unavoidable. To every other woman, he must have been the tall, dark, and handsome stereotype, but she knew differently. He was hers as she was his. He was so much more than his businessman facade. "It was traffic, Sir. Am I to be punished?" Samantha asked nervously as she unfastened her other heel. He looked into his beloved's eyes with a genial smile and struggled to read her thoughts. "I see no reason to punish you for heavy traffic. It's something outside your control, and I am not so unfair as to punish you for something outside your control." John glanced at the table and nodded, signaling a command Samantha already knew. She understood completely. It was going to be like last month when he tied her to the table for the first time. She sighed with an overeager anticipation and cleared the table of the broken glass and wine bottle. As she folded up the table cloth, enthusiasm drained from her expression as she slowly came to terms with the new dining room table. Samantha mewled in awe at what was once the dining room table. An altar was hidden beneath the cloth, rather than the table she cleaned off after dinner the night before. The altar was primarily made of solid oak with an ornate grapevine design around the base. It looked much like a casket would if the lid couldn't come off. Instead of a curved, solid lid, there was a bed of sorts inset into the top. It was just a feathered mattress, with a red velvet slip cover, but impressive nonetheless. At each corner, there was a heavy iron shackle, bound to the frame by only one link. Samantha's body trembled under the implications of the new altar, and her sex began to fill with heat. "Th... thi.. this. is," she stammered. "Yes, I had it brought in, today," John said with a proud smile. "Its design is based on your measurements, of course and the shackles were shipped in from a metalworker somewhere in Russia. Do you like it? Oh, of course you do," he replied confidently. "I can tell, just by looking at you." Samantha's body betrayed her. At first, John was a bit concerned about her reaction, but the sweet aroma of her waking sex eased his thoughts. He looked leisurely up and down her body, admiring her every curve and characteristic. What John loved the most about Samantha, was her response to a stimulus. Inwardly, he ached to see her react to his. The way her lips parted with every breath, the way her breasts heaved under her dress, the way her fingers twitched with excitement, and the way her eyes filled with longing for what would soon come all drove him wild. He couldn't blame her for staring at the altar. He stared too when it was first brought in. Samantha had to brace herself on the altar to keep from falling. To think, she would be bound to this, only to serve him. She struggled to fight her rising thirst, but it was something she had never been able to control. The mons began to throb and moisten as her heart rate rose higher and higher. Passion consumed her, as her ache for him became almost unbearable. For the first time, she was scared of what would happen. Why was he waiting? Why was he just watching her? Why doesn't he just take her and ease both their suffering? Why doesn't he give her the instructions he knows she's waiting for? John wanted her as much as she did and she knew it, but this game he was playing was just cruel. Worried, John walked behind Samantha and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against his body. "Are you okay, my love," he interrogated, "you don't look well." "I'm okay, Sir," Samantha whispered reassuringly, "I was just surprised." Carefully, John guided her onto the altar bed, and laid her onto her back. Without resistance, she let him lift her ankles to the foot of it. With a smile of confidence, he looked over her in her weakened state, perhaps enjoying it a bit too much. He caressed up and down her left calf and brought her delicate state back down. John knew she needed this sort of attention every now and again, and he was more than happy to give it to her. Her sigh of relief and her steadied breathing comforted him greatly as he continued to her other calf. Watching her eyes intently, John grazed his finger tips up her right thigh, the heat of her sex bathing his right hand as it reached her pelvis. Pretending not to notice her heightened state of arousal, he leaned down over her and began kissing the inside of her left thigh. The game continuing, John caressed more firmly down her left leg and shackled her ankle to the altar. Samantha's heart leaped from her chest as she felt the cold iron shackle around her ankle. She opened her eyes and watched him as he continued kissing her thighs, and let out occasional faint moans. Then, the other ankle. Hungry for more, she bent her knees slightly, parting her thighs even further for him. She could smell the scent leaking from between her legs and knew he must also, but he didn't stop or do anything more. He just kept kissing her thighs, forcing her to wait for satisfaction. With pleading eyes, she looked down into his, as he lovingly nuzzled her thigh and tickled her with his stubble. Samantha let a small giggle slip and quickly regained her composure as he moved to stand over her head. She whimpered as he pulled each wrist up and bound them tightly to the altar. Then it hit her. She felt like a sacrifice to a god. The idea of being sacrificed on this altar for the pleasure of one just made her need even more rabid. John climbed onto the altar and straddled her hips, hoisting her dress up beneath him as much as he could. He gazed sternly into Samantha's eyes as he undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. "You're so beautiful, my pet" he whispered. "Thank you, Sir," she murmured in return. She loved looking at him. His muscles weren't too big. His skin was soft and tender. His chest hair was thick in all the right spots. He was her man and she loved him. She would do anything for him. Seeing his bare chest, she wanted to kiss all her lips could find of him. She wanted to touch him everywhere so he could feel her love. Mostly, however, she just wanted to please him. Feeling slightly more daring, she let her gaze travel to his groin and then return to his eyes with a seductive look and a lick of her lips. She remembered last time she was bound to a table when he fucked her mouth, and she wanted to serve her master like that again. Right now, she was ready to do anything for just a chance at tasting him. John chuckled and growled lowly at her, shaking his head. "Not this time, my love," he teased, leaving her slightly disappointed. He reached down under her, grabbing the back of her dress, and pulled it down until her breasts were released from it. He grinned and licked his lips, then looked mischievously into his lover's eyes. Arching his back low, he moved so his lips hovered over her right nipple and blew softly on it. His tongue snaked out, flicking her nipple hard and sent shivers down her back. John glanced down from her eyes to her luscious breasts and quickly bit down on her right nipple, giving it a sudden tug. He moaned softly as she arched her breasts toward his face and did it again, this time sucking on it before releasing it. He basked in the echoes of her pain with each bite, teasing her left nipple in the same manner, making them hard and swollen. Satisfied, John sat up and returned his eyes to hers. She had bitten her lip from wincing and it was bleeding. Smiling lovingly, he leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips, tracing the cut with his tongue until it no longer bled. "Try not to hurt yourself, pet" he whispered before pulling away again. Breathing heavily, Samantha watched as John stood up and walked over to one of the candle sconces on the wall. He took down the tall pillar candle and lazily walked back, making sure to take his time. As much as he enjoyed a hot, quick fuck, he had been planning this for weeks, and he wasn't going to waste it on her hedonistic desires. Well, not yet. John grinned as he straddled her hips once more, admiring the way the candle light danced with the shadows of her breasts. Carefully, he tilted the candle downward, expertly rotating it in his fingers as he did so, and watched as the hot wax dripped in a long, linear stream just above Samantha's right nipple. A wide grin consumed his lips as she winced in pain and thrusts her breasts forward. Her suffering fueled his hunger even more, and he leaked hot wax onto her left breast, also. His lustful gaze relished in the pain she was undergoing as her teeth clenched and her nipples turned completely solid. In a swift, fluid motion, he leaned his head down, and blew softly over the hot wax. With a sly grin and a glance to her expression, he quickly bit down on her nipple once more, more violently this time, tugging on it as hard as he could with a growl. Samantha writhed wildly beneath him, eyes opened wide as her ankles and wrists pulled at the shackles. The groan of her passion echoed far through the house and just as far into John's soul. He sensed her need right away. Samantha closed her eyes and loosened her muscles, letting her limbs collapse in submission to her lover's will. His fingers flicked the hardened wax off her breasts as she tried to slow her breathing, but it was no use. Her passion and want for him only continued to enrage her senses even more. She wanted him but couldn't get to him. scooted down her thighs a bit and she knew immediately what was coming. Yes! His fingers expertly stroked the sensitive bud above her entrance and gave her the contact she so desperately wanted. She started to grind her pelvis up into his fingers, but felt that wasn't what he wanted when he stopped. Then, so suddenly, his fingers pushed deep into her and made her inner muscles writhe and squeeze around them. Yes! Samantha pushed forward like it was his shaft, trying to force him deeper into her. She could feel his fingers rotating inside her, stroking her inner walls when the tips finally reached that spot, but he didn't stroke it they way she wanted. Without warning her clitoris jerked and throbbed violently as she felt the hot sting of the wax coating it. Her scream bellowed loudly into the air. Samantha wanted to fight her lover. This was too much. Then he did it once more and she felt the wax sting the outer rim of her tender lips. "Ohh God!" she yelled once more. John looked on pleasingly at how good she was for him. Finally, she stopped moving almost completely, as if in a shallow dream. She no longer felt pain or pleasure. They were the same to her. He started to stroke his fingers in and out of her in long, slow thrusts, rotating his wrist with each penetration. John looked on lovingly at how she gave in. She didn't move to satisfy the fire that burned inside. She didn't plead or beg him to give her release. She just accepted that it would come when he was ready. It was time. His love continued to whimper as he pulled his fingers out and unfastened his dark slacks and slid them down his hips. He moved to rest over her, bracing himself on the solid oak above her shoulders and grinded his thick length along her. John couldn't deny that her submission gave him so much pleasure and his breath became ragged with the same lust and need that she felt. He leaned forward and gently kissed the side of her neck, whispering his love to her. Just barely, Samantha felt his teeth clench into her neck. She knew what was coming, but she couldn't move anymore. Her muscles had stopped working and her senses were too confused. Her moan signaled what she waited all evening for. Her lover had finally taken her and she couldn't help but gasp as his shaft stretched and pulsed inside her wanton sex. She just gave over and let him have her. She was his and she loved that label more than any pet name he gave her. His thrusts became deeper and harder, filling the void of her soul over and over again. Yes! Her nerves and muscles twitched as her bliss reached new heights. She was close and knew he was too. His growls echoed into her mind as if they were far off as he dug his teeth harder and harder into her neck. Yes! Her muscles stiffened and he stopped for a moment, driving hard once more into her and screamed simultaneously as their lust reached culmination. John listened to Samantha gasp harshly for air and struggled to find his own. Her muscles continued to milk him of his seed until he couldn't give anymore. Tired and dazed, he collapsed onto her, nuzzling his face into her shoulder, and basked in the afterglow of their passion. Now it was his turn to give her what she needed. Sleepily, he reached to unfasten the shackles from her wrists so that she may hold him. He knew she needed this. She needed this reassurance of love and John was more than happy to provide. It was this love that made them so compatible. "I love you, Master," she whispered. "I love you, pet," he replied with great satisfaction. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Samantha woke next to him to the smell of their passion. She was nude, and they were in bed. John must have carried her. She tickled his bare chest with her fingernails, whimpering gently. "I thought we were going out tonight," she joked. "I decided I didn't want to," he replied with a smug grin, handing her the wedding band she left on the table in the morning. She smiled, putting it back on. "I'm not complaining." "Happy anniversary, baby," he laughed. The Altar T/they had been sitting together in the throne room ... she placed herself strategically at His feet just off to the left in a tower position. Looking down at His girl He said, "want to take a walk?" She replied, "yes Master if it pleases You," and smiled as He reached down to help her to her feet. Leading her by her leash He hustled out of the throne room to the hallways slipping down dark passages He opened a door and pointed into the darkness. "Down there little one." Her eyes darted around nervously and she almost whispered. "down there?" The Master lifted a torch and lit it, the girl following as her eyes adjusted to the light in the darkness. He led her down a long stairway carved out of stone into total darkness, the girl following Him obediently. He turned back to look at her, "yes down there." He: took the torch and led her down the stairs quickly. She looked at Him with concern "why does Master wish to take girl down here?" Not answering her nervous question the air cooling as they go deeper and deeper, the girl squeezing His hand tight, slowed her pace with her heart pounding. He looked back and smiled at her, "frightened little one?" She nodded and choked, "just a little Master." He hurried her faster down the stairs a sound starting to come from the rocks around them as went go lower and lower into the mountain. "Master, maybe we should go back," she said. Again He did not respond, and finally coming to an open space, the stairs ending in a cave He held the torch high, light flashing off of jewels in the ceiling and walls like diamonds shining in the sun. The girl looked at Him, the light reflecting in her eyes of fire. He turned to His girl as she tried to look around and get a better feel for where T/they were and why. The Master put the torch in a stanchion and looked at her "disrobe girl." She dropped her white silks and stepped out of them, her nipples hard from the cool air. His eyes filled with the glory of her .. the lights off the gems in the ceiling reflecting from her body. She lowered her eyes gently and He grabbed her hand and quickly moved to the center of the cavern. Her face filled with curiosity. She suddenly noticed a stone altar placed in the midst of the room iron shackle rings at the top and bottom of the "bed" the whitest of marble reflecting like the sun. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh my," she replied! He lifted her to the altar and she growled softly, "Master what is this place?" He pulled her arms over her head, tenderly kissing her lips as He attached the shackles to her wrists. She moaned into His mouth squirming, the cold marble against her body causing a shiver and on her flesh goosebumps rose. "Master please," she moaned her pussy quaking. He slowly ran His hands down her body across her thigh, to her shins and continued to her ankle, He quickly chained first one then the other to the shackle rings, the girl watching His every move, bound. Her body spread out on an ancient altar deep in the bowels of the sacred mountain. Her passion rose in her belly, waterfalls of fire flowing through her soul. A drum begins to sound from the shadows of the cavern edge, then one from the other side another from beyond her head and from somewhere in the direction of her feet. Her eyes flashing she bit her lower lip as the monks moved silently and quickly from the shadows; only the most advanced and trusted of them surrounding the Master and His queen on the altar. "What's happening?" her voice trembled with fear barely audible to her Master. A chant suddenly burst from the throats of the monks, at first calming then rising in tempo to become sensual and erotic. She looked quickly to her Master, His eyes gone stone blue. His warrior body transforming her eyes locked on Him as the fur burst from His body, His head stretched and grew into the tiger He emulates. His body elongated and massive ripples rolled through the muscles as He leaped from the ground and straddled her on the altar. Her eyes wide trembling like a flower. His eyes fixed on hers, her body on fire. His head lowered to hers. His massive tongue searching her lips and slipping into her mouth. She struggled in her bonds, her body writhing, moaning. He backed up slowly. His tongue trailed across her breasts ,.. the rough tongue abrading her sensitive nipples .. the monks chanting louder and faster. The girl's chest heaving, "good goddddddds!" Her breath quickened as her pulse raced. His lips and teeth nursed from her nipple and left a small bite mark over her heart. She wailed, "mmmmm, pleeeeeease," lightning bolts shot from her nipples to her pussy. His haunches slid between her legs backing further down her He slathered His tongue over her belly it quaked with need and sensation, rippling under His ministrations. "Yesssss, omggg, I can't move!!!!!!" Then, His eyes firmly fixed on hers, He ran His long thick rough tongue over her cunt. The girl pulled at each bond harder as her passion built. His tongue, slashing through the lips, roughly caressing her clitoris. "Oh nooooo noooo don''t do that!!!!!!!!" His head and tongue moved back and forth, her hips rose and fell, her pussy soaked. He spread her lips with His tongue circling her fuckhole, the texture of the tongue like a rough terry towel. Her legs shook and she cried out "OHHHHHHH FUCKKKKK!" Thrashing and straining she came violently, as He stuffed the end of His tongue into her and drank of her juices. Her body spasmed and moved like bacon in a pan cooked on high heat! The monks in a frenzy now, the drums echoing off the walls, the girl crying out again "dear goddddds." The chanting grew louder and more ecstatic. He suddenly leapt forward, piercing her cunt with His long powerful tiger cock. She screamed at the top of her lungs, the sounds filling her head her eyes glazed with lust, cumming and shrieking. The Master pounded into her, the cock seemingly endless, rigid as bone, pounding deep into her soul, spreading her pussy to the Nth degree animalistic growls emanating from her lusty throat, "fuck meeeee," her face flushed as her pussy gushed, juices splattering, covering Him all over. Her body molded to His presence and she suddenly changed herself, the legs sprouting a soft striped fur her breasts smoothing into a powerful frame, her arms becoming long savage limbs ending in razor sharp claws, her hips rising up to Him in the fashion of a tiger bitch being taken by the Master. She murmured as she changed, "deeeeeeeeper into my soul, into the very core molding powerful flames of desire taken!" A huge "growwwwwwwwwl," exploded from Him. Barely understandable as her tiger nature took over, she cried out "take meeeee. own meeeeeeee." She was possessed by Him. Finally she was reduced to feral growls, lust filled raging fire igniting, exploding. The monks danced and sang, chanting aloud and falling to the ground prostrate as the Master and His girl danced the ancient dance. He fucked His girl, totally animal, beast to beast taking her like the bitch she was. She lost all control of her senses as His teeth locked on her throat, His powerful body thrust Him farther and farther into her. His head lifted ... He roared into the darkness and His cock exploded into her, spewing, filling, painting and soothing her needy cunt. She panting like a bitch in heat....felt Him pounding into the pussy that was made for only Him, deeper and deeper He pierced through her womanhood, owning it, going where no Man or Beast had ever been, her cries of pleasure bouncing off of the cavern walls as she roared and came violently, screaming for Master as He exploded into her ...GUSHING....pouring Himself into her. He growwwwwwwwwled quietly as He ground the final spasms from His loins into her. The girl speechless, moaned softly, her pussy spasming around His cock, her inner cunt molded to Him. The monks slowed and quieted and finally moved backwards silently into the darkness. The Master and His girl slowly returned to their human form ... He reached up and gently pushed her hair from her eyes. Looking down into her eyes, His still cobalt blue, hers full of light lost in Him. "Miiiiiiiiiine," he whispered. "Mmmmm," she melted under His gaze. "Yours Master, i love You mine." He smiled "still afraid girl?" She blushed bright red. "It was a good kind of fear," she smiled softly. "You are My queen, My girl, the slave of My heart, the keeper of My soul," He smiled. "And You are my King." He released her from the chains and lifted her to His arms. She held Him tight. He took her hand and helped her down from the altar. She lovingly looked at Him as if to worship Him, her eyes following His every move. He handed her silks back to her, a tiger emblazoned on the sash. The Altar of Desire Sara gazed up into the night sky, shifting slightly. The chains attached to the leather straps around her wrists clinked slightly, but weren't going anywhere. There was at least enough give in them so that it wasn't uncomfortable, and the black stone altar seemed to still be hot from the day's sun. She had volunteered for this, but somehow the idea of being an offering to Aphrodite was losing its charm. She wondered what had possessed her to do it. At last she felt a movement in the air, and turned her head to see a tall, slender woman standing there. Her skin was olive, one that had stroked the sun but not been burned. Her hair was dark and flowing, falling over her shoulders in a waterfall of black, and her the rest of her... wow. She wore no clothes to cover her, and Sara was not complaining. The woman smiled, and moved forward, a strip of purest silk in hand. The cloth was bound around Sara's head, blindfolding her. She felt a touch on her ankle. Fingertips resting there. Then, slowly, they began to move up her leg, gliding so smoothly across her bare skin. It felt... exploratory. Like someone tuning a new instrument. The fingers continued upwards, over her thighs and hips, up her side, moving lightly. They murmured up the underside of her arm, and then down the top, crossing her shoulder and stroking up her neck. They paused briefly on her head, two sets of fingers massaging her head for a few moments, relaxing her, making it impossible to be concerned about the strange touch. Soon the fingers moved down again, caressing her cheek as they passed, outlining her neck and shoulder, tracing around her outstretched arm, then whispering downwards, down her side and over her hip, descending all the way back down to her ankle again. There they stopped, and Sara somehow sensed that she had been accepted and claimed. She felt the backs of two delicate sets of nails gliding up the insides of her legs and she almost held her breath. But they slid off into the air just as they reached her inner thighs, the tone playful, teasing, of a person who enjoyed being in control. For a few moments all was still. She could hear no movement, and the blindfold kept her from seeing. The only sign that anyone remained was a subtle scent, one that seemed to speak of flowers and light, but under whose breath lay a hint of darker desires and promises to be fulfilled. Then a she felt a soft pair of lips being pressed against her own, bringing with them even more whispers of pleasures untold. Her eyes closed under the blindfold, the quiet heat of it slowing her thoughts to nothingness. She kissed back, her own lips moving with her captor's, but as she tried to increase the intensity the lips drew back, leaving the very tip of a tongue flicking over her parted lips as they did. The a kiss was placed on her neck, this one a little more definite, then another one in the nape of her neck. A warm trail moved across her, each touch of the lips softer and more passionate than even the best she had felt before, yet they were never rushed. She could feel herself surrendering to the enjoyment of it all, forgetting about her situation and giving in to the will of her midnight lady. The touches glided up her arm, until they came to her upturned wrist, held securely by the soft leather. A lingering touch caressed her arm just below the restraint, and then there was a sudden sharpness. Sara jolted, the bite whipping her out of her complacency, her nerves alight with the tiny nip of pain. But even as she started, she felt a hot tongue press against the mark, a balm on her hurt, letting it fizzle away and dissolve into a different kind of pleasure. But now she was fully awake again, and par of her now longed to feel that needle of pleasure again. More kisses followed, and every so often there would be a sudden nip, instantly calmed, just enough to make her fidget, biting her lip at each tiny release. As she felt them awakening her even further, Sara started to feel the need for more. Not just more bites and kisses, more of everything. It wasn't just the fire in her nerves that had been kindled. She felt cool breath on her face again, and she tilted her head up eagerly for another kiss. But even as their lips touched it ended, the fleeting glimpse of her tongue all that was left. Sara strained against the cuffs, trying to get more. She knew, could sense that if she was just a tiny bit closer she could have what she desired, but she was held fast. She lay back again, and as her head touched the dark marble, she felt a kiss just beneath her ear, a sudden bolt of electric intensity making her gasp. This bite was not hindered, and was allowed to spread across her senses, distracting her. As she focused on it, the pain fading into a sharp memory, she felt a warmth close over her breast, felt a tongue swirl around and over her arousal, made hard by the cool night air. Her back arched, leaning into the sensation, wanting more. Her senses ached for it. The tongue now caressing her all that she had ever desired, had she but known it. A hint of a bite, adding such flavour to the contact, made her lips open in pleasure, a convulsive moan spilling forth from her. She wanted more, to have the stranger, for them to claim her right that moment. Anything to have another few moments of those supple lips. The touch subsided, the initial intensity relaxing, becoming a flow of pleasure. The tongue swirled and toyed, exploring and toying, playful yet definite, one that had learned, long ago, the way to please. Sara was powerless before its touch, straining to press herself into it, unable to do so because of the ever-present chains. She moaned in frustration and want, dreaming that she might leap upon this tongue and have it claim her completely. Never before had a woman been able to arouse her in such as way, but even now her thoughts of men were fading. Maybe if their tongue... She felt swift fingertips slicing lower, the nerves of her stomach lighting up as they passed over. She knew what would come next, and parted her legs wider, her lust overcoming all reason, needing nothing but for this pleasure to endure forever. But the touch did not come. The fingers brushed past her most intimate area, the faint beads upon it not holding the power they did over others. Instead the fingers hinted, gliding down her thigh, frustratingly slowly, making every inch of skin aware. It was pure torture, knowing that a single move could finish her, could send her over the edge into glory and wonder. But no such move came. She felt the fire settling within her, the bright flames becoming intense embers, ones that could still ignite a raging inferno if they were but fed a single match. The lips left her breast, the night gliding in to touch her with cool hands. She could feel that the person was still close, but where... that she could not say. Above, below, beside... impossible to say. Light touches would find her, on her neck, on her hip, on her wrist. She felt disorientated, wanting to know what was happening. Was it over? She wanted so badly to remove the blindfold, so that she could at least regain control of her own damn sight. To have even that faculty robbed from her; it was almost too much to bear. The hot breath abruptly silenced every thought. It rolled between her legs, a cloud of breath that only a person could have exhaled. And only one so close could have given that sensation. Sara wanted to move closer, but still she was held, and so she lay there, not knowing if she would be blessed with release or not. A few more delicate beads formed, dripping to the slab, telling of her inner hunger, her ravenous desire to be devoured. She sensed rather than heard it. The silent noise of a single droplet being caught on an outstretched tongue. And that single, tiny non-sound was the most deeply erotic thing that she had ever known. Alone, that delicate bead had been chosen to be the courier of every need she had ever felt. And it had been lapped up by a being that knew infinite pleasure, one who could bless her with the pain of a thousand heavens, or the pleasure of a thousand hells. Infinite lust and suffering, all in that one absence of noise. And so when the pinprick tip of a tongue touched the centre of her being, Sara simply screamed. It was the release of a lifetime of pent up hopes, desires, needs, ambitions, disappointments, everything either fulfilled or denied. The rush of her first kiss combined with the low of her first failure, every crashing emotion released in a moment. She couldn't even move as the moment extended into eternity, blessing her wit its presence. Then, gradually, as she returned to herself, she could feel it again, pressing into her, letting her know how good life could feel. She pressed into it a little, and her bonds seemed almost to give a little, to allow her this time to bathe herself in life's hope and delight. She moved her hips, rubbing herself against the beautiful tongue, one that gave without asking. She heard a small sigh of pleasure, and knew that it was a goddess sighing, one that had found a new disciple. She moved more freely, her chins still reminding her who was the mistress, but allowing her to move with her will. The tongue too moved, flickering up and down, teasing and playing, slipping and lapping, finding every last drop of her new being. And, as the dawn sun crested the horizon, the new light bursting into the world, she came, her cry echoing across the land, raised to the heavens in exultation of her new goddess. When she awoke the day was already warm. Her wrist bore the soreness that only such a night could bring, and her stomach grumbled in search of her second hunger. Of her deity there was no sign, but then she had not expected there to be. Such beings didn't reveal themselves during the day, but only blessed their flock in the warm velvet of the night. Lying back, smiling, Sara waited to be released, waited to go forth to bless the world.