0 comments/ 12997 views/ 1 favorites Megan's Crescent Moon Atonement By: badger_ravenmoon This is a work of pure fiction. Any relation between the events and characters herein and reality is coincidence and may the gods help anyone who has done anything like this. This first story is “slow-burn” because I am first and foremost a storyteller. Later stories will assume an understanding of the Way, and will be a little more fast-burn. Also be aware, the “Way” in my stories is NOT Wicca, witchcraft, Satanism, or any other religious path anyone knows. It is an amalgamate of my own creation, a venue for certain events that are only possible in my mind or on some secret island I own *kidding* The light of the first lunar sliver cast a pale and eerie glow as the white robe acolyte climbed the small tor to the circle of stones. No words spoke, whether from fear of the High Priestess’ harsh discipline or simply being out of breath. She contemplated the potential Tasks and Trials before her, but since this was the first time she had climbed Goshawk Tor, all of her energy was being forced to maintaining footing in the slightly loose soil that comprised the winding trail. If the acolyte was focused on the climb itself, the High Priestess leading her was focused on the acolyte. Ashwhip could walk the tor in her sleep, but this student was slow and the noise of her breathing aggravated more deeply than her usual bitching and complaining. When most students came to study at the Isla Morgana School for Girls, they were properly fearful and showed respect for the priests and priestesses. But this one, this Megan, she was the daughter of a former High Priest, and she prowled the grounds with a sense of entitlement. Yes, she had skills. She could do candle magick better than some of the initiates, and her amulets positively glowed with power. But that did not change the fact that she was a Closed Vessel, the only one as a matter of fact. For some ungodly reason, her father had seen fit to teach her how to do workings and cast spells, but had not seen it as his duty to bring her to the full sense of what a woman’s role was in the Way. The Way. Ashwhip’s feet faltered as she thought of how much she herself had needed to learn simply to exist in this world. When she had arrived, she had been afraid that death awaited her, and several times it could have. On three distinct occasions, she had required intervention from ranking members of the Priesthood to prevent expulsion or worse. But Megan thought she knew it all. That would change after tonight. Ashwhip knew what awaited them at the summit. Within the circle stood an altar. Even now, less than half way up, Ashwhip could see the glow of torches, steady and low. There would be no wind tonight, she thought, looking skyward to see emptiness save the barest sliver of crescent moon. The preparation for this night’s events had begun three weeks earlier, when the High Priest had asked the Council of Clergy to either break Megan’s will or force her to leave. Apparently, Megan’s attitude and behavior had reached even the Alabaster Hall, where the High Priest stayed. The Council had decided that the best solution was to take from Megan that thing that made her most unique: her status as Closed Vessel. But she was a Hereditary, and that complicated things because the only person of sufficient status to take her Closed Vessel status from her was a High Priest, but the High Priest was not going to leave the Alabaster Hall. The decision to carry out the plan meant contacting another High Priest. This had of course been done, and he had agreed to assist. His arrival had been kept secret, as had nearly all aspects of the night’s planned events. Only that part that would bring Megan along had been “accidentally” told. Megan listened carefully for any sign of reproach from Ashwhip. “The bitch always seemed to have it in for me,” she thought. “Every time I say or do anything, there she is with that damned whip of hers.” Megan looked down and saw the still-fresh welts on her breasts from that morning when Megan had nodded off during Morning Devotions. Could she help it that the acolyte dormitory was too hot to sleep in, so she had wandered the grounds most of the night? “I swear,” she thought, “if my father saw how they treated me, he would commit the Act of Cleansing on all of them.” But still, Ashwhip was also her staunchest defender, often intervening when a Priest would demand discipline for infractions of the Code, explaining just who Megan was. Megan thought back to last week, when Rev. Desmond had tried to whip her for not being in the House of Cleanliness. Ashwhip had told Rev. Desmond something, and he relented immediately. What had been said, Megan did not know, and really, did not care either. “Damn priests do not seem to realize who I am,” she muttered. “Did you say something,” Ashwhip hissed. “No, lady, nothing,” was the quick reply. “We are past the halfway mark, Megan. When you see the Twin Pillars, you know what to do, right?” “Yes, lady, I pull my hood up, put my hands in front of my face and you lead me the rest of the way,” Megan whispered, mostly due to being winded. “Right, and I will use the Bonding Cord you have around your waist right now. I will make sure you do not stumble, because tonight, your mind must be clear of all fear. Fear will make everything far worse than it should be,” Ashwhip told her gently. The feeling of pity that was rising was swallowed hard and fast. Megan had brought this on herself, and there was no reason to feel sorry for her. Of course, if she had not come to the Isla as she had, if her status had been like all the other girls here, things would never have happened as they did. But that water has come to the ocean now, and Megan must both atone for her past actions, and be cleansed for her future. So, all that remained was the Now. The remainder of the climb was quiet, both because Ashwhip made sure to not say anything else herself, and because Megan was trying to quash the rising ball of acid in her belly. One of the other acolytes told her than strange things happened on Goshawk Tor, things like nowhere else on Isla Morgana. Stephanie told her that she had heard the Elders practiced blood sacrifices on Goshawk. Andrea said her mom had told her that girls who climb the Goshawk sometimes never return. The Twin Pillars had stood atop Goshawk Tor for six hundred years, since Alfred Godrick, the founder of Isla Morgana School for Girls had placed them to hold the gate blocking entrance to the circle of stones. The circle of stones had been there when Alfred built the school, and the Old Ones told him that the stones had been there for at least eight thousand years. The left pillar was alabaster and the right obsidian, creating the light/dark contrast that was so central to all the teachings of the school. On each pillar was carved runes and sigils of power, some in languages not spoken in this world. The white pillar was called Tempus, the black pillar called Terra. The gate had long ago fallen away, but the idea of the gate remained and none of the acolytes, nor even many of the initiates, ever crossed the threshold of the Twin Pillars. When Megan saw the pillars before her, her knees buckled. She did not cry out in pain when she fell though, because it was not pain that had caused her fall. As she had been walking, her fear had been steadily rising. She had consciously slowed her gait to avoid reaching this point. But Ashwhip showed no concern. She bent over and undid Megan’s cord, helped her rise again to her feet, raise the hood and then bound her hands before her face with the cord. She also stuffed cotton padding into the hood around Megan’s ears so she could neither see nor hear. After assuring herself that Megan was effectively deaf and blind, she shrugged off her green robes, under which she was naked except her priestess medallion and sandals. She gave the cord a slight tug and Megan’s feet went into a slow forward motion. The distance from the Twin Pillars to the circle was 243 feet, signifying nine yards for the Sacred Space multiplied by nine yard for the Sacred Time. It was enough distance to twist and turn the person coming in, but small enough that the High Priest standing at the altar saw them approaching. Ashwhip made great efforts to make Megan walk in a circuitous path, enough to ensure that Megan had no idea where she was by the time they stood in the ring of stones. “Who comes forth on the First Night of the Sickle,” asked the High Priest solemnly. “A Priestess and another.” “What draws another to the Circle of Stones?” “Correction and atonement.” “Why does the Priestess come?” “To bring the atoning acolyte and to assist His Greatness.” “Does the Priestess wish name the acolyte?” “The priestess wishes the High Priest to name her after the atonement is completed.” “What name does the priestess wish to give?” “Ashbeam.” “Remove the cord and destroy the robes, then secure the penitent to the altar.” Ashwhip removed the cord and cotton, and then physically ripped the robes from Megan’s body, exposing her to the chill air. The High Priest had faded into the shadows of the torchlight, and Megan knew at least part of the reason. She pulled Megan forward toward the altar, but her fear was too much, and she held herself back. “It will be worse if you defy the High Priest. I cannot speak in your defense tonight. If you defy Him, you will no longer be allowed in the school.” Megan still shook in fear. The altar, hundreds of years old, looked stained and cold. Stephanie’s words about blood sacrifices were ringing in her ears. “Defying the High Priest,” she thought. “If I don’t, He is going to kill me.” “Megan, I am telling you, this is for your betterment. The more relaxed and well-behaved you are, the easier this will be and the faster it will be over.” Megan could not force herself to move, but she nodded her head that she understood Ashwhip’s words. The fact that her limbs would not respond was not going to change though. “Lady, I cannot move for fear. I want to obey, but my body is resisting.” “Do you want me to move you myself?” “Lady, if you can, push me. Whip me, beat me, flail me, lady, but please move me.” Ashwhip smiled internally. She drew her whipping rod from her cast off robes and lit it severely across Megan’s buttocks. As the ash rod struck, Megan jumped forward toward the altar. The process was repeated six times until finally Megan’s ass was reddened, but her body was at the altar. Ashwhip put aside the whip and secured Megan to the altar, arms spread over her head and legs spread and tied to the base of the altar. Ashwhip retreated slightly to the perimeter of the circle, just within the light of the torches, and there she waited. The only sounds to be heard atop Goshawk Tor were Megan’s ragged breathing, sobbing mixed with attempts to stop, and the nighttime calls of owls and bats, but Megan’s senses were trying to keep her sane. She looked skyward, her head nestled into a well-worn groove in the stone so firmly that she could not turn it at all, and saw the stars twinkling back. Her ears against the stone were limiting her hearing to her own noises. She saw the glow of the torches but not the torches themselves. She smelled her fear in the sweat under her arms and tasted it running down her face. Her only comfort was that the stone no longer felt cold. She lay there, rigid, waiting for the end. Stephanie would certainly tell everyone how Megan had been sacrificed on the Tor tonight, and word would reach her father. That thought comforted her. “Daddy will make sure they suffer.” Suddenly, there was a drumming that seemed to be coming from the ground itself. It vibrated through the altar and shook Megan out of her self-absorption. THOOOM-----THOOOM-----THOOOM-----THOOOM! A pause that seemed to last an age. THOOOM-----THOOOM-----THOOOM-----THOOOM! Another pause. THOOOM-----THOOOM-----THOOOM-----THOOOM! The light from the torches changed from yellow to orange to blood red. THOOOM-----THOOOM-----THOOOM-----THOOOM! The air changed and became warmer, as though a fire was being fanned toward her. THOOOM-----THOOOM-----THOOOM-----THOOOM! A cold wind blew the heat away from the north and Megan felt the sweat on her breasts chill her. Thumpa-thumpa-thumpa-thumpa-thump-THOOOM! Megan was paralyzed with fear as the drumming sped up and them stopped suddenly. She heard a voice she thought she recognized above her head. “Come gather spirits, behold this night. For tonight, blood must be spent and freely given.” Megan sobbed. “Atonement must be made and errors remedied.” She sobbed harder. “Behold the Tools of the Rite of Atonement.” Across Megan’s breast was lain an earthen disc. Atop her abdomen was placed a twelve-inch dagger. Just above her exposed vulva, a metal cauldron was placed. Between her spread legs, a pair of hands placed a wooden rod, which Megan recognized immediately as a Firebrand Wand. “Reading from the Book of Life: The Creator came forth into the Valley, where She saw all that had been lain waste. She looked for the one who had done this, but could find no one, as they had destroyed themselves. And the Creator wept. She called out to Her Mate and said, ‘See, that which I have created has been destroyed. Such as it is with things made softly. But see too, I will make again, but you shall govern. So it shall be from henceforth. A Creator shall make, but a Man shall rule.’” Megan knew immediately that she had to respond. “As it was, is and ever shall be.” “Reading from the Book of Order: The Master came forth into the Valley, made by my Mate the Creator. The women suitably obeyed their mates and were docile and humble before all above them. But there was one who did not. She was neither humble nor obedient. She refused her mates’ advances, and did them verbal abuses. The Master became incensed by this and did come unto the High Priest and told him, ‘Bring to my Temple this unnatural woman, that she may be corrected and make atonement for her offenses, for she does and speaks beyond her allotted station.’ And the High Priest went out into the town and brought the woman bodily to the Temple of the Master, where she was shown the error of her ways, that she would go forth in no further abeyance of the Master’s Will.” Megan again responded, “As it was, is and ever shall be.” “Atoner, your Elders have commanded you be brought before me.” Silence. “You do not respond?” Silence. Ashwhip trembled slightly. She had not foreseen this. She lifted her amulet from the her breast and began rubbing it, praying, “Great Master, Source of Order, visit her and give her the words. If you are merciful, move her lips and tongue.” The amulet glowed purple in the red torchlight as Ashwhip kept rubbing and praying. “You do not respond,” the High Priest repeated, more incredulous. Still silence. “The Book of Order proscribes your fate if you chose to remain defiant.” There was a hint of menace and anger in his voice. Stone silence. As Ashwhip rubbed her amulet so hard she thought it would burst into flames, she heard a sound, from this distance, no more than a whisper. “I have been in error,” Megan croaked from her parched mouth. “In my error, I have set myself above my station and defied the will of He Who Set Order to the World.” The High Priest let a sigh. “Your error is in you and must be purged.” Silence again. The High Priest waited, sensing words would come. “My error is within me, and I beg you to make me atone.” “Your error is within you, and you will atone. Where in you do you know the error to be?” Megan shook visibly. “Lord, my error is within my mouth.” “Megan, do you possess other errors?” More confident now that she would not be killed yet, she began to recognize the Order of the Rite. “Lord, the error is of me and in me. I must be expunged of all that is about me.” “I call forth the Priestess.” Ashwhip came out of the shadows, on her hands and knees. When she reached the altar, she raised her body and sat back on her heels, knees spread widely, hands on her knees. “Priestess, tell me of this one’s offences.” “Lord, the atoner is possessed of a singularly vicious tongue, one which knows no limits. She is quick to respond, though slow to learn. She knows much Arcane, but little mundane of our world. Her heart is pure of Spirit and Power, and yet cold in its beliefs above station. And lastly, in defiance of the Way, she has passed her age of maturity and yet remains a Closed Vessel.” “Priestess, do you swear before Master and Maker that you bear this acolyte no grudge?” “Lord, I bear her Love.” “Do you wish to tell her anything before she is corrected and makes atonement?” “I do, Lord.” “Then speak, and I will remain silent.” “Megan, you were to be my handmaiden. You are the one I chose from the acolytes to wait upon me in my hour of need. When I breed, you would have attended me. When I am sick, you would have nursed me. When I am in my dotage, you would have been beside me. I love you. But I can no longer have you. On six occasions now have I been forced to plead your case before the Council of Elders, and on many more have I stayed the hands of Priests who would punish you for infractions you never knew you committed. I must leave the circle now and His Lordship will see you corrected and all your crimes expunged. If and when you leave the altar, you will no longer be who you are now, and I hope you can understand that all this is necessary. You will be required to serve another.” As much as the altar’s shape would allow, Megan nodded. Ashwhip bowed low before the High Priest, her breasts pressing the ground. She then returned to her hands and knees and crawled back to the shadows. To this point, Megan’s mind was racing. She had overcome her fear of death, and Ashwhip’s words gave her some comfort. She had believed that Ashwhip hated her. But underlying everything was a thought that she could not shake. She knew the voice of the High Priest. The stone of the altar was muffling and distorting it, but she knew the voice. If only he would come into view. “Reading from the Book of Order: The parts of a woman that are in error must be cleansed. The error cannot merely be taken from her, as she can regain it. It must be forced through her, that it may collect all of itself and pass in sum from her. To cleanse her of error must include the five elements. Fire to burn it free, water to douse the flame and clean her, air to blow free all parts, earth to bury the error in death, and spirit to infuse her that the error may never return.” “As it was, is, and ever shall be.” “Atoner, you must make clear your needs.” “Lord, I am a woman in error. Please cleanse me. I must be without error to live and prosper.” “Atoner, are you willing to be cleansed by pain?” “Lord, I am.” “Are you prepared?” “Lord, I know that I am not. That is part of my error, and must be corrected.” The High Priest walked from above Megan’s head to the opposite side of the altar. His hood was shadowing his face as he looked at the supine and naked young lady before him. He continued to circle her, three circuits in all. At the end of the third, he stood again above her head. She heard the sound of cloth rustling and then nothing. Suddenly the altar stone shifted and her head was unsupported. The High Priest had released the stops that held the upper section in place. Megan’s head dropped back and now two poles supported her arms, and her head hung freely. A quick and sharp pain told her that her head had impacted the stone that held her body. Before her eyes was something she had not expected: a fully erect man. Her eyes looked closely at the erection before her and then traveled up the body to meet the eyes of… Megan's Crescent Moon Atonement “Daddy?” He barely nodded. Megan’s heart skipped. Daddy was just joking with her. This had all been some kind of game to make her behave. But there was still her father’s cock in front of her face. “Ok, Daddy, I’ve learned my lesson.” “The atoner has not been corrected.” “Daddy, I get the point. Let me up please?” “The atoner asked for correction and will be purged of her error.” “DADDY!” “There is only correction or expulsion.” Her eyes began to tear. “You are going to make me suck your cock?” “You will be cleansed by Fire, Water, Air, Earth and Spirit.” “Yeah, and what part of cleansing is making you own daughter suck you off?” “You are the atoner, I am the High Priest. You will hold your tongue or it will be removed.” The tears flowed more freely. “Daddy, this is sick!” His eyes softened. “No, it is not sick. I am to blame. Your mother is not one of us. She did want me to bring you into the Way. She thought by keeping me from the Order of Initiation, she could keep you from the School and from the Way. But I taught you Secrets. I made you want to come, but I did not and could not teach you your station and the REAL Order of Initiation. You are not my daughter here, and I am certainly not your father. I am He Who Holds the Master’s Truth, High Priest of Fire and Keeper of the Maker’s Wand. You are lower than low in this place. You are a Closed Vessel that should have been Opened years ago. You are a defiant acolyte when as the daughter of a High Priest, you should be the most obedient and humble. The Council of Elders wanted you expelled, and the vote for your death was five to four against. Ashwhip is here as more than Priestess; she is here to ensure that I do as must be done.” Megan’s tears flowed freely and dropped onto the stone below her head. His eyes misting as well, he continued. “The only reason why I no longer functioned as the High Priest of Fire is because I wed your mother, a non-believer. She thinks the Way is a sex cult and forbade your being taught. When you came here, your mother left me and took your brother. So now, I am High Priest of Fire again and you must listen because if you do not, I cannot stop Lord Lambert from calling for us both to be expelled.” Sobs racked her frame. “For tonight, you are the atoner and I am Lord Wynne. After tonight, things may change. Are we clear?” Sobbing and crying, Megan barely nodded. Ashwhip breathed a sigh of relief. The first hurdle had been passed. Now, the remaining blocks save one would be easy. Lord Wynne drew himself up and replaced the compassion of a father with the severity of his role. “The cleansing by Fire,” he intoned. He moved around her body. Because of the dropped-off section of the altar, Megan lost sight of him quickly as he moved to face her from below. She felt his hands move up her body slowly, gently moving up both thighs to reach her groin. Thinking he was about to penetrate her with his hands, she was totally unprepared when she felt him take the wand and draw it down her again. “The Firebrand Wand,” she corrected herself. “Conflagratio et incendiorum,” he spoke. Words Megan had heard before, when ritual acts required Sacred Fire. The torches surrounding the circle sent tongues of flame, nine in all, which licked the narrow end of the wand and lit it. He held the wand aloft, the tongues of fire dancing on the tip as the flames flowed from the torches in a kind of nine-spoke wheel. Then the flames receded into the torches, leaving only a white-hot burning light at the end of the wand. He looked down again. “Cleansing by Fire,” he repeated. Ashwhip looked away, because she knew what had to happen. She shuddered as she looked up again, realizing that Lord Lambert expected her to watch everything. She watched as Lord Wynne stood, feet apart at his own daughter’s feet, and brought the wand to eye level. She sat mesmerized by the flame, knowing what was to come. “The First Cleansing must bring pain,” he continued. Without waiting for any reply, and precisely because this would take more will than anything else, he continued, more loudly. “The error in all women begins at birth. In most, it is cleansed away at First Rite. In you, it was not, and so we must enact it now.” Ashwhip involuntarily brought her hand to her abdomen and felt her scar, softened by many years. The wand came swiftly down and touched Megan’s skin directly above her navel. She screamed in agony, but he held the wand firmly. “The brand must be clear,” he thought. After an eternity of seconds, the wand was lifted and dipped in the cauldron, hissing itself out. “Cleansing by Water.” He continued up her body, lifting the cauldron from above her vulva, raising it over his head and saying, “Inaqia et vitae!” The water bubbled upward briefly and audibly, then settled down. Megan whimpered in agony, the burning continued even now after the wand was removed. “Cleansing by Water. The Second Cleansing brings not comfort by seals the power of the First. Look not for comfort, but rather for hope that all will soon end.” Megan could not imagine worse pain than the wand, so she was unprepared for what felt like acid as he tipped the cauldron directly over the spot where the wand had so badly burned her. Waves of pain flowed freely over her as the liquid from the cauldron brought tears and wails from her, yet the liquid remained exactly where he had poured it, pooling. Lord Wynne’s heart was breaking, but this must continue. He watched her writhe against the bonds, but the ropes held firm. His mind went back to another time, at this same place, when he had witnessed this ritual for the first time. It was this memory that steeled his spine and hardened him again to finish the task. He remembered the aftermath of the ritual and assured himself that this would end the same way. “Cleansing by Air,” he said determinedly. He moved further still up her body to the dagger. In most cases, a dagger was used only ceremonially in ritual, drawing energy in so as to direct it. But this dagger was the Dagger of Air, a ritual tool like no other. “Inestio et glaciorum.” The dagger’s blade turned almost the blue of a clear sky. “Cleansing by Air,” he spoke again. “The Cleansing by Air changes fire to ice, burning heat to burning cold. As the Cleansing by Water seals the power of the First, so the Cleansing by Air solidifies the power of the Second.” He brought the dagger down, flat of the blade pressed directly to the spot where Megan was already deeply pained. The pain now moved from hot to cold, but the burning remained and redoubled. She felt the pooled liquid harden on her body and the cold seep into her more deeply than the burning had. But she no longer wailed, though her body was still racking with sobs of pain. Lord Wynne saw and heard the change. His heart lightened. She would survive. He removed the dagger from her body and dropped it into the cauldron, where it froze the remaining contents into a solid mass. “Cleansing by Earth,” he boomed, his confidence in Megan renewed. He lifted the earthen disc. On the obverse was an erect phallus, and the reverse an open vulva with three drops of liquid dripping off. “Terrio et ferematum,” he spoke solemnly. The disc changed very little in appearance, other than a slight glow. “Cleansing by Earth,” he repeated. “Fire has burned, Water has covered. Air has made solid, and now Earth will seal. Unlike other cleansings, Earth remains forever.” He lowered the disc to directly over the wound he had thrice already inflicted and dropped it, reverse downward. It was now that Megan realized that though the disc looked the same, it was hotter than anything. It flowed across her body, remaining perfectly round, then contracted inward until it covered only the exact point where the wand had burned, the liquid had pooled and the dagger had frozen. But she no longer wanted to cry out, to scream, to curse her father or Ashwhip, or even to move. She was simply there. As the last of the pain slowed ebbed from her body, a new sensation came over Megan. The lower section of the altar, where her feet were attached, was sinking as the upper part had. The remaining third of the altar now supported her entire body, from below her shoulders to above her buttocks. She planted her feet firmly down and kept her eyes fixed on the empty space into which she had been staring for what seemed an age. Lord Wynne looked down and was pleased with what he saw. Her body was accepting all that had happened, she was calm, and he was now prepared to complete the Rite of Atonement. “If I had done this years ago, how different might things have been,” he thought. “Atoner, you spoke of the error in your mouth. You have been cleansed and the error prevented from ever returning from whence it came. But now we must bar it entry ever into your body.” This was the part he had been waiting for. “Atoner, are you prepared to receive the Cleansing of the Spirit?” “Lord, that I should be an Open Vessel and of service, I am ready.” As if one body, Lord Wynne and Ashwhip breathed deeply. She had learned and was willing. “A Reading from the Book of Life: The Seed of the Priest is like unto Fire, Water, Air and Earth, all bound together by the final ingredient, Spirit. By passing the Spirit into the atoner, the High Priest will bring all elements to bear and forever close the atoner to her error.” He came again finally to her head and looked directly into her eyes, whispering, “Do it well.” Megan opened her mouth gently and felt the warmth of her father’s manhood come to rest on the roof of her mouth. He had lost some of his erection, but it was returning. She began to think about everything: “Here I am, tied naked in front of my father. He can see my cunt, my tits, everything about me. He has burned, scalded, frozen and cauterized me. Now he has his cock in my mouth, and I bet I am going to end up swallowing his load. Just another day.” Her lack of experience did not mean she did not know something about what to do. She closed her lips around his phallus and used her tongue to stroke what she could reach. She sucked in her cheeks to form a better seal and began to use tongue, lips and suction to draw him further in. Above her head, Lord Wynne’s mind was filling with his own thoughts: “My daughter, my own daughter. Yes! She is one of us!” He thought about his wife whose stubbornness had made all of this necessary. “Take that you bitch. Your precious daughter is sucking my cock now and you cannot do anything about it!” He looked down and saw the effort she was making, and his thoughts softened. Megan kept working and trying, but the position of her head, hanging off the altar was making it impossible for her to do anything more than suck and lick her father’s meat. But suddenly, he reached down and grabbed the sides of her head and began to piston himself into and out of her mouth, deeper than she had taken him. She fought hard to suppress her gag reflex as well as to breath, and he kept pushing and pulling his cock into and out of her mouth. Then he lifted her head and held still. “Its over,” she thought, but wrongly. He shuddered and called out, “The Spirit enters her, she has made atonement,” and he let himself go. Weeks and months of sexual buildup were unleashed as torrents of jism leapt from his cock into her mouth. Megan felt the first burst and thought she was going to suffocate. “Swallow, girl, swallow. If you don’t, it will go into your lungs.” Megan swallowed rapidly, as fast as she could, but she could not keep pace with the volume of semen her father was dumping into her mouth. She felt some of it start to move behind her palette and into her throat, but fortunately, he lifted her head a little more at that exact moment and she was able to swallow that bit as well. Without ceremony, he released her head and it again impacted the altar stone. But she was already stunned and the impact only made her more so. She estimated that everything was over. Lord Wynne walked off toward where he knew Ashwhip was still watching. “Tell Lord Lambert it is done. Tell him that she is cleansed. You can go.” “No, Lord Wynne. I am ordered to observe all aspects. She is still Closed.” “She is Closed because I am one Priest. The last time the entire ritual was done, there were three Priests and a High Priest. If Lord Lambert and one of the others had seen fit to join us, she would be an Open Vessel and Cleansed at the same time. That’s why after Earth, the altar converts automatically.” “Be that as it may, your Lordship, I have to make sure you complete everything.” “Then you go comfort her. I cannot talk to her as a familiar until after we are done. If I do, I know I will lose my nerve.” As Lord Wynne walked outside the circle, his now-flaccid cock hanging between his thighs, Ashwhip leaned in closely and spoke to Megan. “You are almost done,” Ashwhip said quietly. “You did well.” “Almost? What else is he going to do, skin me?” “You’re not yet a complete success. Things remain that prevent you from becoming a part of all aspects of the School. Lord Wynne will make sure that you are fully prepared for what is to come, believe me.” “When can I see how badly scarred I am?” “Soon enough, but you need to understand. All of us have scars, just most of us have had them long enough that they are soft and not easily noticed. You are unfortunate in that you are receiving them so late. But you have them now, and that’s all that matters.” Ashwhip kept talking, keeping Megan’s mind from wandering away and allowing Lord Wynne time to prepare himself. When she saw him moving back into the circle, she kissed Megan soundly on the lips, tasting Lord Wynne’s seed, whispered good wishes in her ear and retreated into shadow. Megan could not see him, but she felt him approach her from below. She felt his leg hair brush against her knees, but he still said nothing. The soreness of her neck prevented her from lifting her head to see, which was good to his mind because it prevented her from seeing his erection poised at her cunt. He had looked at her before, but not in this way. His eyes moved from the clitoral hood downward to her labia, pink and thin, to her opening from which he could see a slight glistening. Looking over his shoulder and knowing, if not seeing, Ashwhip’s presence, he gingerly placed his tongue on her clit. Megan jumped, but said nothing. He licked gently across her clitoral hood, pushing it back and exposing the nerve center beneath. He felt her stiffen a little, but he repeated the process over and over again. Each time he did it, she jumped less and he became more bold and aggressive. With each successive lick, he also worked lower kissing and chewing at her labia and finally pushing his tongue into her opening. She was glistening more now, though he did not know if it was saliva or her juices, and he had to be sure. He sat back on his heels and watched as one, then another, and finally a third drop of juice flowed freely from her and into a receptacle at her feet. “Let the Opening begin,” he spoke finally. Megan felt her arms and legs loosened, and for a split second, she thought everything was over. But she realized her error when he took her and rolled her onto her belly on the altar, then refastened her hands and feet. She immediately noticed that he upper body and head were now much lower than her lower body. Lord Wynne looked with fascination at the sight he now beheld. His daughter’s cunt splayed open and waiting, juices glistening and freely flowing. Above it, the beautiful anal opening. He had always loved fucking his wife in the ass. It was probably that fact that explained why an active sex life and nineteen years of marriage had only produced two children without the use of any contraception. But his pleasure must wait. Megan must come away Opened totally. The Council of Elders had insisted on three things for tonight. First, that she was Cleansed. Second, that she was Opened completely. Third, that she complete the last Rite to become a woman in the Way. The priestesses had modified Megan’s diet without her knowledge to assure that the last part was fulfilled and Lord Wynne had infused the earthen disc with the proper herbs and oils. All that remained was for him to do as his station required and hope for the best. He drank from the vial Ashwhip had given him, and felt the coolness spread quickly to his groin and his erection solidified like he was 17 again. He stood up taller than before and shouted, “Less it be counter to Your Will, Master, tonight, I shall Open this Vessel.” He leaned over, and without pausing to allow thought, he plunged into his daughter virgin cunt. He felt himself tear her hymen and heard her gasp of shock. He extracted himself and brought vessel containing her juices up, allowing the small trickle of blood to mingle with them. Returning the vessel to the ground, he reentered her and began to take up a rhythm with her. Because she was secured, the best she could do was flexing her vaginal muscles, but flex them she did. She had masturbated herself enough time to know what felt good, and she had certainly used enough hairbrushes in her cunny to know where to rub. But the new sensation of a real man’s cock poking her and probing her was also overtaking her and she felt the familiar warmth rising in her. If he could just reach…that…one…spot…THERE! Megan felt her father’s manhood hit one of her hotspots and it was enough to overcome any concerns she had. So what if she felt like a whore. What did it matter if her father fucked her? Was it anyone’s business? Maybe he would fuck her more now that she wasn’t the little virgin anymore. All of her months of anguish at not fitting in were melting away into a fog of pleasure. She was drawn back to reality though by the realization that he had stopped. She wanted more, but he had stopped. She still felt him between her legs, but he had removed his cock from her. She then felt something cold and wet being poured onto her ass. Her first thought was that it was the liquid from the cauldron, but there was no burning. Then she felt his cock pushing at her ass. “Not there,” she thought. “You need to fill my cunt.” “Secretions and blood, woman’s juices. Open this last of the acolyte.” He continued to push, the blood and cunt juice making it not much easier, but he was making way. “Relax,” he whispered. “Just inhale deeply and I’ll push hard on your exhale.” She drew in a hard breath and then, as she let it go, Lord Wynne pushed hard. Megan felt like her insides were being shredded, but at least he was in. Sweat dripped from his face onto her as he began to again pound her. He leaned again, grabbed her hips and increased his tempo. He needed to build himself to another giant climax, and more than anything, he wanted it to be strong. He was building up as much magickal energy in his body as he could, mouthing Words of Power, rubbing the amulet around his neck occasionally, and forcing his mind to think about the raw carnality of what he was doing. “I am fucking my daughter in the ass, and I am going to release all that I have in me into her cunt. If her mother could see her now, quietly enjoying her father fucking her like a common slut, she would be silent.” He pounded harder and harder, grinding against her ass, feeling the coolness that had entered his groin being replaced by the heat of his power and his seed. “Soon,” he thought, “soon.” Megan was starting to get into this. Yeah, it felt like a shit in reverse, but it was also amazing. She thought back to all the times she had seen her daddy watching her from the bedroom window as she played in the yard in her swimsuit. There had always been more than fatherly love in those eyes, but now she knew why. Her father loved her and loved her as more than just a daughter. She felt her nipples scraping against the stone, but it was only adding to the feelings of the moment. Any second, he was going to cum in her ass, and then she would be able to look him in the eye and know him as he really was. Nothing could make the moment any better. Megan's Crescent Moon Atonement As quickly as he had plunged into her ass, he extracted himself. Megan gasped in shock as she felt a deluge of cold liquid wash over her ass, as it must too have washed over her father. Lord Wynne quickly washed his cock off and plunged it deeply into Megan’s dripping wet cunt, barely losing the rhythm he had been maintaining in her ass. Megan quickly felt her body shift gears as well, acting almost as an extension of her father’s cock. He pounded her violently, his cock striking against her cervix, dislodging the natural protective barrier and opening her body completely. “It’s now or never,” he thought. “I either do it completely or not at all.” Without hesitation, Megan shouted, “I am a Vessel beneath the Master, and I am Open. My Body has been Prepared. Fill me with your Seed and Quicken me.” Lord Wynne almost stopped. Ashwhip looked stunned from her vantage. No one had told Megan what to say. Both had expected to have the ritual end with his completion and silence. Quickly regaining his composure, Lord Wynne spoke his part. “The Master is satisfied with the Vessel. It is cleansed and prepared to receive the Seed.” His power and energy at its zenith, Lord Wynne stiffened, his cock buried deeply and the cockhead seated in her cervix, he released all his energy, all his power and more semen than he could ever remember making. He saw her body visibly distend and move as her own orgasm rushed over her and her womb’s muscles flexed, forcing his seed deeply into her, seeking out the egg that the earthen disc had induced to be released. His energy released, Lord Wynne collapsed, pulling his manhood from her. He watched and saw none of the precious semen leaking out. Her body was holding in her uterus, where it would certainly find an egg to fertilize. Leaning to the side, he released her left leg, then shifting, released her right. Ashwhip ran forward and untied Megan’s arms and she rose only to fall into a heap next to her father. She kissed him softly on the mouth. “Daddy, that was amazing.” “That was more than I had hoped,” was his reply. He kissed her, his tongue moving into her mouth. Ashwhip looked on, waiting for the opportune moment to interrupt. “Megan, you are complete. You’re not an acolyte anymore. I have named you Ashbeam. You are Ash of my nature, but you are stronger. You are the beam, the thickest and best of the tree.” “Can’t it wait,” Lord Wynne asked. He looked severely at Ashwhip. “You can run back and tell his Lordship that it is done, unless you need to be a voyeur even more.” “Can you bring her back?” “If we are not back by morning, send two priestesses to find us.” Ashwhip bowed, grabbed her robes and ran through the Twin Pillars. “Now, daughter, where were we?” Megan wrapped her arms around her father. All those years of now knowing who he really was came back to her. “Daddy, we have a lot of time to make up.” Fini