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Sacrifice

By: EDSpencer



Cold rock pressed against the soft flesh of her back, though she hadn't come to the realization as of yet. Still dizzy from whatever had hit her from behind that had promptly knocked her unconscious, she had her eyes closed. It took a moment or two for her eyes to open, but even then she remained in some sort of haze. All she could make out were dark splotches with slivers of white light peaking through. Eventually all came into focus. The woods. That's where she was. 

Panic rose through Abigail. How had she gotten here? This made no sense to her. Just a few hours ago, she had been walking the dirt road of the small village, despite warnings. It seemed each Halloween, a young woman disappeared, never to be seen again. Always the purest of women, virginal--unwed, but of age. 

She, in fact, was heading to church to pray for the souls of the villagers attending the Halloween feast, in the center in town. Abigail considered them heathens and hoped God would find their way into their hearts to stop this disgusting sacrilege. They danced around a bon fire, dressed as demons and ghosts, witches and man-beasts. It was a communion with the devil himself. They called her a prude for not joining in.

On her way, the street seemed suddenly cool. The wind whipped across her skin harshly, forcing her to bundle herself in her warm, wool sweater. Everything was calm and quiet, except the festivities of the Halloween feast could be heard in the distance. Abigail shuddered as her face curled in disgust.

Then suddenly, she felt a pain at the back of her head. Before she could turn, before she could even think, she saw the world becoming darker. Her body started to fall to the ground . . . 

...And now, she was here, in the woods. She looked around herself, only to be shocked by what she saw. She was on a slab of rock a few feet off the ground. Her unclothed body lay there, bound to the table for the world to see, but luckily only the sky and moon were watching. She pulled at her hands above her head, only to meet resistance. The chain links chimed and scraped against the cold rock.

She wanted to cry out, to scream, but the embarrassment of her spread legs and naked body kept her mouth shut. The only sounds she made were soft, anguished whimpers. Cool wind whipped around her body, playing at her breasts. She shivered from the cold--all too exposed. Goose-bumps spread over her body. Her soft pink nipples began to harden under the night air's touch. A flush tainted her overly pale skin. Her body's reaction appalled her.

It seemed she stayed like this an eternity. The moon continued to beat down on her skin with its silver light. She prayed a cloud would pass and stay to block out the light. At least she wouldn't be able to see her body, but she hadn't been so lucky.

Her eyes gazed off into the woods when she thought she heard a sound. It sounded like a twig breaking. Embarrassment swelled within her even more at the thought of some man walking into the woods and finding her like this.

But it was no man. A hulking figure stood in the woods, hidden by shadows. Red eyes stared at Abigail from the creature as it slowly moved closer. She struggled with her chains, whimpering with fear to no avail. 

"S-stay back!" she said with a fear filled voice.

The creature continued to walk closer until it walked in the moonlight. Abigail's eyes went wide as she took in the sight. It was large, indeed. Muscular and very male, but not human. His large red eyes glowed down at her as he came closer. Her own eyes surveyed. His skin was red as fire, tight with over the muscles of his large frame. His long black hair whipped around his body with the wind as it blew over them both with a soft howl. However, what caught her attention the most were his horns, sitting proudly on the top of his forehead, jutting out an oddly beautiful, yet terrifying face.

'It's the devil' she thought, shaking with fear, 'May the good Lord rescue me. I've been a good and faithful servant . . . '

The creature seemed to smirk at her as though he could hear her thoughts. The smirk turned to a lewd grin as the male thing stared at her body. The impure thoughts showed themselves in those glowing eyes.

He reached out a clawed hand at her, the dark pointing nails gently touched her hair, releasing it from its tight bound. Her long dark hair cascaded and spilled over his massive hand. He bent slightly then yanked her hair to his nose where he took a long smell, snorting his hot breath on her forehead. 

Abigail trembled and tried to move her head enough to pull away from him. The massive being made a distinctly angry noise with a hiss. His hand reached for her face, grabbing it roughly. Abigail in turn, cried from the pain of his sharp claws digging into her soft flesh. He looked down at her, eyes narrowed. He sniffed at her. Then moved down her body, sniffing her deeply, but not touching. Abigail thought she might die of mortification when he reached the place between her opened legs. When she attempted to place her knees together, the creature yanked them apart roughly, giving her an irritated snort.

His face dipped lower in, taking long deep whiffs of her womanhood. Low grunts rumbled in the beasts' throat as she smelled her. Hungry sounds. He stayed there far too long, sniffing and groaning. To make matters worse, the hot air on her opened folds caused her to tingle. The sickening tingle brought tears to her eyes. It was a sensation she'd never experienced before, and she loathed that her body would betray her by somehow enjoying this!

The beast's hands stroked her inner thighs with deliberate gentleness. Up and down, up and down, using the fine tips of the black claws to tease her flesh. Abigail's breath caught as more tingling followed in the claw's wake. The feeling moved into her center, making her feel warm and moist. What was going on here? She had no idea. No one had ever touched her like this before. 

"Lord, give me strength . . . " she whimpered out loud. The beast grunted. It almost sounded like a laugh.

He pulled his face back after giving her another long smell, then moved up her body. His hand smoothly ran along her stomach, causing the already present goose bumps to multiply. When he came to the pillowy mound, his massive hand grasped it. He clutched it tight between his fingers, squeezing it. Abigail yelped in pain, but the creature just stared at it in fascination. He lifted it, watched it move and flex beneath his fingers. After his hands finally pulled away, the mound returned to its spot with only red imprints as a reminder of the abuse her flesh just suffered.

His attention focused on the untouched breast. He moved to grasp it which caused Abigail to cry in misery. This time, he cupped her with a tender touch. His claws traced the pale white orb with his tips, tracing it from the beginning to the pink tip erect from cold. The beast's mouth moved to it, taking the nipple in with a hungry suckle. Abigail's breath hitched as she whimpered. It was so hot and wet, a distinct contrast the other breast suffered in the cold-dry October air. The thing sucked and teased the nipple in the hot heat. It felt good. She hated how much. The heat in between her legs mimicked the heat on her skin. All of her tingled because of it.

"Please . . . have mercy. Don't do this to me. Please!" she begged. The beast ignored her and continued.

As he feasted on her breast, one of those clawed hands moved down her body. A single, massive finger traced down her stomach, to her thighs. A moment later that same finger moved to the soft silk of her inner thigh, creating that horrific and wonderful sensation. Slowly, the finger moved upward, upward, upward, until it reached the lips of her vagina.

"No! Don't touch me there!" she cried out

That was sinful territory. Even she never touched herself there. When she washed, she dabbed a few times, then let it be. How dare this monster attempt to do this horrific act?

The beast clamped down on her nipple roughly, with enough force to break the skin. Abigail cried pathetically as he went back to sucking that breast after treating it so disrespectfully. It didn't take her long to realize that this was punishment for wanted to keep him from taking away some of her innocence.

So, she laid still, a sobbing mess, as this thing gently ran its sausage sized finger along her opening. The skin rubbed against her, barely touching what lie between the moistened lips. The feeling it caused made her body jerk, which made the beast grunted with satisfaction. His finger dipped in further and more boldly. The slickness inside helped his finger glide with ease over the tiny nub. Each brush of it made her gasp. She tried to pull her legs together, but it was of no use. The rest of his fingers held her open for him as he touched her.

Her breath came faster while her eyes shut. She tried to think of the Lord while this Devil did his worst, but she couldn't ignore his actions. Her body enjoyed the feeling far too much. It was like something was building between her legs the more he stroked. Abigail shivered as it grew stronger and powerful. Waves came faster and faster, crashing together. Something inside her body became tense and taut when his attention focused squarely on the very sensitive button, the source of all of these feelings.

Abigail lost control of her body. Her arms pulled roughly on the chains, causing them to cut into her skin. Her legs widened, pushing into the finger, begging for some sort of release. Just as she thought it would find her, the beast left her throbbing button, to move his finger inside of her very wet and aching hole.

That caught her attention. No longer was she concerned with pleasure. This thing had penetrated her, ripping into her body with pain. She groaned angrily as the finger filled her. The beast seemed to laugh as he moved his face from her nipple, while she continued to cry with pain. It was too big, too round, too long, too unwelcome. Still, the hulking Devil didn't care.

His forked tongue moved down her body, seductively, but Abigail ignored it. This thing would build her up again. She was going to be in control of her body. All she had to do was to focus on the Lord and his teachings. This was a trial she had to pass to prove her loyalty and love to God. 

The beast removed his finger from her body, much to Abigail's relief. He brought the finger to his nose and smelled it with a content moan. His long tongue licked of the juices of her body with pleasured sounds. But that wasn't enough. He wanted more. More honey from the very source.

He came between her legs. Abigail looked down in horror. 

"No! No! Stop! That's . . .! Go back from where you came, Devil! Please, God, spare me this unholiness! I've been a good servant!!"

His face moved closer, sniffing and groaning. His overlarge snout like nose pressed on that hard pebble at the top her womanhood. Abigail, again, tried to bring her legs together. He snorted, turning his blazing red eyes on her again. With nearly breaking force, the beast pulled her legs apart wider than they were before. Abigail sobbed from the pain and fear.

The forked tongue reached out for her very exposed pussy, giving the entire length of it a slow teasing lick. Abigail groaned, somewhere between pleasure and shame. His face pressed into her. 

"P-p-please, d-d-don't . . . " she sobbed

The devil looked up at her, clearly angered. He snorted a few times as he clutched her legs tightly, spreading them even more. The chains around her legs scraped the rock loudly as he did. He looked back at his treat, licking his long black tongue along his lips. Then he dipped in, licking and sucking, twirling his tongue around her hard clit. Sometimes he went slow, sometimes he flicked it like a snake would. Abigail didn't feel much at first because the shame numbed her, but soon her body became awake and alive at the constant touch. Her stomach became tight as that familiar feeling began building between her legs.

The hot tongue darted quickly and Abigail couldn't silence her body's response, though she desperately wanted to. She moved her hips side to side, trying to be free of him, but soon realized that what she wanted was to guide him to the places that sent her into full body convulsions.

All her sad cries turned to those of pleasure. She couldn't contain the moans and groans longing to be free from the center of her. As his mouth took what it wanted, she cried out, begging for more. She just couldn't stop.

He brought her back to the place earlier. Something was going to happen inside of her, but she knew nothing of these things. She felt her building, building, building. Her insides got tighter as she began to shiver all over again. Any moment now, it would happen, whatever it could be.

Her thrusting body held its spot as she held her breath. The beasts long finger dipped into her hot wetness, pushing further in than before. This time though, Abigail welcomed the fullness. It felt good and natural and right. The overlarge finger slowly moved inside of her and out. Liquid ran down the space between her vagina and her rear as his finger slid the length inside of her with a quiet squishing sound that would have embarrassed her if she wasn't almost "there".

Suddenly, she pushed her legs apart wider as she moved her hips downward, forcing his finger as deep as possible. There was this tingling tightness that she didn't want to let go of, but her body had no choice. Abigail screamed out as her very first orgasm ripped through her body. Her insides sucked on his finger as spasms gripped all over her, especially around him. Her hips rose, her body quaked, her heart pounded like never before.

Despite the cold, a warm flush spread over her body as she came down from whatever that was. The devil-thing looked up at her, quite satisfied. He stood up, displaying himself to her. He was long and hard, very round. The hardness directed at her, throbbing for its own release. Abigail felt fear, but she couldn't disguise the longing in her eyes. She wanted more of what she just had. She wanted that burst of warmth between her legs . . . that moment of utter freedom.

The beast crawled on the rock, crawled over her. He snorted again once he reached her face. She could smell something sweet and tart on him, something foreign to her. Obviously the creature saw the curiosity in her big green as he let that forked tongue run across her mouth. In turn, she licked her mouth, tasting the juices of her own body. His tongue forced its way into her mouth. Abigail sucked on it in fascination, closing her eyes to savor.

While she sucked, his claw moved to her breast, gently kneading it. Abigail moaned out. Her skin was more sensitive than it had been. This also pleased the beast.

His hard cock brushed along the wet slit, causing Abigail to shiver again. Her moan, which earlier would have been sad and pathetic, was full of need and passion. She needed this. Needed that long rod between his legs to fill her.

It didn't take long for the devil to oblige. He pressed that hard length into her. Abigail cried in pain. She hadn't expected it to be so much bigger than his finger, despite the look of it. The beast, oddly sympathetic to this, sat up from her, placing his legs beneath hers for support. Her body was slightly elevated, giving her just enough to see the hardness sliding in and out. Embarrassment gripped her again, but the beast put his finger on her nub again, causing her to let it go. She groaned as the finger ran rapid circles around her clit, bringing her close to that sweet freedom.

Her hips began to move along the stiffness slowly, which caused the huge beast to growl lowly. Since she was finally ready, he met those thrusts hard while he gripped her hips. Abigail bucked underneath his strong hold.

"Yes . . . oh please . . . I want to feel it again . . . " she moaned out

The beast pumped even harder, thrusting to the very end of her. His hips rolled in circles, thrust and roll, thrust and roll. Abigail's pleas for release became louder as he did this. Faster, harder, deeper. Faster, harder, deeper. 

"Yes! Oh yes!!" she groaned then bit her lip

She could feel the massive cock throbbing deep within her heated depths. The beast's grunts met her groans as their bodies joined roughly and smoothly. Soon she that final wave of pleasure flowed through her again. Her breathing stopped as her body clasped and released the monster over and over and over again.

He, too, met his end. His body moved faster and faster for a moment, causing her to bounce in his wake. The beast leaned in further, then the rocking became irregular. One deep thrust, two shorter ones, another deep, then his head rolled back as he bellowed into the night with an inhuman howl.

The pair stayed that way for a time, breathing raggedly. In the distance, the town's bell chimed. It was almost midnight. The creature snorted once then climbed off of her. The night air suddenly felt cool again, losing the warmth of the body above her.

The beast walked over to her face, capturing some of her hair in his fist. She groaned softly as he did. His large, but softening cock hung before her, dripping in something white. Abigail blinked in wonder as she watched the liquid dripping to the rock. He pressed himself against her lips. She accepted him, taking part of the length in her mouth, sucking on him . . . tasting the mixture of herself and of him, milking the last drop.

He looked down at her, pleased by this.

"You have pleased me." He growled with a deep baritone voice

He ran a hand over the chains of her arms, releasing them from their hold. Her hand moved to the cock in her mouth, holding it firmly as she drank.

"You would make an excellent part of my collection . . . " 

Every Halloween, the villagers chose and leave a woman for him on this sacrificial slab in order to ensure peace and prosperity to those within. Should the woman give him pleasure, he'd keep her for all of time, cradled by his warmth, satisfied by his infinite lust. If not, he'd turn them lose on the world to find something more than just the small place, never to return.

Abigail seemed to wonder. This was the first time she'd ever been free. Could she go home to the life she led . . . the young, unmarried, church fairing prude? No, that was no longer enough. She loved the Lord, and always would, but she just needed more.

The beast offered a hand after freeing her legs from their bind. Abigail looked at the hand a long time. After contemplating this a little longer, she took it. As the last ring came, echoing midnight, Abigail and the Beast vanished from the woods. The village would have another year of peace, and Abigail would have her freedom.

Sacrifice



I enter the cool darkness of the temple, wearing only my white silk robe and a diadem of tiny stars. Inside all is silent, the darkness only relieved by torches held in sconces on the walls. I am aware that today I am the sacrifice to be made here.

Moving to the altar, I spread my arms wide, offering myself to worship. My nipples prickle hard and erect beneath my robe, the stubble of my pubic region rustles against the silk. I have shaved, and the lips of my vulva and exposed clitoris are caressed by the fabric, tantalising me, tempting me to seek my own pleasure. My fingers ache to run up and down the lips of my vagina, to fall to the floor and stroke my tiny budlike clitoris until I roll around in ecstasy. But not today – today the pleasure of my body will be for my priest alone.

Carefully, I trace the ancient dance on the floor. Around the first altar, the length of the second, anti-clockwise around the second, and finishing back at the tomb. My lover-to-be waits within.

Drawing my sword, I cut aside the shroud of the Tomb. There he stands in his magnificence. His brow is slightly drawn as if frowning a little, his hair is dark and short, his skin tanned and smooth. A little stubble lines his cheeks. His chest is broad, his shoulders straight and wide, arms crossed with muscular biceps. His fingers are those of an artist, long, clever, slightly roughened. His hands are incredibly strong, yet so gentle. His body is in perfect proportion, tapering to hips I long to wrap myself around, muscular thighs that I ache to squeeze. He is in repose, eyes closed, asleep until I awaken him.

I raise my sword and speak the incantation. At once, his eyes fly open. Dark eyes, burning with warm flecks of chocolate and green. His intense gaze swivels and focuses on me. Inhuman, godly. I shiver, afraid of what I have unleashed, and step back involuntarily as he takes three steps forward. He is not yet complete – I hurry to anoint him with water, wave the incense over him, as his eyes follow me – unafraid and seemily contemptuous of the trivial details that will restore him to life. He speaks again, commanding me. I fetch his robe, his crown and dress him. I long to touch him, to caress his shoulders, his firm waist, yet I dare not. I am in awe of him, knowing what I must do and yet in fear of this man - part God, part Human, all masculine beauty.

Again he gives me his command, to restore him to life. I kneel, knowing what is demanded of me. Gently, I part his robe and reach within. I find his penis, his sacred lance, and begin to rub my hands up and down it most gently. Eleven times my hands caress it, rising up and down its length, watching it burst forth into life. It raises its head all purple and voluptuous pleasure before me. It rises massive and erect from the nest of his soft pubic hair, where it lay softly circled by his balls. I caress those as well, although this is not required. He frowns but says nothing, concentrating on the rising tide of warmth that restores him to life. I quiver on my knees before him, knowing that soon I must service him fully – hoping only that he finds pleasure with me and is pleased.

This time when he speaks, the cold mask has withdrawn and he smiles down upon me. Taking my hand he raises me to my feet, accepting the offering I have made. I feel overjoyed to be held so gently in his fist, I feel almost faint with pleasure. He leads me to the altar, and taking my hand gently, singing my praises, he lifts me upon it. He steps back and gives me the privacy of the veil – drawing the curtain before me.

As he intones his praise of my virtues and invokes me to him, I draw off my robe and wait shivering on the altar. My nipples once more prickle erect, I part my thighs with difficulty, shy and awkward at assuming this vulnerable position while awaiting his presence. My sex is opened, the lips parted and revealing their moist and hot centre, all the more naked in their shaved appearance. A trickle of warm fluid seeps down my thighs, despite my fear I am welcoming and excited. I am open and inviting, exposing myself to him completely. I give myself over to the words of the Goddess, entreating him to draw near, bursting with my love for him, tinged with fear and anticipation.

He draws the curtain and admires me, spread wide and naked before him. Advancing, his erection bobbing in front of him, he mounts the stairs of the altar, bringing his ponderous length to my lips. A small drop of precum oozes from the tip as he slowly eases forward, his massive erection ready to receive my attention. Opening my mouth, I take him between my lips and slowly engulf his entire length, my tongue swirling over the back of his penis, the head sliding down my throat. I slide my tongue around and around the head, nuzzling the tip, slipping into the eye, tasting his pleasure. Again and again I slide his length into my mouth, my eyes closed in ecstasy at tasting him. My jaw works to fit his whole penis deep in my mouth and throat, to engulf him completely until my lips are nuzzling at the base of his erection, the soft rub of pubic hair. All too soon, he cups my face in his hands and slowly removes his erection from my lips. He is smiling, pleased with me, and I bask in the glow of his warm gaze.

He descends one step, and spreads wide my thighs with his strong hands. He grasps my legs, broking no argument or embarrassment, and his eyes rake over my exposed nakedness lovingly. He pauses, taking in the sight of my denuded vagina, the lips full and hot, the clitoris aching between them. My nipples seem to jut out at him, demanding his kisses. My whole body yearns and aches for his touch. He smiles, pleased with what he sees. I am ready for him, but it is not yet the time for him to enjoy me fully. He bows his head between my thighs, lifting them over his shoulders and raising my sex to his lips. His nose nudges my clitoris, causing me to gasp in pleasure and shudder involuntarily. His tongue sweeps over my lips, swirling into the centre of my flower, forcefully rubbing my swollen and excited clitoris. I cry out, my back arching with pleasure, but he holds my legs open and refuses to back away. His hands move around me, cupping my buttocks and holding me open to his touch, his tongue, his every sense. As his tongue swirls around and around my clitoris, driving me to the brink of excitement, he removes one hand from around me and penetrates me gently with a forefinger. His thumb strokes my clitoris as his tongue swirls around it, his finger gently thrusting in and out in time with my panting gasps. A second finger joins it, giving me a greater sense of fullness and unbearable excitement. I cry and moan and gasp, impaled on his fingers, gripped by his strong hand and unable to move away although pleasure threatens to engulf me. My voice is moaning with desire, and I entreat him to give me more. He looks up at me, smiling and satisfied, and slowly releases me. I sigh and give a low growl of pleasure. 

Wantonly, I part my thighs further and look down at him between them, awaiting his love. The altar is cold marble beneath me, hard and unyielding. My sex and buttocks feel hot and feverish. I pant and moan, desperate for him to conjoin with me.

He climbs the altar again, this time holding his erection in his hand. More precum oozes from the tip, exciting me, desperate for his attention. I long to twine my legs about him, but he pushes them away, making me wait while he enters me to his satisfaction. Holding his penis he strokes my clitoris and lips, making me wild with passion and desire. I am begging now, my sex thrusting towards him, desperate for penetration. He pauses to my frustration, savouring the feeling of rubbing the head of his cock against my sex, holding my hips firmly away, making me wait on his pleasure. I moan and beg, but to no avail. Suddenly, he thrusts into me fully, his whole length sinking into me fast and hard. I half-scream with pleasure, and my fingernails rake his shoulders as I grip him fully. He is talking to me soothingly, as he slowly begins to move. His hands move underneath me, cupping my buttocks again as he firmly thrusts into me, slowly at first, maddeningly slowly, yet to my over-stimulated sex it is such welcome relief. His pubic bone moves against my clitoris promising release. I am writhing with pleasure, and still he moves ever so slowly, determined to prolong the pleasure of possessing me completely. I am completely in his power, almost crying with excitement, and he speaks to me gently, telling me it will not be long now, not long now, as his penis enters me again and again, the whole length sinking into my hot, excited vulva, teasingly rubbing my clit.

Now? I ask, Now? Please?

Yes, he responds, his eyes moving over my face, dark and intently searching, Now.

He begins to move faster, his length sliding in and out and his pace quickening. His hard thighs slap against me, the hands that stroked me now hold my hips firm to rebuff against his thrusts. He is looking deep into my eyes, but his gaze is becoming cloudy as his own desire starts to manifest. I realise it was difficult to prolong the pleasure for him as well, he was surely ready to burst with excitement more than once despite his veneer of control. I am grinding against him, begging for him to fuck me harder and he responds with extra vigour thrusting harder, and showing me no mercy as he begins to pound me furiously. My breasts are crushed against his chest, I wrap my legs around him and grip him tightly as my orgasm approaches. Screaming, I arch my back and feel the explosion from the centre of my being as waves of pleasure wash over me. He flings his arms around me, gripping me tightly as only our sexes move in a dance of give and take, slapping together even though my clitoris quivers swollen and sensitive with every touch in the wake of my orgasm. I hear him cry out as well, he grips me in a bear hug and his penis twitches with its own orgasm. He is gasping into my hair, his arms are flung about me and shaking with desire. He is both vulnerable and powerful, unable to control himself in the throws of his climax. I am speaking soothingly to him, telling him I love him, telling him I worship him, calling him my darling, baby, oh honey, so good. He moans in response, his thrusts turning into a gentle swirling motion, his penis not yet leaving me, tremors still coursing through his hard and sexy body. His lips reach mine and we kiss deeply and passionately, the roar of our mutual orgasm still loud in our ears. Our bodies rock together, warm and comfortable, as the pleasure sweeps over us, receding in waves of warmth and desire. We are loathe to disconnect, and rock together for a long while, his penis softening and the fluids of our love pooling beneath us until finally we must unjoin.

We lay together on the thick carpet before the altar, and look at the starry ceiling and give praise. Praise to our creator, praise to our Gods and praise to ourselves – male and female and all holy.



Sacrifice



(A Gothic Setting)

He walked quickly down the street, rushing past the darkened houses on this, the dreariest of days. Necessity drove him this night, on his errand all too important. The most importance in essence.

He paused on a street corner and looked up at the sky. Useless...the sky would be no comfort tonight. Large black billowing clouds rolled across the sky as the sun cast its final rays of sunlight across the world. He sighed as he gazed up at those towering castles of gloom. He glanced down at his watch and shook his head. "So little time..." he thought to himself.

Darkness settled into his heart...so much courage would be required of him, and he knew not if he had it. With another glance at the darkening sky, he sped off into the deepening gloom.

As he raced along he noticed the lack of light in the street. "It's well past twilight...why aren't the streetlamps on yet?" He spared only the thought as he rushed to his destination...perhaps his final one. While he had never actually been to the church, he knew all too well where to find it and had no trouble finding it.

At long last, after passing many dark and depressing streets, he reached the cathedral. He shivered as he looked up at those big, blood red, windows of the ancient building. He thought back to when he had first seen the place. His friend Terry had told him that Satan himself had built that church and that no human feet had set foot there in centuries.

The building itself was constructed of dark grey bricks and tapered off to a sharp peak high above the entrance. He turned quickly for he thought he saw something moving stealthily between the gravestones. After a moment of looking, he turned back toward the church.

Closing his eyes as he took a first step into the graveyard, he knew for sure that he was going to be struck by lightning. Feeling no condolence for lack of lightning he pressed forward towards the entrance of the cathedral, passing many gravestones whose names have long since been erased by time.

At long last he reached the foot of the stairs that lead up to the giant doors. He quickly moved up the steps to stand before the huge doors. He grimaced as he inspected the doors, which he discovered, were elaborately decorated with human faces contorted in pain and agony.

He slowly wrapped his hand around the handle and pulled one of the doors open. Stale and putrid air rushed past him as if the very air wished to leave this place of death and decay. With a swift glance behind him he stepped inside.

Row after row of pews stretched out in front of him. While some still stood, many had quite literally crumbled into heaps of rotten wood. The floor creaked loudly as he made his way forward towards the altar.

As he walked down the aisle of the church, he thought about Casey. 

Roughly one week ago she had been involved in an accident, which had left her with serious brain damage. The doctors only gave her a few days to live... In truth it was a dream that had led him to this place...somehow he knew he could save her if he could just make it here.

Without seeing or hearing it, he could sense an evil presence in this place... As he made his way close to the altar, he experienced what could only be described as an inverse flash of light. Exactly like a blinding flash of light, except that it was darkness that blinded him. When he was able to see again, he saw what looked like a young man sitting on the altar with one leg dangling over the edge.

"This place was built ages ago with the sole purpose to offer tribute to Me." said the man as he glanced down at his visitor. 

"I don't have time to exchange cheap words with you Satan." Andrew replied. 

"Very well, what DID you come here for?" Satan asked with an air of curiosity. 

"I came to beg you to spare the life of my wife Casey," Andrew stated plainly. 

"Ah yes, I remember her. She was involved in that delightful accident I created a week ago, correct?" He said with satisfaction. 

"Yes." was all Andrew could reply. 

"As you wish, I will spare her life, BUT I require something from you in return for my assistance," Satan said with a smile. He was afraid this might be the case. With as much determination as he could muster, he replied "Anything."

"You need not worry, I'm not after your soul...such a cliché...besides, so many people live in sin that I have more souls than I know what to do with," he said lazily. "No, all I ask in return is that you give your life. "Your life in exchange for hers." As he said this, Satan drew forth a serpentine dagger and handed it to Andrew. "Kill yourself with this, and I will spare the life of your wife."

Now that it came down to the choice, he didn't know if he could go through with this. There were so many things left unsaid, so many things left undone. He spent many minutes deliberating, but in the end he knew that he was the only hope for his wife, and without another thought plunged the dagger straight into his heart "I am a man of my word," he said with his dying breath.

With no expression on his face Satan simply said, and snapped his fingers.

Several miles away in a hospital room, Casey suddenly awoke from her deep coma, fully healed and fully awake. It was several weeks before anyone found his body, and they figured that he had committed suicide in grief for his wife. While Casey grieved for many months, she eventually moved on and lived happily ever after, never knowing the sacrifice that he had paid for her to live.



Sacrifice



All persons involved in sexual situations may be considered of legal consensual age. 18+

*

The beast's lair was a full three days of travel from her city, but the journey was pleasant enough. They rode on open carts softened with hay-stuffed woolen pillows, and the late summer heat was mitigated by a soft breeze that swept up from the sea, sowing their hair and clothes with the scents of salt and the warmth of the olive groves that lined the hills below the road. 

The road cut an uneven path along the high ridges of the rugged countryside and from this height Caliope could see a thin line of pale bluish green shining out in the hazy distance framed only by the pale sky and the heavy green of the rolling hills. 

The girl sitting across from her started crying again and was rewarded with a weepy hug from a similarly swollen and red-eyed girl. She looked away, back to the rolling hills and shifted uncomfortably.

Calliope had joined the group two days ago, and they'd done nothing else but weep since she'd been there. 

There were two carts rocking gently along the road, both could hold ten passengers, and very nearly did. A small guard accompanied them on foot, led by a stiff necked captain who rode ahead on horseback. They weren't there to protect the cargo of women so much as prevent them from escaping. 

She grimaced. She'd been trying to distract herself with the blue sky and scented breeze, but the grim soldiers and the incessant sobbing kept pulling her back to the present dilemma. Well perhaps not a dilemma, so much as a terrible and hopeless situation. She'd volunteered to be part of the tribute, to save her family the loss of her more promising sister, who, even at 19, already had numerous proposals. There were tributes every five years, sometimes gold, sometimes livestock, and every town gave their part. This year the creature had demanded young women. 

She repressed a shudder. Most of these girls hadn't volunteered, they were the youngest marriagable daughters in their households, all from prominent families with more than three daughters from different towns. The councils of each city had decided that this was the fairest way to choose the women. It would have been too much to bare to make the parents, mothers and fathers, choose among their own beloved children, and there would be a riot if they asked such a price of the poorer citizens, who already suffered enough. 

She raked her gaze silently over them for the hundredth time in the last two days. Two or three sat more or less stoically, already resigned, as she was, to their fate. One near her prayed softly to Artemis to protect her. No one spoke much. 

Another breeze swept over them carrying the Mediterranean on its wings, as if the south wind himself was lending them what little comfort he could. Her stomach began to cramp into a small knot and she gave in a little to her fear, praying along silently with the pleading whispers next to her. The young woman next to her was begging protection from the maiden goddess Artemis. Caliope prayed to Athena. Not for protection, but for wisdom and for courage. For strength. 

None of them knew their fate. She assumed death, it made it easier to deal with. Though some might disagree, she felt it was truly the worst fate. If she expected death and got something else, well then she was ahead wasn't she? She was not too proud to save her life though slavery or servitude. 

She sighed out loud and turned away from the swollen eyes and watched a young shepherd guide his flock over the rocks of a nearby hill. He paused to watch them, squirming lamb under one arm. She lifted a hand, and he smiled, lifting his free hand in response. Suddenly she felt calmer, more centered. It would be okay, everyone would be okay. 

For her family it would be as though she were married to a man who lived in a distant land. They would suffer no great loss. She thought of her sister's tear streaked face as she left with the soldiers and touched the silver serpentine bracelet on her arm that she had been made to take with her. Her sister's bracelet. 

She fought the sorrow that welled up in her chest and wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her bare skin. 

In the distance the thin blue line had widened to an ever growing expanse. They were nearly there. They paused at one more town, the last one, and witnessed their final heartbreaking scene of a family forced to part with their child. The girl was lifted gently by guilty looking guards onto the second cart. She was beautiful, despite her reddened eyes, and she waved tearfully. Only her father waved back, her mother and sisters having already collapsed in grief and mourning into the dust. Calliope watched the man as the cart rolled forward, standing like a statue, frozen with cold misery, one hand raised, his family in a heap at his feet. She pushed her own family out of her mind again and took deep breaths. Whatever else, she had her honor left, and what little composure she was able to muster.

Not far from the village, maybe an hour's march, the road tapered off, and they were unloaded and led through a prettyish woods which opened up into a rolling pasture land dotted with grey rock and framed beyond by the sea which crashed slowly and rhythmically against the low rocky cliffs. Under any other circumstance she would have been moved by the beauty and serenity of the place. Now she felt only dread. 

One cliff rose up into a rocky spire before them and where the grey stone met emerald grass, a black opening rose up into view. 

Caliope was seized with sudden fear and stopped short instinctively. She wasn't the only one. The guards let them stare a moment before prodding them forward like skittish ewes. The cavern loomed overhead, as high at least as five tall men. She had heard that the creature was a giant. Some said he was a titan who escaped Zeus's fury, others that he was a Cyclops. One even said he was a great serpent like the one Perseus slew.

As they entered the cave she inhaled. The air was surprisingly dry, and smelled only of the sea air, not death and rot as she had expected. 

The guards paused them at the entrance, most of them glancing anxiously around, nervously fingering their hilts. From somewhere at the back of the great cavern a man appeared. He was average looking, at least, that is, there was nothing strange or monstrous about him, even if he was a bit rough and worn around the edges. His squared jaw was shadowed with the hint of a beard and his hair was longish and loose, the ends brushing his sturdy looking shoulders. He nodded with familiarity to the captain who eyed him suspiciously, but nodded back.

There was a guard near her standing close to the back. She leaned closer to him and whispered "Who is that?"

He leaned forward, his mouth near her ear. "The creature's servant."

"Ah." 

The man walked past the captain and gave a quick appraisal, noting each girl quickly, pausing briefly at one or two. As his eyes moved she caught them and held them a moment. They were a piercing blue grey. She wondered if he saw the question in her own dark eyes. If he did, she couldn't see an answer in his. 

"This it?" he asked coolly. 

The captain bristled.

"This is the tribute." he responded with a tight voice, emphasizing the word tribute."Very well. You may go."

He motioned for the women to follow. "This way." 

The Captains jaw twitched and after a hesitant moment motioned his solders to move out. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see the guard behind her give her a sad and apologetic look. She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile and followed the man who was already disappearing before her. No one else moved until she was halfway across the broad cavern floor. Slowly, a few at a time, they stumbled and shuffled forward. She didn't turn around but she could hear them whimpering. 

She straighten her shoulders and marched on into the dark unknown uneasily. 

They passed through torch lit stone halls until they paused at one of the heavy doors that looked like it might be bolted directly into the stone. He opened it and stood aside. She entered first, tentatively. The room was empty, causing an involuntary sigh of relief. The room wasn't large, but it was lined with pillowed benches, and there was a table with some food and water at the far end. It was at least more comfortable than a prison cell, or cage, and it sparked a dangerous hope in her heart. Then again, she reconsidered as the others filed past her, perhaps this was the only place to put them for the time being. 

"Wait here." Was all the servant said before he closed the door behind him. They all just looked at each other for a while, a few still clinging to others for comfort. 

Calliope turned and tried the door. It was locked, as she suspected. 

"What shall become of us." whispered a young girl with wide terrified brown eyes. She looked like a doe cornered by a hunter, trembling with fear. 

"It's going to eat us!" squealed another.

"No," Calliope responded, "I don't think so. Why wouldn't they just throw us in a cage or prison if that were the case." No one answered. "Besides, I'm sure we're all too skinny too make a good meal." She tried to smile light-heartedly to ease the oppressive weight of their united fear. 

"Maybe young girls taste better." Another one whispered, making her neighbor whimper.

"What else can a giant want from us?" Said another, almost angrily. "We're going to die!" This caused another round of tears and sobbing, which was frankly getting tiresome, and wasn't helping her retain her composure. 

"Why aren't you afraid?" Asked the doe eyed girl. 

"I am." She admitted. The girl only nodded and curled up her knees to her chest on one of the benches. 

No one touched the food. 

After an eternity the servant returned. 

"The master is here." 

They all stared at him, some in open horror. He let out an impatient sigh. 

"Well don't all jump up at once. Let's go. Up, all of you." One by one they rose and approached the door. Calliope had sat next to the door on the floor, and waited until they'd all filed out until rising and bringing up the rear. She thought of turning around and making a dash for it, but then thought of all those poor girls facing their fate alone while she hid like a coward. Besides she thought glancing behind her, who knows where those corridors led. Out of the pot and into the fire she mused. 

They had returned to the great cavern and the group was stopped at the center, facing the entrance. It was only a moment before a shadow passed before the cave's mouth, and was followed by a figure that filled the massive opening, blocking the last rays of the setting sun. 

It, he, was monstrous. A giant at least, no...more than, twenty feet tall, wearing only a half toga as laborers do in the hot sun, his massive upper body exposed, revealing strange greyish colored skin stretched tightly over huge knotted muscles. He looked as though he could crush a man's head between his thumb and forefinger. She couldn't repress her shudder. Two of the girls became feint and fell into the arms of their neighbors, and several screamed. 

He looked down at them with huge gleaming amber eyes. As the glare from the sun faded behind him she noticed two short horns that sprung from his hairless head like a saters. She glanced at his feet expecting hooves, but they were more or less normal looking, like a man's, just much, much bigger, enough to support tree trunk legs. He seemed to look them over, and snorted derisively, causing a number of them to let out another round of terrified cries, that broke down into more uncontrollable weeping. He shook his massive head, and his strangely colored eyes darkened. She thought he looked... disappointed. She wondered what that meant. She decided it wasn't good. When he opened his mouth to speak his voice rolled over them like distant thunder.

"Take them away Demitri" Demitri, the servant, nodded and began shepherding them all back into the hall. Calliope paused, not following, only staring up at the behemoth. Demitri didn't seem to notice; perhaps he was too busy trying to revive one girl who'd fallen unconscious. She watched as he hefted her up into his arms and shooed the others ahead of him.

She looked back at the towering figure. He'd turned and was just standing, looking back outside. She swallowed hard and stepped forward. Their lives might depend on what she did next she thought, so she better not do anything stupid. She cleared her throat softly. He didn't seem to hear. 

"My lord" she called tentatively. She saw the corded muscles in his neck twitch indicating he'd heard her. He turned his head slowly and looked at her with mild curiosity. 

"Yes?" His voice rumbled deeply in his chest reverberating through the cavern, shaking her to the bone. She took a breath. "I, I'm sorry." She stuttered. "I'm sorry, that you're disappointed."

"Are you now?" He arched an eyebrow at her and turned. Looking directly at his face now she noticed how his elongated canines showed when he spoke, pressing lightly against his bottom lip. They terrified her. 

What's more she wasn't sure how to respond to the question. She should have thought this through. 

"I...I would hate for you to be angry...my lord."

"I see. Is that all?" She paused.

"I suppose so. Yes."

"Very well." He turned back away.

"My lord."

"Yes." He did not turn around.

"Have you decided what will happen to us?" 

It was his turn to pause. "No."

"I see." She lowered her head and closed her eyes. "Is it very likely that we will die my lord?" 

She didn't see him turn and look back at her this time. 

"No," he said in a softer tone, "you will not die." 

Her heart jumped out of her chest and she was awash with relief when she raised her eyes back up to meet his frightening gaze. She wasn't going to die! No one was. 

"Thank you my lord." She breathed, feeling her first honest smile in days playing across her lips. He softened visibly and moved closer crouching down in alarming proximity to her so that she was but a step or two away from reaching out and touching his bent knee. She didn't pull away, but the urge to run was powerfully strong. I'm not going to die she reminded herself, and took another deep breathe.

"Is that why they're all screaming and crying? They expect to die?"

"Well... partially. But you must forgive them," she rushed on "they're all very upset, and you're, well, surprising, to see so...suddenly." Damn she though, that hadn't come out very well. 

"I think you mean terrifying." She opened her mouth to argue, and realized it was futile and ridiculous. All she could do was nod apologetically.

"And what about you? Why aren't you screaming and trembling in fear?"

"I promised myself I wouldn't. But if it's any consolation," she added, "I'm out of my mind with fear right now." She tried to smile gamily, but she thought if felt more like a grimace. He gave her a little smirk and stood again.

"Fair enough. Well, if it will be any consolation to Them, you may tell them they aren't in any immediate danger, and certainly not of death." 

She nodded. "It may help." 

He looked like he was about to leave again. 

"One more thing my lord..." 

He sighed. "What is it?"

"Is, is there anything that I might do?"

"Do?"

"To... serve you." Or make you less displeased she thought.

"You want to serve me?"

"It was very gracious of you to spare our lives. It seems like the least I can do." He looked at her a long while before he spoke.

"Demitri will be serving my evening meal soon. After that I think I will have a bath. You can help him and draw that bath. Good?"

"Yes my lord." He looked at her again and turned striding back out into the pastures that surrounded the cavern before she could bother him again. "You fool." she chided herself. "How are you going to pull this one off." How did one draw a bath for giant? She didn't know where to start. It just didn't seem possible. It must be a test she thought. The only person who might know was Demitri, but if it was a test, he might not help her. He might not help her just because, he did seem like the miserable type. "Only one way to find out." she muttered and went off down the smooth stone hall in search of Demitri. She found him in what looked like a kitchen of some sort. He looked up in surprise from a roasted lamb he was carving. 

"What on earth are you doing in here? How did you get out?" he was striding towards her and reaching for her arm before she could stutter anything out.

"I needed your help. I never went back. Please." He was pulling her out of the room and into the hall. "Please, stop, the master...he, he set me a task.." 

He finally paused. "You spoke with him?" 

"Yes." He released her arm. "And?" 

"And he told me to draw him a bath...is, is this possible?" 

"Of course it's possible." He looked at her like she was addled. 

"I mean is there such a bath for one of his...stature?" 

"Look, there's a room two doors down on the left, the bathing cistern is there, go and take a look if you don't believe me, but I have work to do." 

"Can I help?" 

"Yes, take this," he pointed to a tray with a plate of olives, grapes, and fruit and a large jug of dark wine, "and deliver it to the room next to the bath...the first door down." 

"Where does it go." 

"Wherever makes sense." 

She nodded and picked up the tray and headed down the hall. "Drop it and I'll whip the life right out of you..." he called after her. At the first door she paused, and balancing the tray partially on one knee, she pushed the door open. The interior was surprisingly pleasant. There were a few tapestries, some of them very handsome, some benches and numerous skins and pillows piled around a low table. The table seemed the logical place for the platter, so she set it carefully before taking a better look around. It was a little bit sparse, but it could reasonably be considered a normal room in most houses, excepting the grey stone walls. There was a single large decorative vase on a little table against the wall with images of warriors battling a three headed monster, and a large somewhat ornate chest against another wall. She thought to peek in, but thought better of it instantly, an image of Pandora standing over her god forsaken box flitting through her head. Instead she left the room, eschewing temptation, and went in search of this enormous bath. There was a bath in the next room, but she instantly thought it was a joke, or a trick being played on her. 

Certainly the sunken stone bath was large enough to fit four or more normal people comfortably, but certainly not a giant such as the master of this place. 

Her heart sank...and here she thought it might not be so hard. There was not much more she could do but prepare the bath and plead ignorance later. At least she could claim she was trying to be obedient, or some other such nonsense. 

She noticed a spigot at one side of the squared bath, she knelt down and turned the little crank attached to it and water gulped out slowly, fresh water too by the smell, just like in some of the nicer bath houses. That would save her having to haul several dozen buckets of water at least. She filled the bath until it covered the built in bench, and headed back to the kitchen. The water was cool, but more tepid than frigid, which meant less boiled water was needed. Another point in her favor. She was calculating the time it would take to boil that water when she reached the kitchen and saw to her surprise and delight four kettles already set to boil on the oven. 

"Tell me those are for me." 

Demitri looked up with a gruff expression and snorted. "Some one had to get it started." He looked angry but she was sure she heard a laughing if sardonic note in his voice which gave her some ease. 




Sacrifice



"Here, make yourself useful and fetch more water." He thrust a couple of pails at her and turned back to his work. She figured she was on her own as far as finding water. She did remember a creek not far from the cave that they crossed to get here. 

At the entrance to the cave she paused, wondering if she was breaking a rule by leaving. It shouldn't be an issue so long as I come back she mused and shrugged heading out across the now darkness-blackened grass. She found the water easily by sound, despite the distracting crash of the waves below, and stooped to collect her load. For a moment she thought she felt someone approach from behind, but turning, she saw and heard no one. 

"Just the tricks of an unfamiliar place." she muttered to console herself. She filled the buckets quickly and moved as swiftly as she might without losing any of her cargo. In the kitchen dinner looked like it was prepared and the smell of roasted lamb was a compelling reminder of how little she'd eaten that day, a few figs in the morning, and a piece of bread at mid-day. No one had had much of an appetite. But with the fear of immediate danger abated somewhat, the little activity had made her appetite return. Demitri carried the big platter on one shoulder into the hall and she followed with her first set of kettles leaving him at the tapestry room and continuing next door.

Carrying her second set of kettles she mused that none of the rooms she'd seen, nor the halls for that matter were large enough to support the giant, and she wondered then who they might be for. Perhaps he is not the master she considered as she refilled the kettles, perhaps the giant was merely a guard of sorts. Then again he had asked specifically for a bath for himself. It didn't make any real sense to her. She sighed and sat down on a little stool next to the oven and picked at a plate of olives left out by Demitri. A while later, Demitri appeared at the door with an empty wine jug and thrust it towards her. She hesitated and he shook it impatiently.

"Fill it and take it to him, I have better things to do." 

She carefully accepted the jug which he all but tossed at her and swept off in some other direction. She filled the tall jug full up and carried it back to the supper room, where she assumed she was meant to go. The door was ajar and she pushed it open with her hip. It was a good thing she did too, for without two hands clutching it she would have dropped the heavy carafe right there on the floor. In front of her, to her amazement, was a miniaturized replica of the giant lounging on one of the wide benches popping grapes in his mouth. Of course he was miniature by no one's standards, looking as though he must still stand nearly eight feet tall, and proportionately as wide. He sat up and held up his glass, taking in her gaping expression with what looked like mild amusement on his not quite human face. This sobered her up a bit and she moved forward, carefully tipping the wine into his cup. She stood back again, still clutching the jug and stared. He watched her over his glass as he drank back the wine, proffering the cup a second time. Silently, she filled it.

"So," he began after settling back onto his bench, "how goes the bath?"

"Well my lord." Her voice sounded a little raspy to her and she swallowed to clear it.

"Good." 

They stared at each other for a while until he waved a hand. "Please, sit. I don't imagine you've eaten anything yet." She walked around the table to sit at the other side. Close enough to fill his glass, but still separated by the table corner. "You can probably put that down." She looked down and noticed she still clutched the jug. With a flush she slid it onto the table. 

"Here," he held out his glass to her, and she reached for the jug again. 

"No, no, take it, you look like you've seen Hades. Drink." She took the glass tentatively but found once it was to her lips that she was as thirsty as she was hungry. The glass was nearly empty when she finally remembered herself, and she put it down with another flush. He said nothing but finished the glass for her with a toss and refilled it, pushing it back towards her. She remembered to sip instead of gulp this time. And placed it demurely between them, not sure if she was meant to keep it or give it back. 

"Go ahead, don't stand on ceremony, I've already eaten." He took another sip out of the shared cup and replaced it in front of her before reclining with an air of satisfaction against the cushioned wall. After she'd satisfied her own hunger, and had had enough wine to give her courage she looked over at him quizzically.

"Can you change your shape at will then?"

"My size yes."

"How is that possible?"

"Many things are possible." She looked down at her now empty plate. 

"How large can you become?"

"Not much larger than you've seen me."

"And small?" He opened his arms to present himself. "That's not very small."

"No." He smiled, exposing his fangs again. Wine or no they continued to make her nervous. So she looked around the room. 

"At first I thought the bath thing was some sort of evil test." She smiled nervously. "Then I saw the bath, and realized it was just a bad joke...but now..."She gestured to him, "it makes much more sense."

He chuckled and nodded in agreement, "a terrible joke indeed."

"Did you create this place?" she asked, looking around.

"Partially. The caverns themselves are natural."

"How long have you lived here?"

"A long time."

"And these things?" She motioned to the vase and tapestries.

"Collected, or parts of tributes... like yourself."

Her stomach seized a little and her eyes shot over towards him. He'd said no death, but he never said what was going to happen. 

Her voice came out in a breathy whisper, "What was your intention for us, for this tribute?"

"Intentions and outcomes often differ." His eyes darkened again like they had when he'd first seen the girls.

"I've never been very patient, and I especially can't abide whimpering and crying." He seemed to become irritated, as if remembering the sight of all those sobbing girls set him on edge. She could sympathize, it set her nerves alight as well. "My intentions were linked with my hopes...which have been...disappointed, as you said. Therefore I'm obliged to consider alternative options." His voice and expression seemed dark and far away, as if, she imagined, contemplating some terrible thought. She reached out a hand involuntarily to calm him touching his forearm lightly. The muscle jumped under her hand and his other arm shot out to grab her wrist. She let out a startled gasp. He released her before she could pull away or apologize. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I wasn't expecting your touch." She swallowed hard and nodded. 

"I didn't mean to startle you either." She paused and looked down at the empty cup in front of her. 

"Please...my lord, perhaps if you give them some time to adjust, if you let me talk to them they will calm down. They are, after all, very young. We all are." She added after a pause remembering to include herself in that. 

"As I noted before, You are not screaming and crying." 

She nodded."I'm different though, I volunteered." 

He looked at her more intensely. 

"And they didn't?" 

"No. They were chosen because they were the younger daughters of age, from the largest families." He leaned back and let out a heavy sigh. 

"Let me guess, every one of them is a virgin aren't they." 

It didn't seem like a question, but she answered anyway. "It would be highly unlikely if one of them were not." 

"And you?" He seemed to look her up and down in an appraising manner, as if really looking at her for the first time. She looked down to hide her blush."I'll take that as a yes. Why did you volunteer?" 

"To save my younger sister." She answered honestly returning her eyes to his face. "She had better prospects for marriage anyway." He arched a brow at her. "No suitors banging down your door?" 

She shook her head, "Men seem to find me somewhat...cold, I lack the graces of my sisters. My father thinks...thought I would make an excellent merchants wife. I wasn't enthusiastic about it myself." Why was she telling him this? It must be the wine. She wrung her hands. 

"You seem quite pleasant to me." 

She flushed and cleared her throat, rising. "Thank you. I'm sorry my lord I've taken too much of your time. Your water will be ready for the bath by now. Thank you for the supper." She bowed and exited the room hastily not waiting to be excused. 

The wine had made her flushed, she shouldn't have drank so much on an empty stomach. She was hot all over. In the kitchen she found the water was indeed ready and she hastened to the bath. He'd already made his way into the adjoining room and had disrobed. She quickly averted her eyes. It wasn't as though she'd not seen a naked man, certainly she'd seen many, it was after all customary for the daughters of well off men to tend and bathe his most honored guests. There was nothing new in this for her, but unlike the body of your average 40 something year old, a giant of a man, an exceedingly well proportioned giant of a man, was rather much to take in without being caught in a blatant wide eyed stare. She kept her eyes on the water until he was safely submerged. She looked up at him and he gave her a knowing smile. 

She forced down a blush. "More hot water?" He nodded and she fetched the rest pouring it in slowly until he motioned enough. 

There was soap and towels laid out, by Demitri she guessed, which she collected and knelt behind him. She wet the cloth and was about to start when he pulled away and turned to look at her, an incredulous look on his face. "What are you doing?" 

Her instinctive response was, exactly what it looks like I'm doing, but that would have been rude, and possibly dangerous... so she ventured tentatively, "helping you wash?" 

"Why would you do that?" 

She wasn't sure what to say. 

"It's what we always do...at home...for honoured guests..." 

"Really?" 

"Yes my lord." 

Was he angry? He was looking at her very suspiciously and she felt as though she'd done something terribly wrong. Would he punish her? "Very well." Was all he said and turned back around, stretching his long arms across the edge of the bath. She proceeded with her work, rubbing his arms and shoulders, massaging them as she went, one of her more appreciated skills, and smiled when she earned an approving grunt. "That feels good." 

"Thank you." 

It better feel good she thought, she'd never worked so hard in her life. Most men she'd massaged were older, and softer. This was like trying to rub the knots out of a tree trunk. Eventually her arms tired and she proceeded to the chest and waist. The front was her little sister's domain. She would chat and flirt and entertain, sometimes getting a little carried away, while Calliope would shake her head at her in mock disapproval from behind whatever besotted man was melting under their fingers. 

Her sister was a mystery. Good and chaste in-fact, but seemed wild and sensual in spirit. She remembered how shocked she'd been the first time she'd seen her sister do...That to a man while bathing him, and the way she'd laughed at her shock later that evening when she questioned her. She said it was practice for when she was finally married...she'd never questioned it, what was the point, Helena would just do it anyway. Lost in her thoughts she was smiling distractedly and didn't notice the careful eyes watching her work. 

"What ARE you thinking about?" 

She started out of her reverie. "Oh, I'm sorry. I have a tendency to drift. I've never been good at small talk...that was my sister's domain. 

"That's who I was thinking about just now." She added. 

"What about her?" He pressed after she didn't continue. 

"Oh just how we used to do this for guests together...I was thinking how she'd always take the front and ...ah, well, um I'd take the back." He didn't press it but gave her a sideways look. She blushed and tried to focus on the task at hand. He and the bath were too big, she'd have to climb in to finish...and gods knew what she'd bump into once she was in. He must have sensed her hesitation and took the cloth from her, continuing her job. She rewarded his kindness by continuing to massage his neck. He paused and groaned. 

"Did I hurt you?" She asked softly. 

He chuckled. "Not possible." 

She smiled at the back of his smooth head. This wasn't so bad. He seemed nice enough, kind even. 

Normal...if you weren't looking at the two curved horns at his forehead, or those strange amber eyes. Things could be much worse. 

"You're very close to you sister." 

"Yes. Her name is Helena." 

"Tell me more about her." 

She complied happily. She loved to talk about her sister, her charm and beauty, her easy manners and gentle spirit. 

She rambled on easily and he seemed interested to hear it, interjecting questions when appropriate. After a time he reached up and laid a hand on hers, the sensation sent a little lightning bolt up her arm and through her body, startling her. 

"You care very much for her don't you." 

"Yes," she said softly her eyes on the hand that covered hers. 

"Was she the one you saved from me?" 

She felt a stab in her stomach. At first she thought it might be fear, but she realized, strangely, that it was more like guilt. 

"Yes." She said, this time no more than a whisper. 

"This makes you sad." 

"No..I mean, I.." What could she say? "No, it was good that I came, took her place...but..." She paused. "I know it's strange, but you, you would have liked her better I think." 

He turned around to look at her. She sat back on her heels, hands resting on her knees. 

"Are you saying you feel guilty because you deprived me of a more entertaining bath?" 

"Yes..." she paused thinking about it, "That is what I'm saying. Odd isn't it?" She quirked a smile at him. He didn't seem as frightening when he had that expression of surprise and disbelief strung across his features. It was almost funny. 

"I'd say so." He turned around again leaning against the edge. With his shoulders back and lowered she had a clearer view of his lap, and the water hid very little from this angle. The sight made her swallow hard. I could try it, she thought, looking at his lap warily...do what my sister does. It was so much bigger than the others though, even soft it lay heavily against his massive thigh like some sleeping serpent. And she'd only ever seen her sister do it, not done it herself. How would she even begin? She sighed. 

A sudden thought occurred to her. He seemed disappointed by the idea that he was sent virgins. Could it be because... 

"Sir," her hands were back on his shoulders, "what's so terrible about virgins?" 

"What isn't?" he rumbled. "I will never understand the human fascination with virgins. No other animal cares, hell most seem to go the other way entirely." He sighed and shook his head. "It makes no sense."

"Is there something else you'd prefer?"

"Damn right" he growled. She saw his member twitch beneath the water. She felt warm again, though this time she wasn't sure it was the wine. She recalled how flushed her sister had become when she was going to...to do that. She was sure why he wanted them, for the most obvious reason a man would want a dozen or so young women, and why a couple prostitutes might have been a better choice than twenty vestils. She hadn't thought about it knowing he was a giant. But now that he was a more...reasonable size, it was the only answer.

She was working down over his shoulders to his chest. As she moved down, her breasts grazed his back causing another much more noticeable shock to run through her. She could feel the colour rise in her face. Her lips felt dry and she ran her tongue over them. She noticed also that he was beginning to stiffen under the water.

He seemed to tense up under her, she had to keep him talking, relaxed, if this was going to work. She was certain this was the crux of his disappointment, and for everyone's sake she hoped she could diminish it. 

She pulled away slowly and stood, tucking her hem up into her belt so that her legs were bare from mid thigh down, and stepped into the tub, lowering herself onto her knees on the bench beside him. He gave her a look of alert weariness that bordered on alarm. She attempted to ignore it. 

"Well?" she asked as she matter of factly began massaging his legs, carefully avoiding touching him anywhere else. 

"Well what?" His voice rasped, sounding even thicker and deeper, which was impressive considering how deep it already was. The sound inflamed the growing warmth that had begun building inside her, and her body, especially her stomach and thighs, began to tingle with sensation. It wasn't totally unfamiliar, or unpleasant. She'd felt this way before, but it was another feeling entirely this close to another person, especially this creature, who hours before she thought might devour her. And he was so intimidating as it was. His sheer size and height was frightening, never mind the...other factors.

She tried to keep her hands from shaking.

"Well, is there someone, or something else that would have been better? Perhaps you might recall the guards and make a trade." Her hands were traveling up his thighs. She couldn't bear to look at him now, see him looking at her, but she heard him hold his breath. 

"Perhaps" He rasped again, his legs tensed to iron beneath her fingers and she heard a sharp intake of air as her thumbs grazed sensitive flesh at the base of his now very erect penis. She looked at it, staring openly; there was no reason not to. No going back. Not just because she thought she should. She didn't want to go back. She was surprised by how much she actually wanted to touch it, and by how its twitching incited her to keep going. It helped that she hadn't looked in his eyes. It was so long, and so thick, riddled with twisting veins, she'd never seen anything like it. Too big, far too big, she thought, suddenly apprehensive again. 

She breathed deeply and gently brushed the length of it with her finger tips. It sent shivers up and down her spine and straight between her legs. Too late now, she thought, and wrapped her fingers around the center of the long rigid shaft, squeezing gently. She was surprised and oddly pleased by its smooth silky texture, and the way it pulsed against her palms with a throbbing warmth. She dared a glance at his face. 

He was looking right back at her, his eyes dark and questioning, but he made no motion to stop her. She licked at her dry lips again and turned her attention back to the monster in her slender hand. She had never considered herself particularly dainty, but he made her hand look positively tiny. She thought of the giant serpent rumour she'd heard and chuckled inwardly. This might account for that. She ran her hand lightly up and down the shaft feeling it buck beneath her touch. She adjusted herself, sitting next to him, no longer caring if her dress was soaked and wrapped both hands around the dancing cock. She squeezed and tried to remember how Helena had done it. Helena had always used one hand, but that wouldn't suffice here as she couldn't get her fingers all the way around him, so she began slowly stroking the length of him with both hands, unsure of the effect. As she ran her hands up over the swollen head and back down over it again, squeezing gently she was rewarded with a low moan. She looked back again to see him sitting with eyes closed, and his lips slightly parted over those long teeth. They didn't seem to bother her so much anymore. She took heart and repeated the long slow stroke a few more times until his breathing become ragged. 




Sacrifice



She watched his face, fascinated by the almost pained expression there. He'd stop her if she hurt him, wouldn't he? His eyes opened into hers. They were dark again, and full of fiery energy. It was a different sort of darkness, and she belatedly recognized it as lust, though not before the gaze had sufficiently seared her insides. She turned her eyes away, unable to stand that look for long. Her hands had already increased their pace in response without urging and her thighs contracted in time with her hands. She tried to still them, but found it impossible. 

His hips slowly rose to meet her hands, exposing most of him to the air and revealing moisture that was clearly not water at the mushroomed tip. As she ran her hand over it she found it slick and it allowed her to move more easily over him. Watching intently while her hands slid over the smooth flesh she remembered her sister telling her that one of her friends had used her mouth on her husband. It had seemed strange at the time, but now the thought sent an excited thrill through her. 

One of his hands had moved to her back and was caressing the length of it through the thin fabric. Leaning in she mimicked the motion with her tongue and lapped from base to tip eliciting a gasping moan from him. It was a little strange, but it was also extremely exciting, touching him so intimately. She squeezed her thighs tighter causing a hot throb to course through her loins. Licking around the swollen head, she pressed her lips against the tip and slowly took him into her mouth, pulling as much inside her as possible, stretching her jaw as wide as she could. She didn't get very far before she was forced to stop and let out a chocked groan as she felt him pressing against the back of her throat. Her moan was accompanied by a low growl from above. 

She looked up. He was watching her again, his eyes burning into hers. This time she didn't look away, and let them sear into her making her tremble and her hands, still wrapped around his cock, shake. But her mouth still moved, sliding rhythmically and automatically over his now slick head. 

He kept his eyes locked on hers as he reached out and stroked her hair, threading his fingers through it. He gripped her head pulling her hair taunt against her skull. A shock of sensation that wasn't quite pain shot through her. She groaned low in her throat, and the vibrations made him shudder beneath her and his eyes rolled breaking their contact. She moaned again, this time intentionally and watched his rapturous expression, revelling in the sudden power. The more he growled and the harder he gripped her hair the more voraciously she tried to devour him with her tongue and hands. 

He pumped his hips against her mouth and she gripped his thighs to steady herself as she felt him stiffen even more against her tongue. She let out one more moan before he gasped and cried out thickly. She felt a pressure in her mouth and it was suddenly filled. She nearly gagged and had to swallow several times to keep from choking, finally pulling away with a gasp to see the remainder still leaking from the tip. She blinked up at him taking heavy breaths. 

He looked down at her as she panted in his lap, the fingers of one of his hands still loosely twined in her hair. 

She felt shaken and disoriented. What was she supposed to do now? He said nothing and just sat there looking at her. 

She became suddenly self-conscious. She was in disarray, her tidy pinned hair had come undone and hung in messy curls, she was half soaked, and her dress had begun to slip from her shoulders. His hand finally dropped from her hair. 

She pulled her dress back up, blushing, and did her best to re-pin her errant curls. Half way she froze as he slowly reached out and started pulling at the pins she was attempting to replace. She lowered her hand and held her breath as he pulled out the last pins and poured them from his palm onto the stone floor behind him. Her hair fell down around her shoulders in a mass of dark curls. 

She continued to watch him with bated breath through her loosened hair. She searched his face but he was unreadable and silent. She tried to remember what happened now, but her mind was a blur, and she was distracted by the combined heat of her arousal and embarrassment. 

She remembered that they would say something, something nice to her sister, then she'd laugh sweetly, but normally Caliope left her alone, and she wouldn't hear it from the other room. He was still watching her, why wouldn't he say something she wondered. Was he unhappy with her? Surely not, he seemed well enough pleased a moment ago. 

Again he said nothing, but he raised a hand to brush the hair from her face and cupped her cheek in one hand. His hand practically engulfed her but was extremely gentle, almost tender and she gave into the urge to move towards it. She sighed lightly, relieved and reassured that he'd finally acted. 

"You do that for your guests then?" His voice was soft, but held a fair amount of laughter. "N-no," she stuttered out, "not me...but my sister, sometimes...with her hands I mean..."She trailed off, her blush deepening. 

"First time?" 

She nodded, looking at her hands in her lap. 

"I hope it was adequate."

"Quite. You certainly don't lack enthusiasm." She nodded at her lap and began to rise, not being clear headed enough to think of something clever or endearing to say. But before she made it to her feet she was pulled off balance by a quick hand snaking around her waist and fell back into his readied arms as he too rose, taking their dripping bodies out of the bath. She wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself as he made for a side door. She must have weighed less than nothing to him because he was able to open the door easily and half tossed her onto a pile of skins and pillows near the back of the new room which looked much like the dining room, only without the long low table. She let out a yelp when he tossed her, and scrambled off the pile. He put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. 

"Where are you off to?" 

"I'm soaked, I'll get it all wet." She tried to gather the clinging material so that it would drip less on the rugs. He grinned at her. 

"Then why don't you take it off?" 

She paused then, forgetting her dripping self and looked up at him. His eyes were already roaming over her sprawled form, and his amused expression was replaced with another more fiery one. Apparently they weren't done. Hesitantly she got up on her knees, and shimmied the sticky wet cloth up her hips and over her head. She crossed her breasts with one arm in a vain attempt at modesty and held the damp mass in her other hand, unsure now of what to do with it. He solved that dilemma by taking it and tossing it in a heap on the stone floor. She wrapped both her arms around herself and shivered feeling the cool air and his eyes on her now bare skin. 

He loomed over her, glistening. The flickering torchlight turned his damp skin silver and gave his horns a metallic sheen. He looked like a temple statue to posidon or an idol of a river god. 

The statue shifted and knelt, the gold and silver returning to brown and grey, and he was suddenly very near, and very real. His body was close to hers, no more than a hands span away. And though he didn't touch her she could feel the nearness of him crawling across her skin making her hairs stand on end. She waited an eternity with ever quickening breath and stiff limbs for him to act. Finally, and with all the urgency of a melting candle, he moved, taking her by the shoulders and turning her, forcing her stomach first onto the rugs. She complied stiffly and lay her palms to the ground near her face, turning her head in frigid apprehension. She had a general idea of what was to happen next, but she wasn't that close to her married sisters to have a more detailed understanding. She supposed he intended to enter her...somehow, with that oversized staff of his. The thought made her squeeze her thighs together involuntarily. 

"Definitely a virgin." He sighed behind her. She began to push herself up to respond but she was met with two hands pushing her back down and kneading into her flesh, rubbing hard into her shoulder blades. The force pushed the breath right out of her and pinned her to the floor, but it did feel painfully good. He kept going moving roughly up and down her back with his massive hands until she could do nothing but go limp and malleable beneath him. She groaned as he captured her neck and her lower skull in one hand and gently squeezed three days of travel and fear from her body. She was half asleep by the time he reached her legs and did little more than blink in surprise as she felt his thumbs dip between her thighs, grazing the soft flesh between. 

Her mind may have been slow to respond, but the rest of her responded immediately. Her legs flexed and parted ever so slightly, enough to encourage a second, and third pass before her mind had cleared and she finally gasped as he kneaded her buttocks, sliding a thumb firmly along the length of her slit. 

Before she could tense again he turned her over, gripping her by the hips and pulling her downwards making her knees bend and spread, exposing her to him completely. He shifted himself, kneeling between her legs and cupping her backside with his massive hands. She was going to protest, but his mouth was already pulling other sounds from her before she had the chance. 

Gasping she watched in surprise as he forced his face between her legs, parting them with his broad shoulders and ran his tongue along the same path his thumb had taken seconds before. She felt an instant hot shiver as his wet tongue parted her and slid along the soft folds, pressing itself against the throbbing center. She pushed her hips against his mouth in order to feel that wonderful pressure deeper inside her, but he pulled away sliding his tongue higher, making her groan in frustration until he landed on a new spot. He pressed his mouth and tongue against her sensitive nub, pushing and sucking at it and wracking her body with spine twisting shocks of sensation. She was vaguely aware of the sharp points of his teeth digging lightly into her flesh, and the thought produced an erotic fear that accentuated the effects of his tongue, making her whole body contract and spasm. Her back felt as though it was about to snap as she convulsed under him and the pleasure of the sensation was rapidly turned into torture. 

She arched her hips encouraging him lower, but to no avail, and the only audible sounds she could produce were incoherent half words that died into whimpers. Finally she put her hand against his head and pushed down, attempting to force him back towards the unattended and now aching center. He complied, if slowly, chuckling against her, sending more warm shivers down her legs. She watched him through lust glazed eyes enjoying the strange but erotic sight of his long tongue darting out between his teeth to stab gently at her now slick flesh. His tongue pierced her folds easily, and she writhed beneath him trying to force him deeper. She wondered and hoped that he had felt such pleasure when she had tried to attend to his needs. If he had felt half of what she was feeling than she must have made him very happy indeed. Never had she felt anything so incredible, so intense. She wondered if it could even be called pleasure...yet she did not wish to see it end, not for the world.

He pushed against her in response when she wriggled even harder against his wonderful mouth, thrusting his tongue slowly in and out of her swollen, sensitized flesh. All she could think about was getting more of him inside her, as if there was some terrible unreachable place demanding satisfaction. She shifted her grip on his head, sliding her hand against one of his ridged horns and pressing it between two splayed fingers. She ran the tips of her fingers over it as she imagined with closed eyes something of a similar shape pressed elsewhere. 

And, as if by magic, his still stabbing tongue was joined by first one, then two fingers, which he slid slowly inside of her as his tongue lapped again at the sensitive swollen crest. There was an initial discomfort as he pushed the first finger into her and a hot, sharp pain that made her gasp and bite back a whimper, yet even so,his fingers moved easily covered in her slick wetness. It still took her a moment to adjust to the tight stretching pain as he plummeted into her, forcing his thick fingers knuckle deep, making her burn and grunt softly in pain. She let out another low groan as his finger tips paused and curved inside of her, pressing against the walls, and caressing some wonderful hidden place inside of her, before slowly sliding out. His tongue still worked at her, and the sensations distracted her somewhat from the discomfort. 

He repeated the curving, thrusting motion, gradually increasing his speed until she began grinding against his hand. Despite the hot sear as he stretched her, she found that every time he pulled from her, she was anxious to have him back, and began to delight in the friction his fingers caused. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist in an attempt to pull him against her, her mind empty of all but one thought. 

"More." she whispered hoarsely, pulling at his steady hand as she trembled uncontrollably. He was on top of her now, leaning over her, one hand by her shoulder steadying himself, the other still working between her slick thighs. He leaned down and brushed his lips against her jaw, tracing it and following the line of her throat with his tongue. His skin, where she gripped him at the wrist, and at his neck where her hand had slid as he moved over her, was cool to the touch, but his mouth was burning hot. He moved lower with his fiery tongue, etching a path to the valley of her breasts. He brushed one breast with his lips, his teeth scraping lightly against the inner curve, before sliding his tongue over the hard nipple. Her breath came in shaking gasps as he began to use her breast as he had her sex, sucking and pulling at it with his mouth and teeth, making her squirm and writhe even more fitfully. 

He pulled his mouth away and dragged it over her throat and chin, hovering over her mouth. "What was that you said?" 

She didn't have the faintest idea...had she said something. She gave him a questioning look in between whimpers. 

"Something about, more?" 

Yes more. Absolutely more. 

"Yes." She agreed throatily, "yes, please." 

His hand moved off from her landing by her head. She gave it a mournful look and ground her hips against a phantom hand, only to find it too had been replaced. 

She felt that mixture of fear and excitement that was becoming very familiar and caught her breath in anticipation. 

He pressed forward, sliding the very hard, very hot head of his penis along the wet folds, pressing ever so slightly into the center. She bit her lip and spread her thighs a little wider, opening up beneath him. Her hand slid between their bodies, finding the shaft and sliding it back and forth along her slit until the tip was pressed firmly against the opening. He pushed into her, and she felt the head slide past her fingers and work its way with a few short thrusts inside of her. 

It's too big she thought as the stretched virgin flesh sent out waves of aching pain. It felt as though her sides would split and she'd be torn in half. She moaned and tilted her head, brushing her lips inadvertently against his, sending more erotic shivers through her. The shivers distracted her from the aching, and she made another pass at his lips, this time pressing her mouth against his, not caring that she didn`t know what she was doing only that it felt wonderful. He didn't move or respond except to part his lips slightly, which she took as an invitation and kissed him more fully, her mouth parting with his. She felt the tip of his tongue graze her lips and she reciprocated eagerly sliding her tongue fully into his mouth and rubbing it against his. He let out a growl and forced her tongue back, possessing her mouth and pressing down hard against hers. She let out a surprised and excited sound and sucked at his tongue without thinking as he made love to her mouth, thrusting into her in an unabashed display of his immediate intentions elsewhere. In her excitement she'd barely noticed him slowly edging inside her until he was nearly pressed against the deepest wall of her sex and had begun to withdraw. Her hand reached for the base of his cock to prevent his withdrawal, inexplicably enjoying the strange but exciting feeling of being so completely filled despite the terrible ache it caused. He intercepted her hand and pinned her arm above her head. 

"Do you want more or not?" His voice was harsh sounding and low, and it rumbled through her again like it had that first time. She nodded. 

"Do you?" She parroted. 

He paused a moment and gave her a cockeyed grin. "Yes, please." 

She let out a broken laugh as he began to re-enter her, stretching the tender flesh all over again. She winced against the ache, but lifted her hips to meet him nonetheless. That burning place had yet to be satisfied. 

"Are you in pain?" 

"A little." It was much more than a little. Her voice sounded raw and breathless. 

"I don't suppose you're going to beg me to stop?" 

She shook her head. He was pressing against the deep wall, this time harder, and the pressure made her cramp. One of his hands had begun toying with her breasts, creating more of those warm and blessed shivers of sensation. 

"That's good" he said brushing his knuckles against the undersides of her breasts. "Because you're a sweet girl and I'd hate to rape you." 

"You'd do that?" She asked, insensibly rocking her hips against his, and pressing her breast into his hand. 

"I might. I'm not a nice person...perhaps I should enlighten you..." He pinched one of her nipples, a little hard, but she instantly wanted him to do it again. 

"Perhaps...perhaps you might find a more...productive use for...your mouth." She looked at him with glazed eyes, and he gave her a heart stopping look in return. 

"As you wish my lady." And with that his mouth was at hers devouring her mouth, her throat, and finally was at her breasts. She rewarded him with an approving squeeze at the back of his neck, and gripped his skull and horns as he ravaged her. 

He pumped into her more aggressively now, and she ground against him, each shock sliding further from pain towards pleasure until he gripped her and forced himself completely inside of her with a sharp stab of pain. She cried out, clutching at him and wrapping her legs tightly around him, but he continued to thrust into her with greater need, moving more and more deeply, his tongue all over her body. Again the pain mingled with pleasure until it all blurred into a white heat. It was as if she felt everything and nothing. She had trouble discerning where one caress began and another violent thrust ended. She felt him moving above her, his huge muscles straining beneath her hands and at her mouth as she licked and nipped at his rough skin feeling an undeniable urge to feel and taste every part of him. She felt his moans as much as she heard them, vibrating through her body as he pressed against her, covering her and burying himself inside her. He was everywhere, and it felt as if there was nothing left of the world beyond their two straining bodies. 

She was close to something, to that unreachable place, and she rocked her hips faster against him, grunting as their bodies slammed together. Her hips meet his thrusts coming closer and closer with each jarring shock. He laced his fingers through her loose hair and gripped her again, leveraging himself into her and sending a blinding heat through her making her hips jerk beneath him. His own cry tore from his throat as she shook beneath him, and she felt herself suddenly filled, if that were any more possible, and was overcome by a series of wrenching spasms that made her clutch at the skins under her and gasp for air. She twitched delirious as the throbbing inside of her sent hot waves of pleasure and relief through her trembling body. 




Sacrifice



The waves gradually slowed and she was, eventually, able to catch her breath. She looked up as her eyes came back into focus and watched him catch his own breath. Still inside her, he rolled over with a sigh, taking her with him pressing their sweat slicked bodies together with his free arm. 

Her head rested on his arm, her cheek pressed against the hard ridge of his chest. She slid a hand along the groove, trailing it down to his stomach and pressed her hand against it, exploring the firm lines of the knotted muscles with her finger tips. His free arm released her to smooth over the length of her side, caressing her waist and hip. She turned her face to his find his eyes closed. 

She smiled softly and ran her fingers over his cheek and thick jaw. His lips curved under her hand. He wasn't asleep yet she thought. 

"What's your name?" He didn't open his eyes, but his hand still moved over her. 

"Caliope" she answered softly. 

"Like the muse." 

"Yes." 

"That's lovely." 

Her smile widened, those words seemed incongruous on his lips. 

"Thank you." 

He cracked an eye at her. "You're welcome." 

"And yours?" 

"Thelios. But don't tell anyone, I have a reputation to keep." 

"Also lovely." 

He had a warm reverberating laugh that made her curl her body tighter against his. 

"You really have no fear of me do you?" He asked, nuzzling the top of her head. 

"As I told you before, I'm terrified." 

"I have trouble believing that." 

"You'll just have to take my word for it I suppose." 

"Hmm." 

Her eyes lids felt weighted and she found herself unable to remain conscious and drifted off quickly into a deep sleep.



Sacrifice and Other Lusty Sins



You walk into your lofty apartment, the door closing behind you, and drop your purse on the ground as though, if it weighed more than a ton of bricks. You think to yourself, "Why must people be so hard on those who serve them?", "It is not as though you are taking their orders, having it made especially for them, then delivering it to them where they sit, while they wait, no they have to be very rude about the slightest thing.". You sigh out loud and drift into your home, your feet heavy; you trudge towards the answering machine as per your daily routine. One message awaits you, "Probably a bill collector." you think to yourself but, press the button anyways just to be certain.

"Hey baby, just me, calling to say hello and see how your day was, I will see you around seven for dinner ok? Talk to you soon." Click. Suddenly the woes of the day drift from your mind, happiness taking over, oh what a sweet heart he is, to call and make it all better without even really knowing you had a bad day. Lighter on your feet now you drift into the shower and wash away the stench of cigarettes and overly spiced foods.

The warm water drifting over your body, you casually go through the usual routine, soaping up and scrubbing away the day. As your hands brush past your breasts, your mind drifts to him, you wonder what it would be like for his hands to be there, for his fingers to caress you. Your mind snaps back, no, you must control yourself, you have waited a long time for the right guy to come along and be the one to take your innocence, you refuse to allow lust to consume you. You rush through the rest of the shower, not wanting to relive your thoughts, but as you dry off you wonder to yourself why now, did you finally start wondering what that would feel like; usually you never even consider it.

You go into the living room and put on some music, some nice upbeat music to dance to while you clean up the mess from days of procrastination. You sway your hips as you play with the dishes that have been piling up for too long.

Before long you hear the buzzer for your apartment, and drift over to it, knowing exactly who it is, "Yes?" you tease with a playful tone.

"'Tis me. You were expecting perhaps your other boyfriend?" He jokes; you can hear his joyous laughter through the voice buzzer.

"Yes, but your here so come on up I will settle for you for now, at least until he gets here."

Laughter again, "Well why don't you come down I have a surprise for you."

Curiosity consumes you, he has not said anything about a surprise, "hmmmm, ok well I guess he can wait, I will be right down." You race out the door, barely taking time to slip on your shoes. You catch the elevator, pressing the button a million times, wondering to yourself if it actually makes it come sooner, or just makes you feel that way.

You glide out of the elevator, across the foyer, and out the door anxious to see what little surprise your honey had planned for you. You feel him wrap a piece of cloth across your eyes and whisper to you, "You can't see until we get there!"

"Get there, where are you taking me?" you ask, almost scared.

He just whisks you to his waiting car, and then carefully, he guides you inside, then after walking around to the other side, eases away from the safety of your home, and heads off wherever it is he is taking you. After almost an hours drive, the sounds of the city long ago leaving your ears, leaving the sound of your breath, heartbeat, and his car. The odd conversations you try to strike up are slightly uncomfortable as the only thing on your mind is where he is taking you.

You feel his car slow to a stop, he tells you that he will return for you in a moment, the door opens, then closes, the trunk opens and then quiet. You hear him open the door, and guide you out of the car, after what seemed like ten minutes of waiting. He slowly guides you along a walkway, a boardwalk you muse, judging by the unevenness and the creaking it makes. Then he guides you across some sand, the small, fine grains of sand seeping into your now apparently poorly chosen footwear. Finally he slows you to a stop, you feel him slip in around you and take off the blindfold.

As your eyes focus on the darkness around you, a barely audible "uh" escapes your lips. Awe takes over you as you take in your surroundings; the crystal blue waves ease up the shoreline, making only enough noise so as to make the surroundings more comfortable, the stars brightly shining all around you. The beach curving around a bend seems to open up in just this spot for this special evening. The trees that line the beach are sparsely spread out, not too closed in, the grass grown long seems to sparkle as fireflies dance around them as if to accent the mood lighting from the distant moon in the clear sky.

You look to your feet and see a blanket spread out with an assortment of foods, mostly salads and sandwiches, but it is not the food that matters, it is the thought. You turn around to see him finally, you stare into his loving blue eyes, watch him smile as you try so hard to scorn at him for scaring you, but can only just hug him. As your arms hold him tight, a sense of safety and welcome ness fills your mind, you feel comfortable in his arms and never want to let go, but you do.

He sits down on the blanket, one knee in the air, and the other spread out, his usual comfortable position. You gently ease yourself up to him so that you are sitting between his legs; you're back to him, so that you will still be in his arms, which he happily wraps around your waist.

You casually sit and eat together, discussing how good the food is and how he is far too sweet to you, and of course how he should not have put this much effort into this.

As you and he settle back after eating, still gently talking, but now about the evening, the stars, the scenery, you turn slightly so that you are half facing him. You stare into his eyes as you listen to him talk, his words seeming to fade out of your mind until it is more of an unsteady hum then words. You ease in close and softly kiss his mouth, his words instantly stopping; he looks into your eyes, then softly kisses you back. Shivers travel down your spine, sensations you have never felt before flood over you and you kiss him deeper this time, gently you slowly open your mouth, his opening slightly to match.

Being a conservative type woman, you had rarely even kissed men, and now you were about to French kiss one, but it didn't seem to bother you, it just seemed right. You slowly ease your tongue to touch with his, and as they do, more shivers run down your spine, the soft sensual touch of his tongue against yours feeling wonderful to you. His left hand softly finds it's way to your face, gently, as though to reach out to you with his heart and touch you with it while he kissed you. Your eyes close and you kiss him more, more your tongues dance, and slowly you ease your delicate little hand up to his rough face, the bristles lightly brushing against your hand, you slide it up and run your fingers delicately through the side of his hair.

His right hand slowly drifts up to your face, then slides gently along to your hair and brushes through it, gently combing the top of your head sending soothing sensations throughout your entire body. Your mind drifts as you take in the sensations of his gentle, soothing, touch. You pull your lips away from his, gently leaving a breath between the two of you and whisper to him, "Just, be gentle.", then gently press your lips to his.

He gently wraps his arm around your waist and shifts his leg, so as to slowly ease you backwards. You feel him lightly push you backwards, and let him, still kissing him, your hands delicately touching his face. Slowly he lays you backwards, never allowing the kiss to end, if only for an instant. As your head lays down into the sand, the feeling of fine grains of sand in your hair never felt so good.

Finally he allows your kiss to end, his face not daring to leave more than a breath between the two of you, he shifts so as to gently kiss your forehead, soothing any final hesitations you have. Gently he kisses down your forehead, across your eyebrows, down the sides of your face; gently he kisses your ears, ensuring to blow lightly on them to accent the pleasure. You close your eyes and feel your eyes roll back in your head, the pleasure surmounting anything you ever imagined. His lips finally meet with yours again as desire begins to consume you, your tongues dance readily now, passionately kissing each other you place your hand behind his head, entangling it in his short hair, and pull him closer to you desiring to kiss deeper and deeper.

You feel his strong hands drift to the buttons on your shirt, finally ready to reveal all to him, you stop his hand and ease him off of you rolling him onto his back. You roll over on top of him and sit up, your knees on either side of him as you sit on his toned stomach. Sensually you undo each and every button on your shirt, slowly, nervously revealing to the night air that which no one has seen. He watches as you undo the last button and ease it back off your shoulder and drop your blouse on the blanket. You reach behind and softly unhook your bra and let if fall off of you to his chest, where he pulls it aside placing it with your shirt.

"So, am I everything you expected?", you shyly ask, hoping for something really romantic to sweep you off your feet and back into the sensual stuff you are already missing.

"I never looked to be honest, I wanted to respect your wishes so I kept my hormones in check, but from this perspective you are absolutely fantastic.", and he is right, as you sit there, your nudity exposed to the moonlight, the light shining off of you makes you appear to emit a glow around yourself, your hair sparkling in the night air, the wind lightly tossing it to one side.

You blush and slip off to the side of him again, so that he can resume where he was, curious to see what he would do next. Rolling over he resumes kissing you, his hand now gently caressing your face. Soon his kisses travel downwards to your neck, the intimacy of his kisses now consuming your mind, all conscious thought outside of the two of you drifting away.

His kisses drift down and across your neck then slowly down your chest, lusty images of him sucking on your breasts cross your mind, and you hope with all your might that he fulfills that for you, your breasts now tingling with anticipation, awaiting his sensual mouth. His mouth travels down the centre of your chest, the bristles of his lightly unshaven beard scraping across your tender breast creating a delightful mix of pleasure and pain. His kisses tenderly drift underneath your breasts, half kissing them half kissing beside them, his hand finally finding its way to your breast, the pleasure forcing a moan from your lips.

Slowly he kisses up your breasts towards your sensual peak, teasing you with how close he gets with his tongue, before finally giving in to your desire, again forcing out a moan. Sensually his tongue dances across your nipple, appeasing it with the pleasure that it has been aching for, sending spikes of lightning down your spine. You moan again as he sucks your flesh into his mouth, the pleasure spiking again your body feeling numb from the excessive pleasure. Shifting he drifts over to the other breast and pleasures it in much the same manner before returning to your mouth and kissing you more.

After taking a moment to clear the haze in your head from the bliss he caused you, you slide your hand down his side to his belt and grab hold of his shirt, pulling it up and out of his pants, then slip your hand up underneath to run your hands over his chest. As you push your hands further up the shirt begins to chafe him and he stops kissing you, though only long enough to pull it over his head.

Lust taking over you push him over again and roll on top of him; you kiss him on his chest, allowing your carnal urges to control you. Roughly you kiss him again and again trying desperately to pleasure him in a way that you felt but can't seem to find a spot that does so. Still kissing him your hand slips over his fleshy member between his legs and imagery enters your mind. You have heard about blow jobs but have never even touched a penis before, let alone sucked one, but you know this is something you want to do. You undo his belt and button, and then release his zipper before finally separating his pants and pulling aside his underwear.

The sight of his stiffened flesh forces a gasp from your mouth, hesitation strikes you, you don't know what to do but know that you are going to pleasure him no matter what it takes. You start by gripping it near the bottom and slowly licking the top part, instinctually knowing that it would be a centre of pleasure. As you lick you get to know the spots that seem to make him enjoy it the most then lick them and suck them to pleasure him. Enjoying the pleasure you provide him, you go forward and try to give him more, wrapping your mouth around his flesh you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, then slide back to the top. Taking him into your mouth again you stop near the bottom and let your tongue move across his tender skin, a moan escaping his lips you know you are doing right and you continue to take him in and out of your mouth, tonguing his sensitive flesh until your mouth tires.

Standing up in front of him, you undo the button on your jeans, the zipper, and let them fall to the ground, pushing your panties to the ground with them exposing you completely to the night air, this time the gasp escaping from his lips. You watch as he pushes off his pants and lies back in front of you. Setting whatever little nervousness you have about this aside, you move forward and sit down again on his abs. Kissing him again, now both of you deeply consumed with passion, the kisses are deep and hard, tongues dancing frantically you are both beyond ready for this and you both know it.

You slowly ease your hips backwards until you can feel his flesh underneath your untouched flower. Raising your hips a little you reach your hand down and guide his flesh to yours, struggling slightly to find where it goes, but finally do and place it at the opening. He whispers to you to go slowly at first, so you do, and lightly press down with your hips until the tip of his penis fills your insides. The stretching of the walls hurting slightly, the pleasure of him finally filling you numbing the pain. Slowly you slide him further and further until you feel him pressing against a barrier, knowing you can't be that small of a hole you press against him and feel your self rip something inside, panic strikes you, and not sure what is wrong. You look to him and see that he is looking to you to reassure you it is ok, and the panic subsides. You wait for the pain the drift away, not wanting to hurt yourself anymore.

Slowly you ease the rest of him inside, holding at the bottom to take in the pleasure from his flesh being inside of you, the feeling of the walls of your pussy being so stimulated. You sit up so that you are on your knees, perpendicular to him and pull yourself upwards, so that he eases almost all the way out of you, then slowly you sit down again, the pain this time far less then the last, but the pleasure far better then ever before. Eager for more you do it again, this time the pain no more than a distant memory you fully enjoy the pleasure of his flesh rubbing against yours, the feeling of him filling your insides forcing a moan from your delicate lips.

After slipping him in and out of you for a short while the desire for him on top of you takes over your mind, and you submit, pulling yourself close to him you begin to pull him over on top of you, and he pushes you the rest of the way, eager to pleasure you. Slowly he eases himself in and out of you, something about the way he does so pleasuring you more so then when you had done it yourself, the pleasure seeming to amplify with each thrust. Your eyes roll back in your head as he thrusts slowly and deeply inside of you, moans now escaping almost constantly from your lips you let go control of your body and let your mind just enjoy the bliss from the moment.

Your hips begin to press against his, helping him to pleasure you, build to whatever is coming. You feel his hand reach down between the two of you to your pierced flower; you wait to see what he is going to do. His finger finds your clit, slowly rubbing the tip of his finger across it as he eases himself in and out of you. Pleasure spikes throughout your body, moans from your lips now louder then ever before, you feel it building immensely inside of you collecting with that which had started from the thrusting from him, collecting for something special inside of you.

His pace quickens, both in his finger and in his thrusts, harder and harder he thrusts into you, your moans louder with each one, faster and faster he fingers you, more and more your pleasure builds. Bliss consuming your mind you await the sensation you feel is coming. Finally he thrusts deep inside of you, cumming into your insides, filling you with it, that thrust finally being everything you need the pleasure you had built up inside explodes, consuming your entire body in it intensity, you feel numb as you are engulfed in pleasure, you shake and convulse, screaming from the immensity, every muscle in your body tenses, your back arches and your mind goes blank.

You awake to the sensation of his fingers running lightly through your hair, your body still weak from the experience, you stare up to the stars and wonder if anyone out there had ever experienced anything like that. You look up to him and he leans forward and kisses you, you both know this won't be the last.