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Whispered Rites of Sacrifice Ch. 01

By: Nimue_Sage



Part one: The Floryynias Begins

Leaves stirred in a dervish of orange and brown, hissing softly over the marble tiles of the courtyard. A pair of cloaks billowed in the breeze, the ends of the rich jewel toned fabric draping and whipping over the steps as the figures confidently ascended. The larger of the two glanced over at his charge, his large watery grey eyes regarding her with uncertainty. "You aren't Actovan. No one will think less of you for not participating."

A lock of ravenesque hair floated out from under the hood upon the autumn breeze as the woman replied, though she did not turn to look at her companion. "The Actovan's have been gracious enough to give me political sanctum. The least I can do is participate in the most important celebration of the Florynias."

The man licked at his lips then nodded with a weary sigh. "Very well, My Lady. I am still sworn to protect you, so I shall watch over you...if at any time you want to leave--"

"Eulos, enough. I am not a child anymore." The olive skinned woman's face peeked from under her hood, large green eyes sparkling at him as she smiled. "I am well aware of what the Florynias Festival is...what tonight's celebration entails. We Castacean's are not so aloof as to believe that it is merely a wanton, hedonistic perpetuation of a barbaric tradition."

"You aren't, perhaps." The man's tone was salty as he lifted his grey eyes to the Actovan Temple again. A large marble archway marked their entrance, deeply engraved with the ancient language of Actova. The words translated easily for him, well educated in his life-long enemies' ways.

'Florynia holds all to her bosom to suckle freely of eternal bliss.'

Everything about the Actovans seemed to revolve around sexuality. They dressed scandalously. They copulated openly and freely. Although they had marital arrangements, many were mostly legal and financial in nature as it was quite common for either spouse to still engage in rampant fornication. Eulos found it disgusting. Actovans were no better than animals and it repulsed him that his charge had sought out the protection of the Actovan people when her father, King Orentoah Whitespear had been assassinated by the mutual enemy of Actova and Castacea. Isana had always been headstrong, however, and far too accepting of others. Even now as an adult, when she should know far better, the girl would waste her time in the presence of the lesser castes, behave as if with the deliberate intention of shocking her elders. Eulos was not her mentor, however, and was in no position to scold her or refuse her wishes. He was merely a legionnaire charged with her safety.

Once at the doors to the temple, Eulos stopped the young woman and turned her to face him. "Isana, we can still leave. What will your people think when you return to them if the Actovans should lack discretion?"

Isana smiled and pat Eulos' face, rough with stubble and the scars of a soldier's life. His black hair was peppering with hints of grey to match his eyes though he was younger than he looked at only thirty-six. "My people will respect the sacrifices I make in the name of peace. If Castacea is to hold off the invading Sibilines, then we will need the Actovan army at our back. By showing that we have respect for their culture and beliefs, that we Castaceans do not think ourselves their better then we are far more likely to secure Actovan support." 

"Already a Queen...you are your father's daughter," Eulos sighed.

Gesturing to the door open wide and inviting as the heavy scent of spices and incense wafted out to them, Isana fixed her emerald eyes on Eulos. "The Actovan King and Queen are waiting, as is their son. Arao is five years my elder and knowing his parents King Tellam and Queen Raine they will attempt to negotiate a marriage into their offer of support."

"You can't accept an Actovan husband," Eulos was reviled by the thought.

Isana lifted her brows at him and stated firmly, "I'll do what is necessary to secure the safety of my people. Arao...if I recall has little or no political aspirations. His elder sister is already named as Heiress to Actova and she has already born two heirs. YOU will keep your mouth shut and not do anything to jeopardize whatever political treaties I must make. Understood?"

"Aye, my lady," the man grimaced and looked away. Marry an Actovan. Her father was likely turning in his grave. Perhaps with luck no such proposition would be laid upon the table.

Smoothing her cloak and silky black locks once inside, Isana looked to see that Eulos was with her then proceeded down the lengthy Hall of Titans to the main Temple hall where they would be received. As they drew nearer there were little pockets of people gathered in alcoves whispering, in shadows kissing, and Actovan guard positioned amidst the frighteningly realistic life size statues of the Titan Gods of Actova. As they reached the large doors, brutishly muscled men drew on silk wrapped ropes thicker than Isana's wrists which caused the massive wooden doors to slide open. The sight within was breathtaking.

At the fore of the Temple reclined a mountainous statue of Florynia back arched in ecstasy. Firelight flickered over the gold-inlay designs that twisted over the Goddess' body like vines, curling around the erect marble nipples and seeming to sprout from the exquisitely forged Tree of Life that the Goddess straddled. The branches reaching out over her hips and between Florynia's upraised knees. The Temple itself had a ceiling as high as the Cathedrals of Castacea, a round dome at its apex with an open circle of sky. Directly below was a small circular garden the center of which was the very Tree of Life depicted in the Temple Homage. Unlike the trees outside the temple this one was still vibrantly green, still bore plump crimson fruits and showed no sign of the season.

Isana's eyes traveled around the room. Chaises and cushioned alcoves broke up the space, low lying walls radiating from the center garden in wavy lines that led to small rooms positioned around the outer walls of the temple. One room was built into the base of the altar upon which Florynia reclined. A vast room cordoned off by sheer curtains of burgundy and gold, the colors of Florynia and Actova. It was within this room that Isana was certain she would find King Tellam and Queen Raine.

As she and Eulos stepped into the great hall, a small flock of nubile girls surrounded them, their state of undress causing the older legionnaire to blush. They offered up baskets filed with fruits and candies. The eldest of the girls leaning forward to whisper, "you must accept a fruit of the Tree and eat a Pearl of Florynia's Tears."

"Do as they say," Isana instructed Eulos as she accepted one of the swollen fruits and a pearl-drop candy. The Actovans believed that their Goddess wept for the dying and lonely. The 'candies' however, were in fact the seeds dropped by the Tree of Life and they had the strange quality of rendering one voiceless for a time. Castaceans, being science minded and intellectual, knew that the seeds merely contained a mildly paralytic toxin that weakened the vocal cords thereby making the eater unable to do anything more than whisper. However, because of this aspect of the Actovan faith, the activities of the Florynian Festival were conducted in silence.

The seed had a citrus flavor with a hint of almond and Isana smiled at the pleasant taste and the slight tingle she felt in her throat. The girls watched them ingest the seeds with delight before swarming around them to greet the next arriving guests. Leaning closer to Eulos, Isana pointed toward the altar. "The royal celebration party is there," she whispered, her voice already having left her. "Come."

As they drifted through the Temple to the far side, Isana and Eulos let their eyes wander. It seemed that while many people were embracing, most were doing little more than talking and occasionally kissing. Eulos leaned toward her and hissed, "I'm amazed they aren't rutting like dogs in heat."

"Behave," Isana jabbed a finger toward his face.

"Lady Isana Whitespear...we are so honored that you chose to join us." A man adorned in a draping of burgundy fabric bowed before her, his shaved head tattooed with the vine-like markings of the Goddess. Although he spoke low, his voice was clear and obviously unaffected by the seeds. The priest straightened and smiled. He was an old man, but his eyes were bright and lucid with the clarity of an astute scholar. "I imagine it is Queen Isana now, however?" His question was polite.

"Lady Isana, until my people accept my leadership," she smiled magnanimously. She gestured to Eulos, "this is my personal guard, Eulos Estimus." Both men inclined their heads with respect.

"King Tellam has been awaiting your arrival before beginning the festivities. He wished you to be present for the Selection." The priest folded his hands and politely added, "Although I do not think he expects you to participate--"

"Of course I will. I am here as a friend of Actova and I would not dishonor your Goddess by neglecting her most honored celebration." Isana smiled widely and ignored Eulos' stern grip on her arm.

"Excellent," the priest beamed a smile. "I shall inform him at once. Please, this way..."

Isana jerked her arm out of Eulos' grip as the legionnaire growled, "do you have any idea what you just agreed to?"

"Not really, but does it matter?— you know my purpose here." Isana lifted her chin slightly and strode boldly along behind the priest as he slipped between the sheer drapes and guided them to a dais upon which the King and Queen were seated in their thrones.

The outer edges of the room were lined with wide cushioned seats and hundreds of pillows spilling onto the floor where many people were seated and talking over goblets of wine and trays of rich finger foods. Isana gracefully maneuvered around them and came to a graceful curtsey before the Royals. "Majesties," she spoke as loudly as her silenced voice would allow. She watched as the priest whispered in the King's ear causing the man, an exceptionally fit man in his fifties, to lift his brows with pleasant surprise. He conveyed his approval to the Queen who also smiled with delight then waved a hand toward a wisp of a boy carrying a water urn.

The priest returned to Isana's side with a tray covered in tiles. Each small tile bore a marking, the same at both ends with a score in the center. Picking a tile, Isana lifted it and snapped it in half, giving one half to the priest who nodded in gratitude then dropped it into the water urn held by the nearly nude boy.

The King gestured at a seat of privilege to the right of the dais where Isana moved and lowered herself to the cushions. Tellam stood and rapped his staff on the marble floor. What little whispering there had been hushed as all eyes turned toward him. Unhindered yet by the Tree's seeds, his voice was a rich deep tenor as he spoke, a sultry sound that Isana blushed to imagine hearing in the dark.

"Every year upon the solstice of Our Lady, Florynia we pay homage to her beauty, to her power and to her blessings of Life. It was her blood that spilled out on this very spot as she sacrificed herself at the hands of the Mangor to spare the lives of her children, we, the Actova. It is by her teachings that we live and in her honor that we celebrate that which she sacrificed for our freedoms. As she gave birth to the Titans, and they, in turn, honored her in creating us...so we shall revel in this blessing of life and open ourselves to her whim that the next generation can be bestowed upon us." The man smiled widely as a roar of applause echoed throughout the great chamber.

Isana looked from him to Eulos who begrudgingly clapped, then she looked out over the faces of the people. She knew very little of the Actovan Lore and decided that she must know more about this woman/goddess Florynia who had sacrificed herself at the hands of the Mangor, a notoriously brutal, cannibalistic society that had once ruled much of the Eastern lands. 

Her eyes returned to the King as he raised an ornate bowl, the bottom of which was carved out with richly detailed designs. The young boy approached carrying the water urn and with him an equally young, nubile girl carrying another urn, although hers seemed empty. The King held the sieve out before him as the boy raised the water urn. "Let the Goddess chose her vessel," he announced as the boy began to pour the water through the bowl.

Isana watched as the water sloshed through the sieve into the girl's urn below, the small wooden tiles clunking and tapping as they were filtered through the bowl. The Castacean princess stared with interest and anticipation to see whose tile would be selected, even as she wondered what happened if there were more than one or none. The last of the water dribbled through and the children bowed their heads in wait. The King reached into the bowl and raised aloft a single tile.

"The Goddess is most specific this year. Priest," he called the man forward and showed him the tile. The priest replied with a name and the King's eyes moved to Isana. Eulos' eyes also shifted to Isana as did everyone else's.

"What have you done...?" Eulos hissed with worry. "What if these barbaric people are going to sacrifice you now?!"

His whispering reached no one but Isana, but the young woman laughed and looked at him. "They celebrate LIFE, Eulos...not death. I can assure you, I am not to be sacrificed." Standing she strode to the King and extended her palm to show him her half of the tile.

"By great providence," Tellam announced to his people, "Florynia has selected only one...and only a woman. No men have been chosen. Florynia has called upon the Princess Isana Whitespear of Castacea to be her vessel. Your mate, he is willing?"

"You know well that Eulos is not my mate, he is my bodyguard," Isana replied wryly. 

The King nodded and whispered to her, "formality My Lady, I must ask." Raising his voice again he gestured to the Priest, "then it is to fall to Auction."

An excited whisper rose up throughout the Temple. Isana arched a brow and looked to Tellam for explanation as the people around them and throughout the hall began to bustle about. Resting a hand on her shoulder he guided her aside and spoke softly. "The worshipers pay homage to the goddess, an anonymous tithe given freely which the priest shall tally, the idea being that the man most blessed by the goddess in the past year and most willing to show gratitude shall be the one most deserving of the privilege."

Isana was an astute enough young woman, quite highly educated even for a mere twenty years. She easily deduced, "and this man earns the honor of laying with me—the chosen vessel."

"Yes," Tellam smiled warmly. "Unless you grant the Goddess the Rite of Sacrifice."

"Which is..?"

"The greatest honor you could offer to the Temple— and one that only royalty may give." The King eyed her in silence a moment. It was a test, Isana knew, to see just how willing she was to earn his favor in exchange for his kingdom's help.

"I shall do that then," Isana replied with conviction, still certain that it would not involve her death.

Tellam beamed a toothy smile, his dark eyes glittering like onyx. "I shall inform the priest." He left without explaining to her further. Turning around she watched as the room was prepared for the ceremony. The center of the room was cleared save for an ornate chaise upholstered in deep burgundy fabric and in a loop on the floor one of the Temple acolytes had secured an ornate gold cuff attached to a long gold-toned chain.

"Ah, the Rite of Sacrifice," a female voice whispered at her shoulder. Isana turned to see the Queen observing her with approval. "You do us a great honor, Isana of Castacea. I thought your kind rejected our ways as primitive and hedonistic?"

"Many do...but many also believe in executing criminals, is that not primitive?" Isana knew that the Actovan's found great contention with the Castacean judicial methods as they had long ago stopped practicing such punishments. As she had hoped, the Queen smiled approvingly. "Your husband," Isana said casually, "did not finish explaining the ceremony to me. Since I am a stranger to your ways..."

Raine reached out and raked her fingers through Isana's silky black hair, her own an ashy blonde. "You mustn't be afraid. I know in your culture Sacrifice generally indicates suffering or pain. This is quite the opposite I assure you. You need only have trust in the Goddess and she shall ensure that your offering to her is not misspent. As those who come to auction place their tithe with the priest, he shall have them draw a stick from that cup...you see." She gestured toward where the priest stood over a desk, a cup of flat-sided sticks beside his pen. "Upon that stick is a marking, a rune, which will tell him of the Goddess' wishes. Each man shall draw one stick. Then with the Goddess' guidance he shall compile...a dance card, if you will...a list of proprietary offerings. Only a handful of men are usually selected."

Isana was a little nervous now but did her best to school her expressions toward neutrality. "And I am to lay with each of them...and this is the Rite of Sacrifice?"

Touching the side of Isana's face lightly, then lifting her chin with one finger, Raine smiled lovingly as Isana imagined that her mother may have, had she not died in child birth. "This is a great honor, especially if you are as yet...untouched."

A deep blush rose in Isana's cheeks as she whispered in reply, "no...I have been with someone. Sex is not unknown to me."

"Still, the Goddess chose well and you shall do her a great honor." Raine bent forward and to Isana's surprise kissed her on the mouth. Delicate and lingering, the touch was far more intimate than that of mother to daughter. As the woman straightened her warm brown eyes shifted to look at someone across the room, but when Isana turned she saw no one that appeared to be of interest.

Suddenly the priest lifted his paper, passing it to the King who nodded. "We shall begin," his voice boomed throughout the room.

Raine guided Isana to the center of the room to stand beside the chaise. Her long slender fingers worked the clasp of the princess' cloak letting it fall in a slump to the ground. Beneath the cloak, Isana wore the traditional Actovan gown she had been given. The airy sheer fabric did little to hide the swirl of black curls at the cusp of her thighs, or the deep berry pink nipples which stood erect with nervous excitement. She hadn't thought she would be doing this right here in front of everyone, and though the idea of giving herself into the hands of a stranger had been exhilarating to a young woman who so often loved to test the boundaries of propriety, she was now to be taken by many strangers before the eyes of many, many more.

Her green eyes darted over to Eulos as the Queen's fingers deftly unfurled the draped gown as if Isana were a gift to be unwrapped. The legionnaire was standing, fists clenched and ready to charge forward. Isana shook her head ever so slightly and he lowered his eyes, jaw taut with anger. Suddenly Isana's view was obscured as a delicately made leather mask was placed over her eyes. The mask had no holes through which to see and with a gasp Isana brought her fingers up to touch the embossed surface of it as Raine secured it beneath her ebony hair.

"Trust and faith, child," Raine insisted. "To blind yourself disables judgment, giving such over to only Florynia."

Mask on, the next thing she felt was the cuff clicking shut about her ankle. She began to tremble then felt Raine's breath on her ear. "Do not think of it as a shackle. It is a symbolic show of your commitment just as the mask symbolizes your willingness and your trust in the Goddess. Do you understand?"


Whispered Rites of Sacrifice Ch. 01



"Yes."

"Good. Sit..." Raine guided her to sit upon the elegant chaise, the back of it reclining in such a way that Isana's small fluted breasts pointed upward and her pose was not unlike that of the reclining Florynia. There was a shuffling of fabric in the darkness, presumably her garments being gathered and taken away, then a drum beat started followed by other exotic Actovan instruments, strings and woodwinds.

Isana's exposed skin prickled as she lay on display before all of the court of Actova. Distant whispers of the seed-eating worshipers came to her ears like an extension of the autumn breezes outside. Her flesh tensed as she felt the sudden brush of fingers along the inside of her ankle. The light fingertips dragged along the inside of her leg to her inner thigh then she heard a faint, husky whisper, "the Goddess has shown me favor...and I thank her."

The traditional mantra seemed practiced yet still uttered from a nervous throat. The man's fingertips came up to swirl in her pubic hair, the dark curls hugging about his digits. His lips lowered to hers with an exploratory kiss, a gentle probing tongue seeking hers out. As she yielded to the tender kiss, hearing his breath deepen with arousal, Isana part her legs to allow his fingers access to her heated folds. First only one finger ventured to slip between finding her wetness and drawing it out to coat her clitoris. Then as her hips shifted, the man's second finger joined, both testing her as yet 'unsacrificed' quim. Isana gasped and arched as the man's lips moved to her breast and his fingers slowly delved inside her. The heat of her groin was immense and what awareness she had of those watching melted away into it.

The man's voice intoned, no more than a breath beside her ear, "ask the Goddess to bless my seed, Castacean." Heavier with a tone of condescension, Isana realized that this man, although nervous, had found pleasure in the idea of publicly defiling an 'arrogant Castacean.' In spite of her willingness and sacrifice, she was still an head figure for her people in general, a people not overly well regarded among the Actovans.

Isana could feel the chaise shift as the man's weight was added to it. Still, though, his fingers pushed in and pulled out of her achingly slow, encouraging her hips to push against his hand wanting more, a deeper touch, a firmer rhythm. She felt his fingers withdraw, but felt the rigid girth of his manhood as he slid it along her slit, taunting her with it. Lips parted with building arousal, Isana gasped as he suckled at her breasts again. "Goddess bless your seed..." she whimpered. When he gave no escalation of pleasure, she whispered it again, "Goddess bless your seed..."

Though no more than a huff, Isana heard the man try to grunt with effort and pleasure as he directed himself into her with one hand, pressing her shoulder back to the chaise with his other. Once inside, pushing in as deep as he could, until she simply could not take any more of him, the man slipped one hand beneath her lifting her to him as he thrust into her firmly.

Isana's head fell back as the pain of his size mingled with the growing pleasure as her body accepted and stretched to accommodate him. Though she made no efforts to be silent, her cries which would normally have echoed throughout the hall were little more than soft puffs of air as he started to increase his speed, pumping with hunger and want. "Goddess..." Isana heard him grunt, unsure if he was praying to Florynia or uttering his own cries of ecstasy.

His sweat mingled with her wetness, their hips slipping over one another with fluid grace. As he lifted her hips off the chaise, she could feel the heavy sack of his scrotum bouncing against her. Alone in the black, Isana had only his musky scent, his breathless grunts and the powerful thrusts of his hips from which to build an image of her partner. It seemed a trivial matter after his hand pinched at her tender pink nipples and his cock swelled with lust until she felt filled. Although shut into a world of darkness, Isana's vision filled with vibrant light and she felt her muscles spasm pulling him deeper inside, not letting him pull out, and he obliged driving harder and even further into her than she thought her small hips could bear to contain.

The man's body quivered and jerked. His hands both gripped her hips pulling her onto him roughly as he made loud snufflings that Isana knew to be grunts. She felt his hot seed erupt within her and she felt the muscles of her vagina contract around him urging more to spill. After a moment, she felt the brush of a hairy chest as he folded over her and kissed her. "Goddess bless your womb Castacean," he whispered at her. This he followed with a snide, "give purchase to my Actovan seed."

As he drew out of her Isana gasped at the sudden vacancy. There was a cavernous emptiness that chilled and left her feeling violated. She could still feel his sweat on her and her own juices cooled her flesh as the soft stirring of air around her hit her naked body. It had happened so quickly, so intensely, Isana had been unprepared for such an experience. She lay breathing heavily, alone in her dark world until a swarm of tiny, soft hands began to flurry over her with warm cloths smelling sensuously of Rose oil and Jasmine. Sensuous by design, or perhaps her body had yet to ground itself from it's heavenly high, their touch only seemed to further stimulate her heightened arousal.

Hands were held aloft, she was meticulously bathed. She imagined a flock of cherub angels fawning over her until she felt the same hands caress over her breasts and between her thighs, the warm rags washing away the evidence of her recent activities. A glass of sweet, heady wine was lifted to her lips followed by a bit of soft cheese then the juicy meat of a pomegranate fruit. Another seed was slipped between her lips and the familiar tingle warmed her throat.

As the small youthful hands left her, and Isana lacked stimuli, the whispering of worshipers surrounding her became clear again. All too faint to make out, they served only to remind the young woman that everything she had just done was being watched. She could imagine Eulos' mortified expression, his rage and discontent. 

Footsteps shuffled near, one set with sandals and two with bared feet. Isana remembered the priest wearing sandals and most everyone else wore nothing on their feet. A hand fell gently on her head and the priests voice murmured softly, "Goddess grant your blessing upon this union of Sacrifice. Through your vessel restore to your children their fertility that they may better serve their wives. Goddess through your vessel bless their seed and reward the twins for their devotion to you."

"T-twins...?" Isana shifted and whispered as the hand fell away from her head and the sandal clad feet shuffled away.

Hands gently drew her up to sit, slender male bodies flanking her on either side. One hand wrapped about her shoulders to cup one breast, his fingers playing lightly with her little nub of a nipple, coaxing it to stand tall. "I am Strom." Another hand snaked up her belly to caress her other breast, a tongue teasing at it then a nip of lips. "...and this my brother, Lybon."

Isana gasped, her head leaning back onto Strom's shoulder. "Who is first...?" she asked breathily.

"First...?" Strom mused against her neck.

"We share everything..." Lybon breathed against her breast.



Whispered Rites of Sacrifice Ch. 02



Part two: A Night's Reprieve

At the faintest melodic note in her rapturous gasping, a scurry of feet surrounded Isana and the twins. She felt the meat of fruit pressed to her lips again, quickly followed by another pearl-drop candy. For the first time she noticed the sudden warmth that flared within her as the sugar-like seed dissolved on her tongue. The state of her arousal blossomed quite rapidly and Isana realized that the seeds were strong aphrodisiacs. All this while she had been partaking from nature's apothecary and the result was more than likely a chemically enhanced willingness to participate in the Florynias.

Rather than feel betrayed or violated at this notion, Isana hoped that Eulos too had been continually taking the seeds, that his own pleasure was building and that perhaps he had found release in an Actovan woman's arms. Or an Actovan man's. This latter idea amused Isana and she giggled silently. To imagine the broad, muscular chest of Eulos covered in sweat as he wrestled with another man, their grunts more like baritone harmony than aggression. Yes, this Isana wished very much to see.

Flights of fancy scattered away like a flock of birds bursting from a tree top as Strom and Lybon's attentions returned to her. Still trapped in a black void, within a world of her own making, she visualized the twins as her fantasies longed them to look. Both had the creamy skin of the Actovans, their long, sleek hair tinted blue and green as was the fashion among many young Actovan nobles. She had indeed felt the lengths of their hair brush over her bare skin like feathers titillating her flesh.

Laid back now against Strom's broad, finely muscled chest, one arm encircling her waist to brace her, Isana was plunged again into ecstasy. The whispers of their audience had become more and more noticeable to her, but rather than shying from this voyeurism, the queen to be began to delight in imagining the hundreds of eyes fixated upon her and her two lovers. She envisioned them staring with lustful eyes and wagging tongues. In the shadows she imagined lovers pleasuring one another while watching the twins pleasure her. Isana imagined men and women pleasuring themselves as Lybon braced one knee on the chaise and lovingly lifted her leg to hook it over his hip. She imagined their engaged audience gasping with rapture as he slid closer and entered her.

Lybon's movements were fluid with grace and painstakingly slow. Were she able to see him, Isana would have seen the taut rippling of his muscles as he masterfully controlled his every movement. Resting back against the lounging Strom, Isana was held secure, but Strom was not leaving all the fun to his brother. As Lybon pushed into her with torturous delicacy, Strom was suckling on Isana's neck, on her ear lobe and his free hand was teasing and strumming upon her right breast. The left breast was raised and taken into Lybon's mouth as his hips began to undulate against hers. The sinewy length of him seemed impossibly long as he glided the shaft into her until his own thatchy curls entangled with hers. The extraction was no less meticulous. It was not until he began to quicken his thrust while keeping his retraction diminished that Isana's arms raised to lock about Strom's neck, bracing herself against the rising tide of euphoria.

Like the anticipatory beat of a drum, Lybon's rolling hips hooked his spear upward impaling her in a lover's death. In the same soothing then dominating dance of the ocean, the wave of his passion drew away with a lingering caress only to crash into her again with increasing force. Behind her, pressing against the small of her back, Isana could feel his brother's iron-hard tumescence beating out it's own faint rhythm as it pulsed against her. A quickening of energy spasmed within her and Isana felt Lybon drive in, halting his careful assault to burrow deeply. Unable to fathom he could go deeper, Isana gasped as the firm thrust melted into pliant massage, his reach so deep within as to touch her in a place never yet found. At last he filled her, the young man's virile form shuddering in release before bowing over her and claiming her mouth in a kiss to lessen the trauma of his withdraw.

Nary a breath passed between she and Lybon before she felt Strom's bulging arm lift her upward. The elder of the twins did not join with her as tenderly or reverently as his younger brother. Although by no means was his entry a violation or an assault, it was firm, demanding and inarguable. One arm wrapped about her hugged her waist and gripped her hip, the other beneath her arm across her breast to grip her shoulder. Locked into his embrace as such she was immobile and could do little more than hold tightly about his neck as Strom's hips rose and fell with burly strength. 

Save for Lybon's hand on her thigh, she had thought him gone. Then he too began to assault her with more dominance and hunger. Her breasts were devoured like sugar cakes, Lybon's tongue and teeth working desperately to consume them, to dissolve both plump little bon-bons. Electricity suddenly shot through her as his free hand slipped down to fondle her delicate bud. Neither brother gave pause or reprieve until finally her back arched, her entire body quaking as her vocal chords strained to scream aloud. Strom held her firm as he spilled into her, filling her belly with hot lava until his own convulsions calmed and her glorious waves of splendor wafted away on a sigh.

The three lay upon the chaise, Lybon resting his cheek upon Isana's breast to hear the thundering gallop of her heart. Their breathing matched in deep exhilarated gasps, catching when Isana's body shivered in a lingering wave of ecstasy. This moment of bonded bliss was all too brief as the whispers of the on-lookers returned as did the scurry of small feet. The solid slap of sandals approached as Strom and Lybon extracted themselves from Isana's embrace.

"Goddess bless your seed," she whispered as each bent to kiss her.

"She would bless us most if it took purchase in you, my lady," Lybon whispered.

In a breath, both men were gone and Isana felt the sensuous stroking of fluttering hands as she was bathed yet again. Draped upon the chaise, the very image of female perfection as painted by the Castacean Masters, Isana prayed that the Goddess Florynia had been appeased, as she doubted she could manage any more. Although he first 'sacrifice' had been rough and impersonal, the twins had carried her idea of sexuality to an higher echelon. 

"Fair thee well, Lady Isana?" the old monk's voice inquired.

"Yes...very well," she whispered in reply.

Although she could not see him, Isana felt certain he was nodding. "Good," he warbled happily. "As per tradition, the chaise will now be carried into the temple grotto. It is a veiled and guarded room."

"I can remove the blindfold and chain then--" Isana moved to sit up. A hand caught hers.

"No," Raine's voice replied sternly. "You will be told when it is appropriate to do so."

Slightly concerned by this, Isana could make no protest. To do so now would undermine all she had already done to make a show of her willingness for compromise. Apprehensive as she was, she nodded then held the sides of the chaise as it was suddenly lifted from the floor and carried. The distance did not seem too terribly long but it occurred to her when absolute silence suddenly fell around her that Eulos was no longer present to protect her, to watch over her. Now fear crept into her heart and she reflexively reached for the blindfold. Again a hand stilled her own.

"Not yet..." a man's voice whispered. It was firm, but neither cruel nor bearing insult. Still she was stunned at his presence, having been certain she was alone.

Isana listened for a long time but heard nothing. He barely seemed to be breathing. There was no movement, no other whispers. After a moment, her fear bubbling out of her, Isana inquired, "are you a special choice? The most revered of those who tithed...? I do not understand what is to happen now."

The man gave no answer. Isana swore she could feel the heat and energy of his hands hovering over her flesh, but never once did she feel his touch. Rich scents of spices and the wooded, earthy fragrance of cypress pines danced into her nostrils with every breath. Masculinity lay within the undertones, neither dominating nor supplicant. The proximity of him built a sensual tension until she felt that her every breath was of his exhaled air, that the space around her was inhabited by him and their energies mingled to fill it. 

Hot crimson bloomed across her cheeks as she realized that the man was affecting her so strongly with little more than his scent and nearness, that even ignorant to his appearance she was deeply aroused. Fire was building in her loins even as she could tell that moisture was collecting there. 

Suddenly a faint touch, his fingertips dragging with a butterfly's grace just over her lips. And then it was gone. He was gone.

Isana was assailed by a flurry of servants then. Her body was being massaged from all sides by small, conscious hands. Then to her surprise, her knees were parted and a cushion was slipped beneath her hips. The ooze of warm oil dribbled onto her most private flesh finding its way in rivulets between her labia, along the tendons of her inner thigh, then as her pelvic bone was directed to tilt upward, she felt the oil glide down toward her anus. With a gasp she froze up, knowing it was all women around her now, she wasn't sure what to think, then a voice assured her, "you'll want to remain still for this, my lady. I promise I am skilled and it shall not hurt."

The first swipe of the straight razor halted Isana's breath and she fought not to tremble as she felt it curving over her vulva as if shaping it from clay, or carving it from rendered animal fat to adorn a King's feast table. Although this last comparison, she amused herself, was not far from true. When the razor had graced parts of her skin never touched by any other human's hands, not since she ceased to wear sanitary rags as a babe, cool water was poured over her flesh and trickled musically into a bowl someone had positioned just beneath her buttocks.

One set of hands methodically pat her skin dry as others began drawing off her blindfold and releasing her shackle. Fingers grasped at her wrists and hips, the young nymphs drawing her to her feet, draping her in fabric then guiding her down a hall into a broad, circular room. A pile of furs was amassed on the floor along with pillows as a luxurious bed. Another chaise was positioned at a far corner beside which was a deep set oval bath. Isana could see steam rising from its surface and smell the extravagant oils steeping in it. 

Tables with overflowing bowls of exotic fruits and baskets of bread and cheese, bottles of wine and decanters of sweet nectars dotted every corner of the room. She would certainly not starve. Upon a pedestal beside a relief carving of the Goddess Florynia was an offering bowl of seeds. In the carving, the ultimate sacrifice of the goddess Florynia was portrayed in a triptych. In the first she hurried her people to the southern cliffs to seek refuge with their neighboring nations. In the second, she stood beneath the tree of life, sword braced at her side. The final image disturbed Isana. Florynia's body was positioned as she had seen represented in the main temple hall. Her back was arched, knees bent and parted, and her head falling back in a perpetual gasp of ecstasy. Above her, however, was a central figure. A demon faced Mangorian, his blade raised to strike her but he was positioned as a lover and grotesque as his face was, the barbarian's tongue lolled like a rutting dog's. Behind him were the rapt faces of a hundred more men, their bodies shamelessly unclothed and bearing rather detailed upraised...swords. Isana covered her mouth as she looked at the pornographic display of what she had come to think of as a more glorified death.

"My lady," the eldest girl nodded as she ushered the others out. "This will be your room for the duration of the festival." Nearing to see Isana's shock at the shrine, the girl explained. "The Gods showed mercy on Florynia as she was suffered such savagery and made the fruits and seeds of the tree above her lessen the pain and agony of her violations. Until that day, they had been naught but fruit and seeds." Regarding the image herself, the young woman inhaled deeply then whispered with reverence, "to have sacrificed so much to save her people...to be devoured, then bled to be eaten. She truly deserved to be risen unto the pantheon of Gods and made keeper of the Actovan people."

Isana turned from the shrine and studied the girl as she spoke. Her devotion and piety was inspiring. "It is truly a glorious tale. Her sacrifice is met by no other I know."

"Oh, I could not have done as you today, My Lady. No one has so bravely, not since Queen Raine...she was only a peasant girl then, though, you see." The young woman smiled then gestured to the seeds in the bowl. "It is required that the seeds are consumed continuously throughout the festival. So please eat them and inform us if you should need more."

Without much ceremony, the girl turned and strode out closing the doors behind her. Isana had not yet inquired after Eulos. Although she still hoped that he had found comfort with someone and at least tried to be polite and participate in the festival, she knew it was unlikely.

Since alone she was, and for an unknown delineation of time, Isana shed the drapery of sheer fabric and stepped into the bath with a mollified sigh. The entrancing perfume of the oiled water seemed to strip her mind of it's weariness just as the hot mineral waters assuaged her aching muscles. Time slipped away from her with the steam and only when the sudden slam of the doors jolted her upright did she even consider getting out. At first she half hid in the waters themselves, until she saw Eulos' enraged face as he storm out from behind a column.

"Eulos!" she scolded as loudly and sternly as a whisper would allow. "You terrified me half to death! Close the door!"

Although his teeth were bared, he obeyed. Closing, and locking, the doors. When he turned back to her, she had risen from the bath water and draped the thin veil coverlet back on, though it covered little against her wet body. The already sheer white fabric formed to her flesh highlighting her sculpted curves, framing her taut pink nipples and showing quite clearly her now naked mons veneris.

Thinking he would pay no mind given all he had likely seen already, Isana ignored these facts as she addressed him. "What is the meaning of your behavior?"

Eulos had looked the oldest she had ever seen the day her father had died. The man's silver hairs seemed to have doubled in that final hour. At this moment he looked the youngest she had seen him in years, behaving like a petulant child. The man wagged a finger at her as he spoke with unchecked fury.

"Your father would fall ill and die again were he alive to have witnessed this day!" A tiny vein bulged at his temple as he strained to be loud and ferocious in spite of his sedated vocal chords. "I've not witnessed such a vulgar display since seeing the Sibiline whores that entertained the men in camp during my youth."

Pursing her lips, Isana understood his anger. Castaceans, by nature, were far more reserved about their sexuality. It was not a thing of shame, but it was approached with far more discretion than this. "What would you have me done? Insult the King and Queen before all their people simply because I was ignorant to their ceremonies? My ignorance was my own fault. I have suffered the consequence of it. Now let it be no more. Tomorrow is their feasting day and the day after is a day of dancing in the streets, parades and performances--"

"Like the performance I just saw?" Eulos roared. "Such suffering as that I have never seen. You writhed and moaned as well as the most talented whores ever I have known!"

Isana's eyes narrowed. "As if you have never witnessed such from me before! I know that you kept close watch over me when Sartarus took my maidenhead, nor again every time we bed before his death in the war. How different is it to witness this now, than it was for you to watch my deflowering only years ago?"

Eulos's finger stabbed toward the doors, making accusation toward the whole of the Temple. "To lie with a lover is one thing. To lie with strangers for the visual enjoyment of others is disgraceful. It is pornography. You are defiled and unfit to be Queen is what they will argue now in Actova. The self-righteous senators will flaunt this to discredit your right of power."

"And what leathery old senator will come in my stead to negotiate the Actovan's assistance?! NONE. We would all die in the streets at the hands of the Sibiline— those who are not taken and branded, stripped of their humanity and made to serve as livestock." Isana's eyes glossed with hot angry tears. "What kind of warrior— what kind of MAN are you that could even think to let that happen? Would you not sacrifice anything to prevent such a fate for your family?"

"I AM trying to protect my family, Isana!" he argued through clenched teeth.

Turning from him with a snarl she spat venomous words though she knew not why she was attempting to hurt him. "You have no family Eulos. You are a man with dead seed with no field to sow it in. I have my people, and soon I'll have a husband. You will still have nothing but your over-developed sense of virtue."

Having her back to him, Isana was startled into a voiceless scream when he gripped her arm and flung her down onto the floor. She hit roughly, her hands slapping onto the marble as she caught herself. Before she could turn or push herself up, Eulos was upon her. One hand gripped the less than modest garb and cast it off as the other hooked about her hips and jerked her back toward him roughly. He gripped her hair and jerked her head back toward him.

"If my seed be dead then let me plant it in the same field as every other man today. Let me offer MY seed up to the Goddess' vessel for replenished virility," he snarled with a snide hiss, his breath hot against her ear and rank with the scent of wine.

"Eulos no..." Isana squealed, struggling to pull free of the much larger praetorian. He released her hair but only so long as to free himself of his own garb.

The brute force of his cock battering into the door of her femininity held no less rage than a team of soldiers bearing down on the gatehouse of a castle rampart. Had she voice to wail, she would have, but Isana's tears were soundless as they glided about her contorted mouth and fell to the tiled marble floor. Entangling his fingers possessively in her thick black hair, Eulos bent over her as he thrust in without mercy. "Sacrifice should come with pain, shouldn't it, your highness? I witnessed no pain today...only the wanton fucking of a Castacean whore. Does your cunt yet scream in agony or are you too well used to suffer my girth?"

Isana reached out toward the furs, for anything to grip onto to pull herself away from him, any way to escape this unprecedented rage. Suddenly she whimpered with relief when her jerked free of her. Eulos left her side only briefly, leaving her simpering on the cold floor. The woman believed he had come to his senses or at the very least found no more pleasure in doling out pain. The scratch of his scruffy cheek against hers as he bent over her, pulling her to him again from behind, and his next words, however, instilled more terror than even his first violations.

"You are right, Isana. I have born witness to your deflowering and defilement today and for years. I have suffered from the shadows in silence as so many other men have laid between your thighs and taken for granted the glorious pasture in which they traveled. Sartarus was never worthy of you. A pock faced boy that rutted with less grace than a dog. If it takes no more than a dog to please you, then so be it." 




Whispered Rites of Sacrifice Ch. 02



Isana felt his arms hug her back against him tighter, felt her knees throbbing in pain from the unforgiving stone floor.

"I deserve to have no less than they, and yet there is nothing you have yet to open up to me. No bud unplucked--"

"Eulos please stop..." she sobbed. "I am sorry, most sorry...please..."

"No, no 'please', Isana. If wanting you is all that is required to have you then I will have it." He grumbled menacingly in her ear. As she felt him enter her again it was with only a modicum more care, but his heavy pumping was brief. Suddenly she felt the familiar ooze of warm oil slicking her skin, this time coursing down the apex of her buttocks into her nethers. As she felt his thumb tenderly swirl about the tiny rose bud of her posterior, Isana shuddered and quaked with sudden renewed terror.

A shrill cry managed to squeak past her narcotically weakened vocal chords. "NO, EULOS! GOD NO! I HAVE NEVER ALLOWED-- NO MAN HAS EVER--!!"

"Good," he interrupted her. "Then I shall have something special."

Still rooted deep within her, Eulos leaned back far enough to look down at where he had imbedded within her. Building lust heated his organ until it visibly throbbed within the junction of their joining. Isana felt his thumb again as it liberally applied the oil and she tensed with a sob as she felt him begin to test her depths with just the pressure of his digit.

"Don't tense," he instructed with a tone that suddenly sounded loving and patient rather than cold and cruel. "Just trust that I will not hurt you."

Bowing forward to bury her head in her arms, Isana wailed, "but you are hurting me..."

"Shh..." he hushed her in that same tone, as if instructing a frightened child how to swim. Continuing the amatory massage of the warm, dusky pink halo about her virgin entry, Eulos renewed a languid rhythm, gliding in and out of her slick quim. Although he could still feel the minute shiver of her shoulders as she cried into the floor, proof of other emotions began to betray her.

"Oh Isana..." he whispered with a rapturous purr, as the hand gripping her hips lifted to smooth over her goose-prickled flesh. "Let go of your fear and trust in me...have you not always trusted in me...?"

Her buttocks and thighs had dappled with the tiny raised bumps, belying the kindling elation smoldering within. Isana made no effort to flee him, though he no longer held her immobile. Eulos withdrew his thumb and carefully introduced her to his largest finger, making sure not to pressure her too quickly. Although she had been sobbing in protest, he now felt her body accepting his, heard the faint puffs of rapturous sighs against the cool white floor. Eventually his coaxing relaxed her and Isana eased back into her hips, lending her weight to him. It was at this point when he knew that there would be no stopping.

Though her words had hurt him deeply, Eulos was determined not to prove her right by merely using her. The man knew he had already failed in some respect, having assaulted her like a coward and a savage. He held no disgust for her, only hurt, that in all the years he had protected her, guided and taught her, watched her blossom into a beauteous vision of godly perfection, never once had she even deigned to look on him as a man, only ever a soldier.

Withdrawing from her, he felt a fire flare in his heart as she whimpered in disappointment, until he lifted her from the floor and carried her to the furs. The luxurious pelts were expertly cut and cleaned. The animal flesh softened until sumptuous as silk on bare skin. Every strand of fur was soft as angel's hair and was a blessing on Isana's wounded knees. Leaving her lay a moment, Eulos arranged a small mound of pillows, then with an incline of his head he gestured for her to lay upon them. Guiding her with one hand, he indicated that she should bow over them, allowing them to bear more of her weight than her knees. As she did this, the praetorian stripped of his sandals and clothing, discarding them hurriedly nearby.

Bending over her to brush at her cheek, Eulos whispered, "I never wanted to hurt you. I've only ever loved you..."

"Show me..." she met his gaze, ensuring that he saw the willingness within her eyes.

Slipping between the tufts of fur, Isana's finger gripped tightly even as she focused on remaining relaxed. Although exhibitionism and multiple partners had been new to her, the exploits of the day had not been a venture beyond her experiences. What Eulos asked of her now was unknown to her. In fact, it was an act that she had never thought upon save to shift uncomfortably when mentioned. The man's plea to be accepted in a way no other man had been was all that convinced her to consider such a thing.

Liberal streams of oil slicked her body again, Eulos massaging much into her back, hips and buttocks then caressing upward to her breasts. The glide of his hands over her skin, the pressure as he rubbed down into her muscles, then the titillating brush of his greased hands over her nipples began to quicken her heartbeat. When one hand snaked around to slip between the folds of her petal pink lips and the other coaxed her behind into readiness again, Isana's heart raced more and her breath caught short.

"Relax, Isana...I will not hurt you," he whispered with his lips against her back. His thumb was joined at the entrance to her hind end by a round, silken nub. It was warm and Isana knew immediately what it was. Eulos' fore hand slid from her clitoris deep into her folds until he plunged a finger deep within. Massaging her until a second digit slid easily in, the man worked her up into an impassioned heat. Her back arched for him and again she shifted her weight back toward him, silently pleading for more. The tip of his rigid rod pressed to her hole, the thick sheen of oil helping it to glide easily. Time was in their favor, so Eulos did not rush letting his meat sink into her a fraction at a time. Isana tensed again as she felt him press more firmly. Eulos hesitated focusing on plucking her rose without tearing the petals. Much taller than she, his fingers were long and curled easily up and into her pink conch. As he plunged deeper within there, Eulos' free hand slid along her side to capture one free hanging breast, to pluck at this tiny rose bud wishing desperately to taste it.

Although the seeds prevented her from uttering true sound, the exhalation of air was akin to a moan, and Eulos knew that Isana was ready. Her grip on his member had lessened and with one firm but controlled thrust he pushed just far enough to breach her gate. He felt her jerk and tense in spite of his distractions, but she immediately relaxed again and he was able to slowly work his way deeper into the cave.

Fingers clenched tightly in the furs, Isana felt sensations unlike any other. Having learned by her blindfolding earlier how heightening the darkness could be, she kept her eyes shut tight and focused on nothing but what she felt. Eulos' strong hands supported her but with such tenderness and gentility as she never had known him to have.

Never had Isana felt so close to someone. Eulos enveloped her, his chest to her back, his arms around her, caressing her. Oh, how he filled her. Little by little the man's large, strong fingers had worked deep inside her. One, then two, now three. Oils coated them both and their hips slid with stimulating ease. Every pump was gentle, controlled until the woman's guardian felt his charge begin to scale toward climax. As Isana's body took control of her mind and began to undulate instinctively, Eulos matched her movements without effort. To his surprise as their pace quickened she gasped, "harder..."

Not one to disappoint a lover, Eulos increased the force of his thrust, pushing deep, harder, faster. The two bodies arched and bowed like wild cats, Eulos not letting her pull away. Muscles tightened and spasmed in a rippling wave of exaltation. He marveled only briefly at the sensation of her deep satin flesh as it clenched about his fingers, then his mind was ripped away by the intense grip her most private burrow. Holding tight to her, his hair dampening from his own sweat and the beads of moisture on her back, Eulos withheld his embalming injection no longer. The cry of his deliverance was little more than a rasped grunt, but so melodic it seemed in harmony with the tiny whimpers of Isana's screams. The effects of the stimulating seeds was wearing off, and Eulos wanted to let it. He wanted to hear her lyrical voice screaming an aria to his gifts.

Trembling and shivering, her body chilling quickly, Isana rest against Eulos until he extracted himself most delicately. If she had felt empty when her first lover withdrew that evening, she felt cavernous now. With a shudder of abandonment, Isana reached out for Eulos as he pulled away from her and rose. Turning to look up at him, his back to her, she admired the sculpted musculature of his back, the tautness of his buttocks. Those scars which he bore only enhanced his masculinity.

Isana watched knowing that he was cleaning himself, then when her knees were solid again, she rose and took his elbow, guiding him toward the bath. "You can clean more thoroughly here," she admonished softly. 

Stepping gratefully into the steaming bath, Eulos watched the young woman's nubile body as she retrieved two seeds from the dish at the shrine then returned to him. Before she could step into the bath, he rose up and caught her about the hips, kissing her sloped belly. As he did so, his hand slid about her buttocks. Warm seminal fluid met his fingers at the cusp of her cheeks and the knowledge that it was his drew Eulos' phallus to strain upward.

Quivering at his touch in what was now a highly sensitized region, Isana moved forward, descending into the pool. Placing a seed in her mouth she bent forward and met his eyes. "Had you come to me, Eulos...I have been so lonely since Sartarus died."

Eulos' eyes held hers, his expression pained. "I have never wanted just wanton sex from you, Isana. Were that all, then yes...I would have spoken. I am a man of honor. I wanted you to love me."

"Do you?" she studied his face intently. "Do you love me?"

"More than life," he replied, his voice thick and husky as it broke through the narcotics of the seeds. One powerful arm hooked about her waist and drew her to him again, his tongue snaking between her lips and coiling about hers as he absorbed the narcotic nectar of her kiss. Eulos moaned in rapture as the limber woman suddenly straddled him and lowered herself onto his rapidly hardening manhood. Although their joining was not so well lubricated this time, Isana showed no less enthusiasm than the later hour of their previous engagement.

Breaking the kiss only briefly to slip the second seed between his lips, Isana fixed her eyes on his as she rolled her hips against him as if mounted upon a saddle. Their bodies far too taxed, neither would orgasm again, but they clung to one another enjoying their erotic bond. Leaning back to wet her hair, Isana let her body float on the surface, her legs anchoring her about Eulos' waist. He bent forward to finally capture one fluted breast between his lips savoring the taste of her. 

Time became immaterial lolling along like an eternal hymn. When fatigue began to still their energy to move, Eulos led her from the bath and tenderly pat her dry as a sculpture might after polishing a marble statue of Aphrodite. Drying himself far quicker, he then joined her on the shrine of their lovemaking. Curling against her warm, silken flesh, one powerful arm pulling her back against his chest and nestling his nose against her neck.

"Stay with me, Isana," he pleaded. "Let me take care of you...let me be your foundation."

Turning her head, the young woman eyed him over her shoulder, conflict shadowed her eyes and contorted her brow. "What of the treaty? What if King Tellam--? We need their support, Eulos."

"Militarily, yes. But if you agree to take his son as your husband what you will really be doing is handing Castacea over to them. You think an Actovan male will sit in submission to his Castacean bride?" The man's jaw tightened. He had spoken to her of this before. Somehow he hoped that his message would be clearer heard after what they'd shared. 

"As Queen I am free to have lovers as I will--"

Shaking his head, Eulos tried not to be impatient with her. "I love you, Isana. I have loved you far more than I should for far longer than is decent. Please, let me be your husband— and I shall claim no more title than I bear now. Tell me I deserve more room in your heart than that of a consort?"

Isana turned her face into the furs troubled with thought. Was it wise to risk insulting the King and Queen Maithuna of Actova by refusing their son? Then again she had yet to see or meet this Actovan Prince. How could she commit to such a bond without even meeting her intended? Eulos at least she knew was true to his word, just, loyal and...and even before this night she had known he loved her. Perhaps she had simply denied herself the knowledge.

"Yes," she replied without looking at him. "I will find another way to please the Actovan Monarchy to gain their support should they indeed propose a marriage."

Eulos' bearish embrace was comforting, the fit of his body as it molded to hers, perfect. With the deep, steady rhythm of his breath in her ear, the thrumming of his heartbeat against her back and the protective weight of his arm draped over her waist, Isana fell asleep hoping that tomorrow would not bring political unrest.



Whispered Rites of Sacrifice Ch. 03



Part Three: A Scornful Betrayal

Morning wrapped Isana in ribbons of warm silk sunlight. Her olive skin felt sateen and the faintest brush of the furs against it prickled her flesh and sent shivers along her limbs. Peeling open her eyes she expected to find Eulos beside her, but the sunlight's warmth chilled and she found only a hollowed dent upon the furs where he had lain.

Sitting up, she scoured the room for signs of him but saw none and when she rose, her eyes lit upon a rich crimson sari draped over the chaise. It struck her as odd that Eulos would willingly leave her alone, but she knew he would not leave her side if he thought her to be in the least at risk. 

Slicking her skin with perfumed balms from the small ivory pots on the toiletry tray, Isana then wrapped her hair in the elegant and intricate braids of her people, until only a few curling tendrils hung to her shoulders. The sari was so extravagant and she wondered if it was a gift from Eulos or her hosts. The yards of rich passion-red fabric draped about her, the curves of her tone stomach and shoulders left bare beneath a very fitted silk choli blouse. Against her olive skin and ebony hair, the colors were magnificent and as she framed her face with the dupatta head scarf, her green eyes dazzled brightly.

Soft knocks on the door turned Isana's head and she called the visitor forth. "I am dressed..."

A small gaggle of brightly clad girls filed in. Isana tried not to imagine that any one of them were among those that had 'tended' to her the night before but noted that they were not the same girls who had escorted her to the room. Lifting a brow she gestured to the sari, "have I draped it correctly?"

The girls nodded their approval but only one spoke. She was near to Isana's age, perhaps a year or two younger, but she carried herself with a proud poise and addressed the Castacean queen with a more reserved warmth. To Isana she seemed somewhat aloof, but Isana was the stranger here and would tread carefully on their ground. This alabaster skinned leader stepped forward and removed Isana's dupatta Tucking the corner into the waist folds of her skirt.

"It suits you quite well, your majesty," the girl asserted as she examined Isana's hair then plucked a few blossoms from the nearby floral arrangement to adorn the braids here and there. Her own hair was a coppery orange, sleek from ironing and pulled into a high ponytail. "I am certain the Prince will like the sight of you very much."

Isana's lips pinched as she hummed, "hmm. I am not so interested in his approval of my appearance. I am here to seek he and his father's military aid."

"I know nothing of politics," the girl dismissed with an irritated sigh. Fixing her hazel eyes on Isana she stated blandly, "My name is Ryca. I was asked by Rainne-- that is, Queen Maithuna, to escort you about the grounds. Today will be a day of feasting and there will be parties of indulgence scattered throughout the city. The Temple is closed to all but the religious orders today...but her highness thought you may enjoy some of the historical sites of our fair city."

Smiling amiably, Isana nodded at her then glanced at the others. "That sounds lovely. As soon as my guardian returns--"

"Guardian?" Ryca looked outright insulted. "You so distrust us yet you would ask our aid. Pardon the word of a simple woman, your majesty but if these are Castacean ways then I find your people quite rude."

Mouth agape, Isana stared at her a long moment before replying carefully. "I meant no insult, of course...only to be sure he knew where I was and that I was in safe care. Eulos is charged with my safety, a mission he takes very seriously. I certainly did not mean to imply that you or anyone would do anything to me."

Ryca's nose was still uplifted as she sniffed and gestured toward the desk at the far end of the room. "Scratch him out a note. I am sure he has not gone far and will return soon enough. He is more than welcome to enjoy the feast day without escort or charge."

Bending over the desk, Isana dipped the quill and scrawled a note for Eulos. Her handwriting was well practiced and elegant, her message poetic at first then pragmatic.

"Dearest Eulos,

"Though it was anger's passion that first rose to heat this room, t'was love's passion that kept it warm when night's chill fought to creep. Too long left silent were your feelings as I erred in neglecting to see you as more than just my steadfast sentinel.

"I have been escorted to see historic Florynia and so as not to bring insult to the Actovans, I graciously go. Do not fear my safety lest you not see me by midday.

"As passion's kiss doth warm thy lips, so do you warm my heart."

~Isana"

Propping the letter against the vase near the door, Isana nodded to her escorts and they left with Ryca at the lead. The small herd of gazelle like young women, wandered through the palace to the streets. As they walked Ryca gestured to various landmarks and explained their significance between such stories the other girls plagued Isana with questions about Castacea.

"Is it true Castacean's never have sex?"

"Of course not," Isana scoffed. "How else would we breed? Were that true, Castacea would have long gone extinct."

Another girl grasped her arm, "is it true that the men there are not all required to fight in battle before taking up a profession?"

"This is true. We believe that all must serve in some socially conscious role before attaining adult hood. Men must serve at arms, as peace keepers or in roles of civil service. Women must act as secretaries to public offices or libraries, serve as nannies or educators. This period lasts minimally a year...but some chose to remain in whatever profession they chose to serve. In fact many women in our society do not marry and chose to work instead."

"My Goddess....no husband?" a very heavily made up girl gasped. Her kohl lined eyes seemed enormous at the thought. "How could they live without sex? Without...without children?"

Isana laughed loudly now. "Sex and marriage are not mutually exclusive. There is nothing to say a woman must marry to bear children. We Castaceans are just...more discreet in our affairs than you Actovans. It is a private matter for us, not something for public discussion or...um..." she gestured with a flip of her wrist, her cheeks coloring.

"Or for exhibitionist displays?" Ryca retorted acerbically. "Funny that you made no protest last night."

Drawing herself up, Isana pursed her lips, "I was actively participating in your nation's spiritual festivities as a show of diplomacy. I would think...I would hope that any diplomat from Actova would do the same in Castacea."

A blonde girl who seemed closest to Ryca in familiarity smirked and added, "so that's what diplomacy looks like..."

Isana made no argument, only scowled and followed along as Ryca and her friend led them down a path threw an exquisite garden. As they walked and Isana answered more inane questions from the fluttering Actovan misses, the path became less kept. The shrubbery became overgrown with ivy, the cobblestones parted and coated with patches of moss. 

The young queen's suspicions began to rise. "Are we going somewhere? It seems we are far from the core of the city now..."

"Oh we're still nearer the city center than you think," the blonde admonished her with a giggle.

Ryca added as the group stepped out into a clearing. "I wanted to show you something marvelous."

Moving forward, Isana regarded the extraordinary structure at the center of the clearing. A large circle stood amidst the overgrown patches of grass and moss. Exotic patterns were formed in the stones with colored clay, and around the perimeter of the circle stood a series of erect columns, each brightly painted and tiled in vivid blues, golds and reds. One column stood larger than the others and was capped with a now broken headpiece that Isana could see had at one time served as a marker of sorts, using sunlight and shadow to trace out a line on the remainder of the circle behind it. Directly before that, although not yet near the center of the circle was a strange little wall. No more than three feet wide and perhaps only three feet tall, the wall was also tiled with an ornate mosaic portraying the trials of Florynia.

"My goodness," she gasped. "This is truly beautiful...an ancient shrine, I take it?"

"Come," Ryca beckoned with a finger. "You must see it in detail."

Guiding Isana and the others down into the circle, Ryca smiled and purred as she spoke. "Although the temple is erected about the Tree of Life...this is the place where Florynia was in fact bled...and devoured."

Isana's eyes locked on Ryca a moment then returned to the pillars as she stepped cautiously into the ancient ring. "This is where she was murdered and eaten..." she echoed in awe, still mesmerized by the legend.

"I will show you..." Ryca gestured for Isana to come to her before the tallest pillar. She stood beside the wall. Isana stepped up to the wall and rest her hands on it looking up at the large column. She noticed now that chains and shackles hung from most of the pillars, save the few that time had ravaged. The shackles hung from a chain that was thread through a loop high on the column then attached to a winch in the pillar's base. 

"Florynia...it is believed," Ryca spoke in an educational tone. "Stood exactly where you stand now."

The blonde had lifted the shackles and brought them to Ryca who now held them out for Isana to see. "She was bound in these, probably tight enough to cut into her skin. Then the winch was tightened and she was hoisted over the wall just enough that she could be bled out from the neck."

Ryca indicated the ground. "You see here...where the stones are discolored?" She eyed Isana who was intent on the story and rapt with curiosity. Extending the shackles Ryca murmured, "do you want to know how they feel? How she felt...?" At the glint of unease in Isana's eyes Ryca chirped, "don't worry...I don't think they even still lock and the winch is most decidedly too old and broken."

Curiosity ever her greatest fault, Isana extended her hands to Ryca, allowing the girl to clamp the metal bracelets about her wrists. The metal was cold and heavy. Isana was surprised at how tight they seemed and wondered if the ancient Mangorians only ever sacrificed women. No man's wrist would ever fit these binds. Ryca closed them then suddenly clamped the pins in tightly, turning and locking them in place.

"Ryca! Ryca this isn't funny. I want you to take them off please," Isana gasped as she tugged at the metal chain and tried to reach the pins herself.

The other girls she suddenly noticed had retreated closer to the garden again and watched with a mild horror, but not surprise. This had been planned...whatever this was. Suddenly Isana's attention was jarred back to Ryca as the red head turned the winch, pulling the chain taut. She continued to turn it as she spoke venomously through her teeth.

"Was it funny when you bed with Strom and Lybon, shaming their wives— MY SISTERS? Was it funny when you flaunted your Castacean beauty before all of Actova?" Ryca snarled as she forced the winch to move.

Isana's body stretched taut until she was pulled over the wall, her hips resting on the ledge and her feet left hanging, her toes barely able to scrape the ground.

"Ryca! PLEASE!!" she wailed, true fear filling her now. Terror that they would leave her here to the elements...or worse, bleed her out as Florynia had been. "Ryca please let me go! I am sorry that I have shamed your family in some way! I never meant to--"

"Of course you didn't!" Ryca roared then approached Isana and gripped her braids, jerking them tightly to the side and eliciting a yelp of pain from the woman. "I suppose you didn't mean to strip me of my future as princess either."

"What?"

"Arao! You fucking cunt!" Ryca snarled then spat on her face. "Arao was to be my husband....until he learned that you were seeking aide, then he and his father started prattling on about political solidarity and wise investments. As if marriage were a business arrangement!"

"If he loves you, he will marry you, Ryca," Isana sobbed. "I have no interest in marrying him. I would only have accepted if there were no other way to help my people. I've never even SEEN Arao! How could he possibly love me?"

Ryca leaned forward and screamed in her face, "EVERYONE SAW YOU ISANA! EVERYONE!!"

Tugging the dupatta from the waist of Isana's sari, Ryca pulled a peach from her hip pouch. Setting the fruit within the silk scarf she then twisted the fabric on either side to form a ball gag. Isana fought her with tears in her eyes, kicking and bucking, but Ryca ordered her friend over to help. "Gelosi! Hold her!"

The blonde scurried over with the hyper expression of someone excited to be doing something wrong but fearful of getting caught. Grasping hold of Isana's hips, she slid her arms down to hold the woman's bucking legs. Ryca stuffed the fruit into her mouth then tightly bound the scarf around her head. Although gagged, Isana tried to scream and to plead for reasons, terrified of what they aimed to do.

Bending over to meet Isana's eyes, Ryca undid the tie of her blouse, letting it and her bosom hand free. Shaking her head and moaning around the gag in misery, Isana tried to plead with her captor to cease this assault. Ryca paid her no mind save to savor Isana's discomfort. Reaching out she caressed each breast in turn. The feather light brush of fingertips on her tiny buds brought them to an attentive hardness. Again Isana whimpered, although this time in humiliation at even this minute display of arousal.

Ryca gripped the tiny, firm nipples and twisted them with merciless force. Isana tried to scream and bucked against Gelosi, who still tightly hugged her legs. Shifting to hug Isana's thighs from the side, Gelosi giggled then slid one hand up Isana's skirt. Without preamble her fingers sought out Isana's sex and in spite of the woman's writhing and wailing, Gelosi pushed a finger deep inside her. Hooking that finger, the nervous blonde began working it against Isana's deepest muscles, coaxing them toward moisture.

Combined with Ryca's increasingly aggressive assault on her breasts, Isana wept in pain and abasement. As the cruel woman's tongue lashed across one nipple, taunting it and teasing it to pleasure, Ryca twisted and pulled at the other. Then just before switching to wrap her full, glossed lips around the other breast, Ryca would bite down on the breast in her mouth, eliciting a pained wail from Isana.

Suddenly she heard the heavy footsteps of men behind her and Gelosi withdrew her hand from Isana's skirts and released her legs, just as Ryca stopped her twisting and biting of the queen's breasts. Isana dared to hope that Eulos had found her, or that someone had seen and was here to intervene, but then Ryca spoke. "You're early! I was not to be seen with you— any of you!"

"Easy princess..." a gruff Sibiline man's voice chuckled. "Your little delivery here was making so much noise, I was worried she'd get away...but I can see you two have her well in hand."

"She's quite secure. That wasn't the point. If I'm seen with you then her disappearance can be traced to me. I'm aiming to be Actova's queen. Arao is ready to bed me...so if you want me in his bed then you can not expose me as his enemy!" Ryca glowered then spat at Isana again. "You are their gift, girl. The Sibilines get you and all of Castacea at their mercy...and, when the moment presents itself...I get Actova with Sibiline's backing."

Isana shook her head. Was the woman an idiot?? There was no way that the Sibilines would just graciously help her to gain control of Actova— not when it was just as easy to take it for themselves!

The Castacean queen heard the exchange of monies and promises behind her, then Ryca and Gelosi trotted back up the hill to the garden path where they rejoined the other far less assured girls. Isana watched them go with bleary eyes, her insides freezing up as she wondered what her nation's greatest enemy planned to do to her.

"Hermn..." the gruff leader's voice groaned in thought behind her. Then she heard him chuckle loudly, "well men...the Commander isn't expecting her until nightfall. What do you suggest we do until then?"

There was a chorus of hearty shouts most in the slang of the Sibiline tongue, which Isana was not as fluent in as she was the formal language. She needn't know the meaning of the colloquialisms, however, to understand what they meant. Tears burned her eyes and she shook and bucked on the chain like a fish hooked and tossed on deck.

Suddenly behind her she felt the large, heavy hands of the Sibiline Captain on her hips. Bucking she kicked back at him to which their was a unified, "ho!" The Captain laughed then snapped his fingers and called for something, but Isana didn't understand the word. Although she continued to kick, her ankles were quickly immobilized and to her horror they were shackled as well but with a bar between them so she could not close her legs.

"We use this to bind the hands of slaves...a bar to brace over their back as we guide them. You'll be wearing it later, but for now...it has a surprisingly useful secondary purpose." The Captain grinned at her, admiring her exposed, pinkened breasts as he crouched, then lifted his gaze to look her in the eye. He was not an attractive man. He was tall and burly like a gladiatorial fighter. His face was scarred and one eye was slightly milky. Wiry white hairs sprouted visibly on his chest just above where his breast plate covered. His head was shaved and tattooed with the Sibiline Griffon. Worst was the smell. Isana's nostrils burned of his rank odor, that of a soldier months on the road without wash.

The Captain met her green eyes and grunted, "we are going to rape you. It will hurt. But you'll not be cut or beaten or damaged in any other way. Commander wouldn't like that. I do promise you one thing." His chin dipped with his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'll not let anyone take your ass but me..."

As horror registered in her eyes, the Captain flashed a metal-toothed smile and chortled as he rose. On his belt, Isana's eyes lit upon a short club, the end of which was studded with metal nubs. Although he'd not threatened her with it at all, something in her gut sank as she feared what was to come.

As she hung helplessly, Isana's body was stripped of the fine garments. The silk sari was piled to the side, just within her view as if to remind her that she was nude. Her blouse, although already open, could not be removed only slid up the chains, so the Captain used his dagger and cut it off, tossing it aside.

"Captain goes first," Isana heard a gravelly voice order. "The rest of you file into rank." 

The rest? Isana thought. My God how many are there?

The Captain's heavy hands caressed her buttocks, the rough callouses of a life time's labor scratching harshly over the soft, pampered skin of the queen. Her olive-tanned flesh gave the impression of a deer carcass stretched out for slaughter. 

"I have something for you, sweets..." the Captain muttered quietly. "But you mustn't tell the men I showed you mercy." Reaching around her from behind, the man forced his fingers into her mouth beneath the gag and stuffed two small round pellets beneath her tongue. The drug tablets began to dissolve immediately. "They will let you feel some pleasure. It will not take away the pain or even make you willing...but you will care a little less."

As if his words were a cure all, the Captain ran his hand around her hips to her freshly shaved lips. "Interesting..." he crooned with surprise then quickly delved into her with his fingers. The lack of lubrication in spite of Gelosi's clumsy poking did indeed cause her pain and Isana squirmed trying to free herself, trying to scream but to no avail. Regardless of her pain filled cries, the Captain continued to plunge into her, spitting on his other hand and adding that to coax her body into cooperation. After only a few minutes of ravaging her mercilessly with his hand, Isana's body began to lubricate in self-defense. Her entire body was quivering as she sobbed, unable to fight and slowly feeling a tingling numbness creep over her body.




Whispered Rites of Sacrifice Ch. 03



There was no warning, no petting or kissing, no gentlemanly approach before the Captain impaled her with his fleshy sword. His hands gripped her hips and pulled back even as he slammed forward into her. The tension on the shackles caused the metal to bite into her wrists. The beating of her hips and knees against the tile covered stone wall began to bruise her tender flesh. And the assault on her womanhood still ripped at her as if he'd simply used his club. Yet the tingle under her tongue and in her mind began to spread. 

Isana became distant from what was happening to her. Not so distant that she was unaware, but it concerned her less than it should. Soon the tingling filtered through her limbs and Isana felt it collecting in her groin, as if it were water pooling between her legs. As this tingling pooled, she began to feel the pain of the Sibiline's pumping subsiding some. It was still a discomfort but she began to feel a pleasure associated with it. Logic told her she should be mortified, she should force herself to remain focused, but her subconscious took control and decided that unwelcome pleasure was still better than feeling only pain.

The Captain slapped her ass cheek sharply, leaving a red palm print as he felt her body start to respond. Her quim was hot and he felt the flow of her appreciation as his cock slid easily in and out of her. Thrusting harder and faster he continued to ride her until he heard a faint whimper. Too much longer and he would cum inside her, which he intended to do...just not here. Withdrawing swiftly, he pressed his well slicked member to her vulnerable anal entry and without the courtesy of gentility he thrust in.

Isana bucked with a pained wail, her shoulders and back quivering as she sobbed from the pain that had sliced through her growing fog of apathy. As the Captain pounded into her however, the tingling returned and soon Isana was bending her knees and pushing back into him. In her mind she called up Eulos' image. She traced the lines of his face and recalled how his body had felt. With this fantasy in place she moaned loudly around her gag. The Captain slapped her buttocks again, revitalizing her crimson mark. The snap of his palm on her skin opened Isana's eyes and dissolved what little fantasy she had created, but by now the drugs were in full effect and she did not care. Now she felt only what her body felt, and her body felt pleasure as the Captain thrust into her until his scrotum swung and slapped against her wet lips. Again and again he plunged into her, each time she felt that smack of flesh against her swollen labia. Suddenly the man gripped her hips harder and jerked her back. At first she only felt his body jerk against hers, then she felt the heated fluid as it filled her. The Captain pumped against her a few times more then withdrew.

Isana felt hollow, but this did not last long. The Captain's voice suddenly grunted in her ear, "I promised you that no one but me would fuck your sweet little ass, but I also promised that this would hurt."

Without explanation, the Captain ran his club along the line of her spine, lined it up with her small vacated tunnel then thrust it in. Isana twisted and squealed then shuddered into moans. The moaning continued as she felt a new set of hands grip her hips. This man was smaller, not as rough, but she knew his interest was just the same. With the drug pumping through her bloodstream, Isana was seeing swirling colors behind her eyelids and every touch she felt was amplified, both pleasurably and painfully. This soldier felt different, however. The presence of the club in her anus prevented any of the other soldiers from entering her there, but with it Isana felt full and now this ranking soldier was thrusting into her and she felt near ready to burst.

Never would Isana have guessed that a woman could be so thoroughly overstuffed...no, sated. As this man delved into her petal-soft center, Isana felt the awakening she had the night before with Strom and Lybon. She felt her senses come alive and her inhibitions fall away. Granted it was whatever hallucinogen the Captain had crammed into her mouth that was allowing her to do so, but it mattered not as Isana's body began to writhe in rhythm with the soldier. His grunts were callous and bestial. He pawed at her breasts like a child at a wet nurse. Though the slide of his engorged member in and out of her canal at increasing speed caused Isana to strain against her shackles and fight to meet him. Far too soon, however, it was ended and Isana, not yet truly sated, slumped in disappointment as the man withdrew and covered her back with his seed. As if to emphasize his victory, the Sibiline rubbed the semen in like a massaging lotion or war paint, leaving Isana's back sticky.

Gravity released her without warning and the Castacean woman barked about her gag as she felt herself suddenly lifted up by her thighs. The next soldier to claim his right to futu? was, it seemed, a tall man. Hoisting her up to his height, the giant of a man held her aloft as easily as a normal grown man might lift a child. In spite of her open and moist passageway, to say he impaled her was no exaggeration. Isana cried out around her gag, disoriented by the lack of stability as the Sibiline began to work her on his groin as if he made use of a toy. Isana had heard of such things, dolls made for men and women to engage with when shame kept them from prostitutes and loneliness left them unsatisfied. She never thought she would feel like one. A doll made of silk and stuffed with sawdust, a club in her rectum and a giant thrusting at her mercilessly. 

When the pain subsided and the waves of elation began to emanate through her again, Isana's drugged body responded only to the pleasure. Long musical moans began to rise out of her throat, muffled behind her gag. The Captain stood watching as the juice of the peach began to ooze from her lips dribbling down over her chin. Though it was clear he could imagine it milky and the thought hardened him again. There would be no time, however. As his enormously tall subordinate pumped the last of his cum deep inside their captive, the scouts signaled that Actovans were near. The few men in line behind the tall man groaned in disappointment, but obeyed their Captain's snap quickly running to disassemble their camp for retreat.

Isana's chain was slackened, her body hanging limply over the wall like a used cum rag. The Captain couldn't resist jabbing her with two fingers as he gripped his club and yanked it from her behind as if dislodging a stubborn nail from wood. The woman tensed and wailed but all too quickly fell slack and moaned with the invasive plying of the Captain's fingers.

Stepping away from her, the Captain handed the club over to a page and wiped his hand clean on a rag. "Drape her over a horse. Bound her hands and feet with rope, but cover her with the sari silk. We must make it to the Commander's encampment without drawing too much attention." The man's milky eye scanned the horizon searching for signs of Actovan guardsmen. He saw nothing.



Whispered Rites of Sacrifice Ch. 04



Part Four: The Fallen Queen

"THE MIGHTY QUEEN ISANA WHITESPEAR!"

A boot planted firmly in her lower back as a hand released her hair and Isana tumbled forward landing on her knees, face planting in the hard packed dirt. The woman could not recall anything that had happened since she was strapped to a horse after being taken in turn by Sibiline soldiers. She could not even recall having taken her feet before she felt the sharp kick that sent her roughly to the ground.

The confusion mounted as she listened to the cheering of a large crowd, as though she'd been cast into a coliseum. Perhaps she was to be eaten by wild animals for the Sibilines' entertainment. Sinking back onto her feet, Isana spit the dirt from her mouth and fought to focus her eyes. A bonfire burned, lighting up the mob and casting off enough heat that the cool night air no longer made her naked body shiver.

The hand gripped her hair again and jerked her head up to look into the face of a man she didn't recognize. "Look at you now Queen Isana," he snarled resulting in another riotous cheer.

"I'm not a queen," she said, her voice much louder in her head than she managed to utter.

The man let out a mocking guffaw, then straightened and gestured to the crowd like the proud winner of a contest. "She is not a queen, she says!"

"Then she is a whore!"

The voice came from someone among the crowd and was followed by a series of laughs, cheers and like remarks. Laughing and smirking down at Isana the man chortled, "what think you of that, Highness? Are you a whore?" He flashed his large white teeth, teeth that reminded Isana of a well-bred horse. "My men tell tales that you are, that you moan and wet at their every thrust."

Isana wanted to scream that she'd been drugged, but she knew well that it would do no good. They were going to debase her in every way these savages could imagine. The Commander was encircling her staring down as if determining his next tactical move. The shouts of the ranks surrounding them seemed to be spurring him on. Something must be done to appease their animal hunger, but he seemed to be weighing his options carefully as if to chose the wrong act of humiliation would result in punishment from the Bajan.

"Shall I make the Queen lick the ground at my feet?!" he shouted to which there was a roar of approval followed by a few lewd suggestions in the Sibiline slang that Isana had yet to learn. 

She studied the man towering over her. His dress was far finer than that of the Captain. Captain Ewald she vaguely recalled hearing him called. Evil with a D, she'd thought. Appropriate enough. This one, though, this Commander he was less brawn and more intelligent, educated even. By build he was no less intimidating, tall and muscled in a fashion that was born only of war, not that of a farmer. His dark hair was close cropped and of an even length to his short, bristled beard. All that set him apart from the others were his wild eyes, brown and flecked with gold. The finery he wore was likely a gift from the Bajan for a job well done, as a soldier's wages were rarely high, even among the highest ranks. Wealthy men were disinclined to fight, but would rather send others to fight for them, but he may have been born of money to be as educated as she was inclined to believe.

The man caught her intense stare and kicked her over into the dirt again. With her hands bound behind her it was difficult to right herself. Isana's current state of undress also made the act humiliating. There was no demure way to regain her posture. Somehow being ritually bedded by half a dozen men in a room of strangers while blindfolded and chained to a chaise was not nearly as violating as merely kneeling in the dirt, nude and tied.

Gesturing at her he scoffed, "perhaps I should make her prove what a good whore she is!" The crowd began to excite. "I think the Queen should show her appreciation for still being ALIVE here at my feet."

Isana's mouth fell open as she processed every possible scenario that this could lead to. The Commander saw her and smiled. "Well now...it seems the Queen has decided to offer up her services..."

Striding back to her he growled down at her, "don't close that mouth, Highness...you are about to thank me for ensuring that these savages are appeased without having to let them pass you around. For most, your humiliation and their promise of walking away with a fantasy to which they can pull their own snakeskins to is enough."

Shaking her head, Isana fought back tears and bile. "I've never--"

The Commander's smile spread broadly, "oh now that is something you should have kept to yourself, sweetheart." Straightening he raised his arms to rile them more, "her Highness has never tasted cock before!! Shall I show her what a REAL MAN'S cock tastes like?!"

The uproar was deafening and Isana nearly threw up at the very idea. Her entire body quaked and on instinct she looked frantically for some sign of escape. None was to be had. Lifting her chin with a defiant set to her jaw she struggled not to cry aloud, not to let them see her crumble and collapse. A Castacean should never bow so easily nor break so thoroughly beneath the tyrannical hand of their enemy. While they were a scholarly people, they were proud and they too had a military of prowess and strength. If Isana were to rule such a nation she must reflect it.

The glower on her face only delighted the Commander, "oh Highness...your determination to refuse only makes this far sweeter."

With a single point, the Commander had a young soldier, likely his page or knave holding her by her bound wrists. He knelt behind her, his own head down, so as not to appear as anything more than her restraint. The military leader, however stood right in front of her and removed his large leather belt passing it to the knave who draped it over his shoulder. Untying his pants, the Commander then beamed a smile at her.

"I will enjoy this," he grinned. "Not everyday a man has the lips of a Queen wrapped about his cock."

"I shall bite it off..." she snarled, eyes glaring with sincerity. Suddenly the sound of the knave's dagger unsheathing sent a shiver down her spine which intensified as the cold metal pressed against the front of her throat.

With a sly grin the Commander challenged, "I don't think so, highness."

Stepping forward, the man took notice that the crowd had fallen into a low murmur. While he was not anxious to be waving his manhood about for everyone to see, the man also knew that what he had told her was true. If the soldiers were not aptly satisfied by her humiliation, he may have trouble preventing further abuse to her before the Bajan arrived. Their ruler may be angered at her treatment already, but the man would deal with that when the time came.

Exposing himself to an instantaneous roar of approval, the Commander presented his semi-erect shaft. All of Isana's will-power was put into maintaining the locked glare she had on his eyes and not turning her head in disgust or fear. "It's easy, luv...just put it in your mouth and suckle like a baby at it's mother's teet."

"I won't."

Reaching down the Commander gripped her jaw and squeezed until the pain forced her to open her mouth. With his other hand he directed his flesh into her gaping maw then moved both hands to her hair, holding her head still so she could not pull away. Isana's eyes immediately watered as she struggled not to gag, the man's member currently thrust deep into her mouth, nearly choking her. He pulled her closer as she struggled against him, her airways completely blocked then. The woman thought she would suffocate and squealed trying to pull free. A sharp slice at her throat reminded her that the dagger was still present and after a moment, tears soaking her cheeks, Isana stilled in submission. It was then that the man lessened his hold on her and withdrew enough that she could breathe.

The cacophony of shouts, cheers and jeers was overwhelming and the young Castacean fought to block it out. One hand held it's grip on her hair, but the Commander actually caressed one of her cheeks as if she were willing in all this. "I won't harm you if you cooperate...otherwise you may find yourself at the mercy of those beasts," he muttered low. Isana's eyes shifted from hatred to a desperate, silent plea. "Then do as I say, girl. Suck."

Closing her eyes in resignation, the would-be queen obeyed, occasionally gagging in her inexperience. She shook with tears as she felt him hardening more and more in her mouth until it felt as though she held a leather covered pike between her lips. "Use your tongue, little filly...roll it round. Better you do, the quicker this will be."

Clamping her eyes tighter, Isana did as she was bid. When she felt his hips begin to press against her lips, his hands guiding her head back and forth along his cock, the woman determined she was "doing well". The knave behind her had his thigh braced between her legs, the motion caused by the Commander's thrusts causing Isana's buttocks to rub against it. Even so small a stimulation should not have aroused her, yet it did. Unlike Captain Ewald, this Commander did not force her to remain in the moment, force her to know that it was him. This small mercy afforded her the opportunity to disassociate to another place and time.

In her mind it was Eulos she knelt before, a willing servant to his pleasure. Behind her was not the knave, but the mysterious man who had taken pleasure in looking at her rather than touching or mounting her. As this fantasy took shape in her mind, the misery of truth slipped away and she was able to find a genuine pleasure in her actions. The shouting around her muffled into nonsensical noise and Isana fed off the indications of pleasure uttered by the Commander, the motions of his body, each tug on her hair.

Eulos, she kept telling herself, envisioned and in doing so her body took control as though she were trained in fellatio by a master. As he pushed into her, Isana learned to open her throat. It had taken several times gagging before her body reacted in self-protection. Once she had, his pleasure and hers multiplied. The young royal could feel her loins tightening with heat and need. 

A moan of desire hummed from her lips and vibrated along his root, causing the Commander's head to fall back a moment. The shouts of "Castacean whore!" elevated and the Commander looked down at her again. The tight clamp of her eyes was gone, her lashes resting lightly on her cheeks. He was no longer directing her head. Isana moved along his shaft on her own, tilting her head left and right as she lavished him with kisses he was certain were meant for another.

Suddenly struck with the strength she had to drown the insult of this in a self-serving fantasy. They were attempting to debase her, reduce her to meat for the pleasure of seeing a Castacean Queen kneel at the feet of a Sibiline, yet this young woman had taken control and made the pleasure her own. A lesser man might smack her back into reality, but Commander Hrodulf would not be that man. Instead he tightened his grasp in her hair and gave the impression to their watchers that was using her as was their want. As he watched her, however, every slide of her lips along his veined appendage grew more arousing, each curl of her tongue around his glans.

Isana had found the initial penetration vulgar. The scent of his sweat different, almost yeasty at his groin compared to the sharp acrid musk of underarm sweat. Her immediate dislike of it began to ebb and the tickle of his wiry pubic hairs in her nose no longer appalled her. The soft grunts of approval he made when she swallowed enough of him to feel that tickle, motivated her to continue doing so. Eulos, her mind fixated which only made the salt of his skin turn sweet. The light brushing of the knave's thigh against her inner thighs elevated her desire to be touched, for that shadow prince to finally bring his hands to rest on her.

A sudden rigidness in his shaft and Isana felt the man's hand grip the back of her head, pulling it against him until she nearly gagged again. Unable to pull away she slammed back into reality with the realization of what was about to happen. The impending ejaculation was not something a woman should...swallow! Her mind screamed for release, not from sexual tension, but from the Commander's grip. Then freedom was ripped from her as he groaned loudly and spewed the hot cream of his loins deep into her throat. So tightly he held her to him that she could scarcely breathe. Not swallowing would surely suffocate her. Isana clamped her eyes shut again, fresh tears stinging before streaming over her cheeks and making fresh lines in the dirt there.

"That's it, girl...take it all in," he murmured, his fingers burrowed deep in her hair and stroking at the nape of her neck. Hrodulf continued to pump against her mouth until the last of his seed had filled her gullet. A thick string of saliva and cum stretched from his tip to her lips until he stepped back and tucked himself away. The tension of the strand broke and it swung back to hang from her mouth before clinging to her chin.

The knave removed the blade from her throat and stepped back, releasing her again. Isana, although relieved it was over, sank back on her heels and hung her head in shame at what she had just done--not by force...pleasure could not be forced on someone.

While the Commander accepted his applause then gave orders to his underlings, the knave pulled Isana to her feet by her bound arms, a rather painful experience that left her shoulders aching. With a wave of his hand, the Commander directed the knave toward two tents at the far end of the camp. One was rather large and made of what looked to be very expensive fabrics. The other was much smaller although nicer than the soldier's barracks set up at this end of the camp.

She wasn't marched into the large tent to kneel before their Bajan, he had not yet arrived from...wherever. Instead the two men pushed her into the Commander's tent and onto a pile of furs. The knave unbound her arms and moved them to tie her wrists before her, much less tightly than she'd been trussed wrist-to-elbow by Captain Ewald's men. Immediately she stretched to lessen the pain in her shoulders. Isana watched the Commander build a fire as the knave did this, his focus entirely on it's construction as if the young woman and his servant did not exist. When he was finished, Hrodulf draped a warm leather cloak about her, the collar of fur, then shooed the knave out.

Silent for only a moment, Isana watched him as he began to heat a kettle of water over the fire. Finally she spat, "and I suppose you will use me as you please now--perhaps give each of your men a turn on me..."

"Do you want me to?" he asked simply as he poured the heated water into two tea cups. After handing her one cup, he sat with his own before her, then reached over and took a biscuit from his rucksack. "You must be hungry."

Isana accepted it but lowered her head and avoided his eyes as she ate and drank. Poison, of course, was a needless fear. The man would hardly do such a thing when his leader was travelling to meet her, and when she was better bartered back to the Castaceans or Actovans. Only when she was nearly finished with the biscuit did she force out a muffled "thank you."

Having watched her eat and drink, Hrodulf chuckled and before sipping at his own tea replied, "you are welcome, Highness." 

"You are rather polite for a rapist," Isana accused.

Arching a brow, the man, at least Eulos' age turned his head to eye her with scrutiny. "Perhaps at first it was rape...but you seemed to find your own gratification in it."

Isana's face blazoned crimson as the most fiery sunset. Attempting to shrink down into the cloak she looked away. Hrodulf found her reaction amusing. "There is no shame in it. I find it admirable."

"Admirable?!" the young woman balked. "That I played the whore just as you filthy Sibilines marked me?"

"Filthy?" he scoffed with a smile, more charmed by her insults than wounded. Scrubbing at his chin he noted, "yes I suppose a bath and a shave are overdue. BOOTS!"

The shout startled her, but she realized his intention when the knave reappeared. "Boots," he instructed. "bring me a cauldron of bathwater and a cake of soak."

The youth nodded and was gone. Isana blinked after him then looked to Hrodulf who smiled and continued to explain to her his admiration. "You would not be the first to have knelt or been bent before that army of 'filthy Sibilines.' It is a barbaric tradition, I agree...but better one humiliation than to be tossed to them like meat to wolves."

Isana's face paled and her mouth hung wide. "You would justify one horror by threatening another?"

Hrodulf laughed heartily, "of course not. I am a man, not a monster. I can not imagine any man or woman I would subject to that torture. In fact I am quite displeased with Captain Ewald for what he has done. You should be comforted to know that I have had him punished accordingly."

The young woman looked skeptical, but Hrodulf bowed his head. "There were lashes and a it will be mentioned to the Bajan."

"And your crime?" 

The man shrugged, "feel free to tell him when he arrives tomorrow."

Disgusted by his cavalier attitude, Isana set her emptied cup aside and turned her back to him. Hrodulf only smirked then waved Boots in with the bathwater. "I want no interruptions. No one is to disturb me tonight unless the Bajan arrives early or we are discovered."

The youth said nothing, only bowing and leaving. Isana glared at Hrodulf over her shoulder. "Does he not speak?"

"No," Hrodulf shook his head. The man seemed stricken with a sudden sadness as he turned his back and began to strip of his clothes. "Boots is my sister's son. She and her husband were farmers. He was very young when he witnessed them murdered, quite brutally by Castacean brigands. He's not spoken since."

"Castacean? No...my people do not believe in violence without cause. We only engage in war when it is to protect ourselves, and a Castacean would never attack helpless farmers." Isana shook her head in genuine horror.

Hrodulf smirked with a quite snort of amusement. "You are far more naive than I thought, Isana Whitespear." Turning to look at her, no longer dressed, the Commander knelt beside the steaming cauldron of water. "Do you truly know so little of your father's acts as King?"

Shaking her head, Isana defied him. "No. My father would never condone such a thing--if he had I would know. Eulos would have told me."

"Eulos..?" Hrodulf's eyes narrowed. "Eulos Estimus?" The girl's instant stiffness confirmed his suspicion. "Oh...we were young then, but I remember that Legionnaire." There was no love in his voice, nearly pure hatred. "Praetorian," he scoffed. "A savage like him does not deserve the honor of a title such as that." Straightening he exposed his side which was scarred with a gnarled slice from chest to waist and pierced again with what must have been a broad sword.

"You fought him," Isana surmised. "But he did not kill you."

"Not for lack of effort. I was left for dead. Should we meet again I would not make such a mistake with him." 

The young woman pointed out, "you are soldiers. Is that not your goal as well...had the circumstances been reversed? Eulos is no savage. Whatever he did, he had good cause."

Without answering, Hrodulf flared his nostrils in anger and pointed for her to come to his side. When Isana only stared at him, he rose, tossed the cloak off of her and pulled her over. Putting the sponge and cake of soap in her bound hands he growled, "bathe me, Castacean. Gently."

Isana had pierced to close to his pride. If she had merely indicated that he was obviously not as skilled a warrior as Eulos, his reaction could not have been more clear unless he chose to beat her for it. Bathing him was a preferable option to a beating.




Whispered Rites of Sacrifice Ch. 04



Soaping the sponge, she watched him with anger. This was just another attempt to demean her, making her serve him like a slave. Isana avoided scrubbing anywhere below his waist. As she reached to rinse the sponge her caught her wrist and jerked her hands toward his groin. "You've not finished." His thick Sibiline accent made the stern tone of his voice more threatening.

Refusing to shed any more tears for him, Isana merely set her jaw and pursed her lips tightly. If he took any sexual pleasure from subjugating her, it was not evident to her view. He had risen to his feet leaving her, once again, kneeling at his feet as she lathered his legs, groin and buttocks. Finally she was allowed to rinse the sponge. Stepping up to stand, she began to rinse him from the neck and shoulders downward. Hrodulf neither looked at her, nor assisted in any fashion other than to raise his arms when she came to them. When she had finished, the woman dropped the sponge into the cauldron and rose. "A drying cloth?"

"Kneel," he ignored her question. Isana shivered, afraid of his intentions. With unstable knees she lowered to the blanketed floor of his tent,nearly losing her balance without her hands free. Upright on her knees, Isana kept her eyes low awaiting more defilement. Hrodulf circled her suddenly kneeling behind her. The splash of water echoed by the tinkling drops as he withdrew the sponge from the depths seemed surreal to her. Was this Sibiline intending to bathe her, his prisoner and enemy?

The first droplets of warm water on her shoulders were startling, but as he gently lathered her body, she felt her tension melt until she felt...almost safe from harm. Isana, though young, was too wise to think herself truly free from potential harm. The man's hands were so delicate as to be tender. A husband might bathe his wife with such loving care. Circling to face her, he took great care to daub at her face without getting soap in her eyes or mouth. His lips lowered near her ear as his hand then slid between her thighs to lather the last of her flesh. "I am a clean Sibiline now...am I still so detestable?"

Turning her head away, Isana gave no answer. The man only smiled and rinsed the sponge before beginning to rinse her, never having demanded she stand. carefully swiping at her face first, Hrodulf then squeezed warm water over her shoulders and across her chest watching the rivulets as they gently pushed the suds to glide over olive tan skin and around small light brown areolaes. One hand brushed over one of these areolae coaxing the nipple to show itself. With a faint gasp, Isana recoiled from him, sitting back onto her heels.

Hrodulf smiled at her but only continued to cleanse the soap from her skin before it would dry and itch. He made no further efforts to enjoy her body, not even when he brought the sponge to her fleshy Castacean lily. Once she was clean he dropped the sponge then collected his breast plate and propped it against the cauldron. "Lean back," he pointed, indicating it was to be likened to a chair.

Wary but silent, Isana obeyed and did not fight when he gently took her head and tilted it back until her hair fell into the water. The feeling was wonderful. Ewald's men had crudely left their cum on her back, which her hair collected almost greedily causing it to stick to her and to collect more detritis and dirt. With meticulous care, Hrodulf soaped and rinsed her hair. Isana was surprised when he also carefully worked a small bit of olive oil through it. After ringing her hair dry he pointed at the mound of blankets and furs that she assumed was his bed. "Lay there," he instructed.

Now it was to come, she thought again, certain that any moment he was going to put aside his gentility and force himself on her as Ewald had. Instead she lay on his bedding watching as the man applied the oils to his face then with great care shaved his beard off. Isana was baffled by this. The bathing she understood, but why shave on the word of a captive? The man neither looked to her for approval, nor acknowledged that she was still present. As he finished and splashed his face, Isana could see that he was not ugly. Imposing and intimidating, yes, but not ugly. He had the gruff, stern features of a soldier not unlike her father had and Eulos.

Drying his face on a stray tunic, Hrodulf then tossed it back amongst his discarded clothes. He walked toward Isana causing her to whimper and pull back in an attempt to shrink int the fur and away from reach. Not meeting her eyes he crouched over her, taking her hands and working the knot free on her hands. The girl blinked at him. "I do not understand Sibiline..."

"You wish to remain tied?" He asked meeting her eyes sternly. "You've no place to go, girl. My tent is as guarded as the Bajan's when he is not present. You could not get two feet outside any corner of this tent without being in the hands of a Sibiline soldier...and then I cannot help what happens to you."

Isana paled at the repeat of his thinly veiled threat. Tossing the rope off to one side, he then planted a hand on the furs and leaned over her. "Now...I can be civilized and leave you to sleep here in my bed in the comfort that I am certain a Queen is accustomed, and not lay a hand on you." His eyes pierced through her like rondel daggers. "Or...you can call me Sibiline again with the distaste of an Aristocrat spitting on a gutter dog...and I will be as uncivilized as any one of my soldiers."

The young woman's expression spoke all the answers he needed. "Now sleep. The Bajan comes early." She was rubbing at her sore wrists and he snagged one to stop her. "I have a salve."

Rising again he retrieved a small wooden cup. The lid was ornately carved and it's waxy contents smelled thickly of spices. Sitting beside her again, Hrodulf massaged the oily paste into her skin. Attempting to keep him happy and disinclined to raping her, Isana whispered, "it smells good."

"Many of our women use it as a perfume as well as it's healing properties." The soldier spoke the fact without any emotion. When he released her, Hrodulf set the box beside her then unceremoniously lay back and closed his eyes. "Sleep."

Isana stared at him a moment, still completely baffled by his oscillation between tormentor and compassionate captor. Slowly she lowered back onto the furs and rolled, putting her back to him. 

There was only the sound of the soldiers riotous laughing and an echo of fall bugs well beyond the tent. Hrodulf took note that he heard no sounds of weeping from Isana. At first he thought perhaps she was too exhausted and had simply passed out, but her breath was not even enough. His second theory was that she was waiting to hear him sleeping to try and escape, but the Commander was certain she was too smart for that. The man had not spoken falsely. If she tried to flee, those guarding his tent would take her and if he was not awakened by it...there would be no saving her from a truly grueling fate.

- - - -

Eulos had been granted a scouting party and a squad of Actovan soldiers to hunt for the missing Isana. The Actovan regents were terrified that harm had come to the Castacean queen as her people were far more militarily strong. One word of abduction or assassination from Eulos to the standing government of Isana's kingdom and Actova would be razed to the ground by dawn. 

In spite of the woman's note to him, Eulos was uncomfortable with her wandering off as she had. The bull-headed girl was far too trusting and thought herself invincible. Upon a thorough search of the city, he quickly determined that she wasn't there. Panic nearly disabled his soldier's calm, crippled his instinct and training. He had questioned more than two dozen people on the streets of the markets and at the Temple. All who reported seeing her-- a well recognized figure-- indicated that she had been in the presence of a group of girls. Mostly blondes but led by a striking red head. Finally three people gave him names. Ryca and Gelosi. Women with unfavorable reputations.

With the desperation of a man and the fury of guardian, Eulos had roused the Actovan centurions and hunted the girls down, only to find them sitting about in the square drinking nectar and giggling without a care. The very sight enraged him that he had to stand back lest he wound them.

Dragged to the Royal hall and questioned before the Maithuna's, Ryca was stoic and cold-- a clear indication to Eulos that she had some part in the Queen's disappearance. The weaker girl, Gelosi, crumpled into tears but wouldn't say anything more than that they had left her at the ancient shrine. Eulos struggled not to scream, it was not for him to interrogate them. Nevertheless his heart and mind was ranting, why?! What reason could you have to be so cruel?!

Prince Arao was the first to respond with an act that shocked everyone, even Eulos. His hand shot out and he smacked Ryca with a sharpness that nearly knocked her from her feet. Pointing at the guards he spat, "take them both to Ebony Tower. If Isana dies...so does she."

Ryca let out a panicked shriek and tried to flee as the guards closed in on her. The harsh break from her stoicism would have been heart-rending were it not so obvious her crimes. "I know where she is!!" she pleaded in an elevated octave.

"She sold her to the Sibilines!" Gelosi blurted to save her own skin. 

The hall fell silent with a chill as all eyes shifted from Gelosi and fell onto the accused red-head.

Ryca gaped at her in horror, the wording alone was a death sentence. Not caring, Gelosi, on her knees, sobbed and confessed, "they...they did such awful things to her! So many of them, again and--" Gelosi stopped to sob a moment and hanging her head in shame. "We could see...we watched from the Garden eaves. watched them use her where Ryca left her chained."

Eulos' knees felt weak, and his stomach had tightened as his heart stopped. All that had happened since coming to Actova had been against his morals, but it had all been by Isana's consent. All but, to his shame, the initiations of the previous nights lovemaking. To hear that she'd been chained and raped like a slave-- The man felt ill and was struggling to remain silent, to remain calm enough to think clearly.

Ryca shook her head, "that was never the arrangement!" 

Wailing she fell to her knees and begged Arao, who refused to even look at her. "They weren't supposed to hurt her-- just hold her for a while. Scare her into surrendering Castacea. I did it to save Actova from a war!! She's a child! Hardly old enough to be a Queen!"

"YOU ARE ONLY A YEAR HER ELDER, RYCA! WHAT DID YOU THINK THEY WOULD DO TO HER?!" it was the King screaming at her now. "Get them both out of my sight. Your trial will be at dawn...and Ryca Renae...your execution will follow shortly after I swear it."

Eulos had remained silent throughout the exchange, but the moment they were gone he looked away from the others, trying to disguise the emotion welling in him. As the room remained silent out of respect for his pain. Finally he turned to the King and Queen and pleaded for the resources to find her. "Scouts, soldiers...anything you can lend for me to find her. Castacean aid would take too long-- already we have lost hours." Although he tried to remain stoic his voice weakened when he added, "Please...I beg of you."

Without word the Prince had stalked away. It not being his place to call the Prince out for his choices, Eulos said nothing when the younger man made no offer to assist, cowardly as he thought it was. The monarchs watched their son go, recognizing something in him that they did not share. With a mere nod, Queen Rainne agreed, then swiftly followed after her son. King Tellam was the one who spoke, "whatever you need." 

After being taken to the shrine, knowing that the Sibilines had at least six hours advantage on them, Eulos growled at the scouts, "into the trees...but which way?" 

They found only enough of a trail to lead them in a direction before dusk began to blanket them in darkness. Even the keenest eyed scouts could not tell a footprint from a shadow.

"Sir, we have to stop," the scout named Yestin insisted. "We simply cannot see anything in the dark and torches will only alert them to our position. They may have left archers or assassins behind."

The elder Castacean Praetorian threw his gloves angrily at the ground and muttered the most vulgar of Castacean curses. Yestin was patient then softly asked, "shall we make camp, sir?"

They were only two miles into the woods beyond the shrine. With a disgusted wave of his hand, Eulos looked away and scrubbed a hand over his face. As he hunkered down and raked at his hair with his hands, one of the soldiers approached. "If I may, sir...the Sibilines will not have killed her. If that was their intent, she'd have been left at the shrine tied and bled out as Florynia had been. That is their perverse way."

Eulos glowered up at the man, an unreadable torrent of emotion in his glossy eyes. The soldier gestured that he meant no harm and joined the others clustered a short distance away. Most were afraid of the large Castacean Praetorian, though not for his size. The Castaceans approached their combat skills just as they pursued science or math, with great study and pride in perfection. To be the guard of the Queen, surely meant that Eulos Estimus was the best. No one was certain if mentioning that the Prince's own tracking and combat skills were honed enough he may find her before them was a wise idea. If the man's anger and discomfort at the Floryynias had been only Castacean modesty and pride, it was evident now that there was far more to Eulos' protectiveness...and not one of them would mention it to their unit leader Yestin first.

- - - -

Hours passed and both found sleep, Isana's less peaceful than Hrodulf's. When nightmares caused her to shudder and whine in her sleep, Hrodulf rolled over in wakefulness and gently stilled her with a soothing hush at her ear and a light hand upon her hair and shoulder. As she stilled, he slid his arm about her waist and held to her a while in comfort. The weight of sleep began to tug at his eyes, slowing his own breath only to banish quickly as he felt the warm body beside him writher with a soft moan.

Lifting his head, brows knit he looked down at the girl. After the last day she was having an erotic dream? The fingertips of one hand rest lightly on her bottom lip, mouth parted in mild ecstasy. A faint smile played on Hrodulf's mouth. It was an enticing thing to see, this nubile girl quivering in a paradise of her own making. The man wondered what form her carnal desires took in her mind, if they be the Actovan prince she was rumored to be marrying, perhaps some secret lover from Castacea...or bawdier yet, one of the Sibilines that had ravished her.

The woman's body pressed back against him, pleading and wanton as she moaned again. "Yuu...." she gasped, the syllable possibly addressing someone in her dream, or part of some unfinished word. "Yuu..." her breath carried the sound to him as her soft, smooth hips pressed back against him. Try as he might, Hrodulf was not impervious to the sensual stimulation. Pushing her away or turning away would be the only way to have lessened or stopped his arousal, but even then watching her squirm in his bed was more than any man needed to inspire him.

"...Eulos..." the syllable finally took form. She was dreaming about Eulos?!

Although Hrodulf was an even tempered man, for a soldier that is, the very hint of that man made his blood boil. There was so much more to his hatred of the man than just their uniforms. The coward was a traitor to his own kind, a Sibiline bastard child that chose some perverse 'moral high ground' by seeking out his mother's people after his father had killed her and taken a proper Sibiline wife. By blood Hrodulf and Eulos were of the same clan, but Hrodulf would sooner die than claim kinship to the traitorous waste of good Sibiline sperm.

As Isana ground against him again, moaning out Eulos' name again in the darkness, a black hatred gripped Hrodulf. He wanted to see the look of disgust on Eulos' face when he learned that he not only failed to protect his queen...but that she had bed his enemy. Willingly.

Taking her hip in his hand he met her undulations with his own. Murmuring in her ear, Hrodulf asked, "do you want me, Isana?"

The young woman showed no sign of waking, but replied, "mmm...yes..."

With a hungry smile there in the dark, Hrodulf slipped a hand between her thighs and gently raised her upper leg. Understanding his prompt, whether still asleep or in a state of half-wakefulness, Isana propped her knee high, her toes braced on the furs. Sliding his hand upward along her thigh, he gingerly pet the soft, smooth skin of her vulva. One finger sank into her slit and the moisture there instantly aroused him. Guiding himself into her, the guttural moan she uttered fueled the carnal and vengeful desires in him. Gripping her hips he thrust deeply into her, Isana's voice raising in elation not pain or wakeful confusion.

Although she pushed back to meet him, his need to truly own her if only to insult Eulos was not being sated. Unaware of the irony, he pulled her up to her knees. He could tell by her movements that she was awake now, but she made no move to fight him. As Hrodulf plunge into her again she cried out with wanton delight. The man's ego needed no stroking and in spite of the abuse suffered her, Isana's depths were tight, gripping him as though to milk him dry. Bent over her, the Sibiline soldier cupped her breast finding it already hardened to a firm nub. Resting his cheek to her back he growled low like an animal, never imagining that this small woman-child was so passionate a lover.

"Like before, Eulos..." she whispered through the shadow of the tent. "Take me as before..."

"Before..?" Hrodulf whispered, hoping his accent would not be so obvious. He felt her hand cover his and remove it from her breast. She brought it back to her buttock cheek and with a lack of coordination directed it toward her anus, lifting her hips in presentation. "You want me to..." he could think of no 'Castacean-like' terms for what she was asking. There was no telling what Eulos had called it if it was he that had introduced her to sodomy. Instead he circled the taut portal with his thumb and whispered, "...here?"

Isana's moan and push back toward him was more answer than he'd expected. She showed no trepidation and Hrodulf's testosterone surged. Even the renowned whores of Sibil sometimes had to be forced or coaxed into such acts. Reaching over he lifted the salve pot he'd left nearby. It wasn't much lubricant, but her body was supplying enough to assist. Continuing to ply her peach with his engorged cock, Hrodulf eagerly applied the salve. This was more than he could have hoped for. To have Isana willingly fuck him was revenge enough, but that the young queen was begging him to sodomize her was enough to make the man want to giggle maniacally.

Even as his fingers smeared the oily salve onto her puckered hole, Isana was moaning and angling back with small desperate whines. Plunging a finger into her first, he was surprised that she barely groaned at the over excited entry and that she so quickly relaxed and opened herself to him. Wasting no more time, Hrodulf withdrew from her sopping cunt and introduced his well lubricated rod. An orgasmic moan from Isana and a gasping encouragement drove the man deeper into her. 

Although she was still aching from Ewald's assault, Isana was lost in this moment, logic not yet having alerted her to the fact that this could not possibly be Eulos. Hrodulf impaled her only to draw back slowly then bear down again. Both his hands gripped her hips tightly, keeping her balanced and lifting her at the hips so she needn't support so much of her own weight, but he was not stimulating her as before. Wanting that dual sensation, Isana hugged some of the furs up and supported herself on one forearm as she snaked her other hand beneath her.




Whispered Rites of Sacrifice Ch. 04



"Oh gods yes," Hrodulf growled in exaltation as he felt her fingers glide around the base of his shaft ever so briefly before fleeing to dip into the burrow of her own pink. He reached around a moment to feel her hand as it moved over her own instrument, like a harpist. "That's it..." he whispered huskily. "Take us there, Isana..."

The young woman was crying out before Hrodulf felt he could no longer contain himself, which meant he could continue. Holding firm on her hips even as her voice cracked as she screamed, the large man pumped into her like a great piston feeling her muscles spasm and dance around him as he did. After every wave of orgasm, just when he thought her body exhausted, another riot of intoxication would jolt through her, clenching down on him. Not releasing until she was grasping at the furs and uttering sounds closer to pain than euphoria, Hrodulf demanded, "do you want me?"

"Yes..!"

"You wanted this, didn't you...?"

"Yes! Ffffuck yes!"

At her word, Hrodulf slammed her back onto him and arched his back, letting out a bestial roar as he unloaded into her. Isana felt his hot milk flood her, a sensation that had pleased her before. The man behind her massaged her derriere with firm hands while he far more delicately undulated against her, unwilling yet to part. Writhing beneath him she hummed with the post-coital bliss. Eventually he withdrew, but when Isana moved to lower her hips he caught her and hissed, "no...not yet..."

Uncertain what he was doing, she lingered until she began to feel the trickle of his seed as it escaped her posterior vault. Although he seemed to only watch this with pride, Isana felt his teeth as he lightly bit her ass cheek. He straightened and smacked her other cheek with playfulness. "You are full of surprises," he chuckled.

Isana bolted to a sit, whipping to gape at him. "You--"

"Eulos?" Hrodulf smiled, far too satisfied to be ashamed of his nefarious deception. He moved to the fire coals and added some kindling to revitalize the orange cinders back to flame. "No...but my, my if he is not an unjustly lucky man."

In the light of the fire and the revelation, the woman convulsed as if she might vomit. Hrodulf moved to her quickly, "no, no...now no cause for that." 

Recoiling from him as though her lover had just been revealed to be a six-headed snake man, Isana immediately sobbed. "Y-you deceived me...!"

"You let yourself be deceived," he retorted. "What intelligent human being would wake and, even in the dark, imagine for one instant that their lover were in their own prison? Perhaps your heat began in a dream but by the Gods, the Sisters of the Sibil Empirical city do not fuck like you do!"

Isana's eyes widened and her hand shot out, smacking him with a force that surprised them both. Snatching her hand after, Hrodulf threw her to her back on his furs and pinioned her with his body. His lips only a breath away from her he bared his teeth and seethed. "I could hold you down and fill you with so much cum you'll be tasting it. So do not think, for one instant, that you've paid some toll to me. You are at my mercy until dawn, your Highness."

"Why...?" she hissed. "Why not just take me before we slept? Why now..?"

One hand gripped her hair, holding her head back against the furs as he looked her over. "You moaned his name. You said his name as though he were a God in your eyes. Eulos has no right to anything so perfect as this body...and were I to have raped you, it would do nothing to tarnish you in his eyes. It would be no insult to him only more fuel for his already raging ire for his own kind. No...no, Queen Isana...Eulos has to know that you wanted it. That you begged for it. That you enjoyed it and that you came, again and again."

Sobbing, Isana tried to turn her head, but he wouldn't let her. The 'Noes' blubbering from her lips became mostly unintelligible sounds as her self loathing reached an apex. Hrodulf gripped her jaw beneath her chin and forced her face to his, "look at me." She clamped her eyes tighter. "LOOK. AT. ME!" he roared.

The woman peeled her eyes open with a full body shudder. Glaring down into her abysmal eyes, Hrodulf's jaw rippled with pent up emotion. "I wronged you...to punish Eulos. The sin is his--like all those past." His eyes glimmered with amusement although he sneered. "You admire and love a coward and a feral animal." 

Curling his fingers in her hair he whispered as if telling her a bedtime story. "His mother was a whore...Castacean, lovely yes, but bent her knees and swayed her back for any man would have her. Vespa Estimus was as much Jonn Gaelstrom's woman as any outsider could be. By Sibiline law he could not marry her without the Clan Chief's consent...but they were married all the same and that harlot took child with another man's seed. Jonn had every right by Sibiline law to do what he had done...every right to take a true, proper bride and had Eulos bowed his head and respected our laws, he'd have been brother to the clan Weohstan. Our Champion...not that you Castaceans would value such a thing."

Isana tried to pull away, but he gripped her hair and jerked her back to face him. "Your poltroon lover did not even challenge his father for the insult of his mother's and unborn sibling's death. He crawled like a weakling into their bedroom and slit their throats as they slept. Your brave Praetorian skulked under cover of darkness and killed a good man-- a better man than he could ever be. I volunteered to help hunt him down. I was barely a man shaving, but I ran beside the Weohstan and had I the chance to do it again, I'd have bled him like the swine he is rather than confront him with far more honor than he deserves." 

"You're insane," she whispered at him. None of this could be true. Eulos would have told her were he half Sibiline, if his past was so shadowed as to endanger her. Hrodulf was saying this to frighten her, no more. It was this man who was the coward, terrifying a woman to bolster his ego, to justify his hatred of another.

The insult enraged him, or perhaps it was the contempt he saw in her eyes that he had banished and now, in his arrogance earned. Forcing her knees apart he made himself every bit the enemy she had assume he was. Without restrain her smacked her face to shift contempt into fear. Rather than screaming or fighting him, however, Isana merely turned her head and stared at the flickering firelight on the tent walls. Hrodulf was not gentle. He didn't care if she was still slick enough that his entry would not tear her. The man took no care not to bruise her hips or wrists as he held her down and battered her with his cock.

Isana simply did not care.