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The Sacrifice

By: Ravenswing



This story is dedicated to a Woman without whom there would have been no idea and no story. She knows who she is.

-- 

Her eyes were fixed on the belt holding together his black robe. Partially it was in deference, but she also needed something to concentrate on. The cocktail of drugs she had been given in the village were making her feel light headed and it would be wrong to stumble on the way to the circle. So she concentrated hard on the belt of white chord wrapped seven times around his waist and made her feet move forward.

Behind her, two other robed figures were there to guide her should she fall, drag her back should she attempt to run. No one had run from the Sacrifice for as long as anyone could remember; some said that it had never happened and that the Guardians were simply symbolic. She knew that when the ritual began, only the High Priest, the man leading the small procession, would be with her. The Ritual of Sacrifice was a guarded one, only the High Priest and the Chosen Sacrifice could attend the ritual itself. This had been the way for countless generations. Four went up to the circle atop the hill outside the village, two conducted the ritual. The number returning to the village afterward was a matter for the Goddess. For generations, the Ritual of Sacrifice had been used to select the new High Priestess; the Chosen Sacrifice who walked back down the hill from the circle became the new priestess. Those the Goddess rejected... She pushed the thought from her mind. Thinking about what would happen if she were judged unworthy would not help her now.

In a slightly detached manner, her attention was drawn to the way her nipples were rubbing against her robe. Her nipples were erect, hard, despite the warmth of the Midsummer night. It had been a hot day and the night promised to be sweltering. She was glad for the loose tabard she had to wear for the ritual. The simple strip of cloth was light and a little rough, made form un-dyed linen. Broken only by a hole for her head, it was open at the sides, tied at the waist by a red belt of woven linen. She wore nothing else, but her wrists were tied by a ritualistic tether of woven grass. The grass rope would part if she pulled on it, she knew that. Its purpose was symbolic, not functional. Her nipples still rubbed, and she realized with slight alarm that her body was reacting to the sensation. Between her legs, a slight wetness was beginning.

They arrived at the stones suddenly and she realized that she had not been paying attention. Now they stood at the gap in the stones acknowledged as the entrance way. It appeared no different from any of the other gaps between the monoliths, apart perhaps from the slightly more worn grass, but this had been the way you entered the circle for generations. Here, the two Guardians bowed to the priest and the Chosen Sacrifice and turned back down the hill. She blinked at them, watching their retreating backs for a second, before turning to step inside the circle.

She fell to her knees within a few feet. It was part of the ritual, it showed humility before the Goddess, but in truth her legs would no longer carry her. Her body was refusing to follow her instructions. It took all of her efforts to remain upright while kneeling. Yet, despite the apparent divorce between her mind and body, her senses seemed to be growing more acute. Her rock hard nipples were tingling from the cloth stretch over them. The slightest breeze sent shivers through her skin. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of the world around her.

When she opened them, the priest was completing the Ritual of the Calling of the Goddess. She had seen it before, as had all the villagers old enough to attend at the circle. Every ceremony here began with this ritual, calling the Goddess to observe her followers. Normally it was conducted in daylight, but here the only light came from the half-circle of tall candles situated around the rear of the alter stone, each mounted on an iron rod sunk into the earth. The altar stone itself was different. Typically it was covered in flowers or a cloth. Tonight there was only the bare stone.

She blinked, and he was standing before her. She looked up into the shadow of his face and, for the first time since beginning tonight, she was afraid. All she could see were shadows, somehow deeper than they should have been. Then his voice, deep, smooth, comforting, came from those shadows and her heart lifted. "Can you stand?" he asked and she shook her head. He nodded, knowing what the drugs did, and stepped around her. His strong arms lifted her to her feet, and then swept her off them. Her head spun and the swift movement across the circle appeared disjointed, fractured. He lowered her, and she realized that she was now lying on the altar stone. The cold rock felt odd against her body; should it not have been hot after a day in the sun. He lifted her bound arms, stretching them up above her head, and then moved to her legs, placing them together, straight down the length of the stone.

From his belt he took a knife. The carved bone hilt was a natural white, bleached by time in the sun. Now he began the ritual proper, the Ritual of Sacrifice. His father had done this before him, and his grandfather before that. The position of High Priest was hereditary, unless the current priest failed to father a son, but the High Priestess was won on merit, the priestess chosen by the Goddess. This simple fact gave her more power than him, but not until she had been through this trial.

The knife was waved and circled, and her mind wandered. She saw herself as a child, running through the fields outside the village. Witnessed herself standing outside the circle the first time she had been allowed to enter. Her minds eye showed her the long line of priestesses that had been before her, and far down, at the end of the line, a glowing figure of such exquisite beauty it could only be the Goddess herself.

Hands untying the knot of her belt brought her back to reality. She struggled to focus on his face, now lit by the candles. The knot gave way, and he laid the ends of it to either side. Now he slipped the knife blade into the neck of her tabard and, in one swift movement, ripped down the length of it from neck to hem. The torn strips fell back against her skin and she let out a sigh.

Stepping away from her, he untied and began to unwind his own belt. Slowly he dropped it to the floor, length after length, as he unwound the seven turns. His hands took the front of his robe and parted it, sliding it off his shoulders and allowing it to pool on the floor behind him. She caught her breath. Beneath the robe he was naked, already semi-erect. His body was well muscled, firm, and it almost seemed to glow in the light from the altar candles. He picked up his knife and moved to the foot of the altar, where her legs were still resting together. She was aware of the wetness between them, aware of the tightness of her nipples.

He parted her legs, spreading them wide, and she could do nothing about it. Her body no longer responded to her wishes. Her arms would not lift, her legs ignored her pleas, even her head would not move from its attitude of looking up at the stars. Only her eyes moved to follow him as he climbed onto the altar stone between her knees.

He parted the cloth over her chest, not yet so far that her aching nipples were uncovered, and placed the knife there. The hilt rested between her full breasts, cradled by them. The blade was cold against her stomach, the point almost touching her naval. Now he leaned back and began to mutter under his breath, eyes firmly closed. Even if he had spoken aloud she felt that she could not have understood the words. Her mind seemed befuddled and she thought again of the radiant woman who had been the first High Priestess.

Her eyes flickered open as he pulled aside the torn cloth of her tabard. She felt cool air against her hot breasts and gasped. Then she gasped again as she felt his fingers slide between her legs. She was so wet, and he used that to moisten his fingers between her nether lips, sliding gently within her to the length of the first joint before pulling back out. She sighed, her eyes flickering closed. Then she caught the scent of her own musty fluids as he anointed her lips and nipples in turn with the clear liquid on his fingers. The scent seemed to drive right to the core of her mind and suddenly all she wished was that he would put his fingers back inside her.

Instead he moved his whole body over her, resting his weight on his arms, lowering himself so that his chest just touched her breasts. Her eyes widened as she felt the head of his shaft gently part her flesh.

"Goddess, pray find this sacrifice worthy of you," she heard him say. "Let your light shine through your servant."

There was an instant of pain as the sacrifice was made, as the body of a man entered her for the first time. The shock of his sudden entry into her body ripped through her, tearing a cry of pain from her throat. Her halted instantly, buried deep inside her, waiting for her to relax. Her eyes opened, looking into his, and he smiled.

She thought, for a brief second, that he was going to withdraw, that the ritual was over. Instead he pulled out almost completely before sliding back inside her again. The sensation was beyond anything she had ever felt. Her heightened senses causing the pleasure to be almost as hot and blinding as the pain had been. He continued his slow stroking in and out of her body until she was almost going mad from it. She wanted to beg him to move faster, drive harder, but her throat would not form words. She wanted to wrap her arms and legs around his body and force him to greater exertions, but her body refused to follow her orders. All she could do was lie on the rock altar and be slowly driven insane by this man.

Apparently sensing that she wished more, perhaps feeling that he could no longer maintain this pace, he began suddenly to drive faster into her. Her mind reeled under the onslaught of sensation, of pleasure the like of which she had never dreamed possible. She felt vulnerable yet safe, terrified of what was to come and wishing it would come faster. As his body plunged against her and hot, white pleasure began to arc out from her groin through the rest of her body, groans of pleasure were torn from her mouth. His voice rose to meet hers and her ears filled for the first time with the sounds of sex. Her breasts felt heavy as they bounced on her chest with each of his thrusts. Her nipples rubbed against his chest, sending spikes of pleasure through her body. She could still feel the knife between them, but no longer cared what use might be made of it. All she cared about was the fleshy knife between her legs and what use was being made of it.

The change, when it came, was sudden. He recognized it from the last time he had performed the ritual, and knew that this was the time of judgment. Her body tensed beneath him, despite the drug, and her eyes appeared to glow. She felt only the sudden release of her first orgasm as pleasure flared though her body in a wave that began where he was piercing her and spread outward time after time. She felt the presence of another within her, knew that this was her moment to be judged, but the pleasure was her whole world now. If she died at this moment there would be no regrets.

His orgasm overcame him as he felt her body close around his shaft like a hot, velvet glove. Ripples danced over him as her muscles clenched and relaxed, and there was nothing he could except shoot his load deep inside her. He felt the Goddess enter him through her at this moment, felt her wrap around his heart and caress him. His pleasure at that simple act of loving by his Goddess was almost greater than the pleasure creeping up from his balls. He looked down and saw the twitching body of the Chosen Sacrifice, raised as a virgin for the last eighteen years to become the next High Priestess, if her mind survived what was now happening to it.

Light filled her and she rolled in a sea of ecstasy. She felt him ejaculate within her, knew the pleasure of being filled by a man. At the same time she felt female hands on her body, a mouth caressing her nipples, her stomach, lower... She arched her back, or felt she did. The pleasure was almost pain now, too much sensation for her mind to cope with. She heard her voice, but was unsure whether the word came out through her lips. "Goddess!"

And the orgasm began to subside. And the light began to leave her body. And she fell back against the cold, hard rock. And all her world became darkness...

--

So, did she live or die? Tell me what you think.

The Sacrifice



Tio was bored. All the other priestesses had gone to rest, and she was alone in the sanctuary. Well, not exactly alone, fifty or so cats lay in various positions on the stone steps leading up to the huge statue of Bast, the cat headed Goddess. Her work was already done. She had fed all the cats and cleaned up after them. So now she just had to wait until daylight and she would be relieved, but for now she was bored.

Her dark eyes roamed the sanctuary until they rested on the Goddess she served. Tio regarded the statue with her dark eyes. Bast had large jutting breasts. They cast twin moon shadows on the steps in the flickering torchlight. Tio's hands went to her own breasts. She smoothed the linen of her tunic over them. They were firm and soft, but not nearly as large as those on the statue. Tio giggled as she continued caressing her breasts. She decided a man must have carved the statue.

She began to lightly pinch her nipples through her tunic. It felt so nice. Tio was getting very aroused. Hmm, suddenly night duty was not feeling so boring. She stripped off her tunic and skirt and tossed them aside. She crawled up the stairs into the shadow of those immense breasts and stretched out on the wide stone step. Her hands returned to her taut nipples, squeezing and tugging until she was panting. Her right hand slid down her smooth stomach to the source of her femininity.

Being that she was from a noble family, it was shaved smooth. She liked the soft feel of her skin as she cupped her sex. She felt her heat against her hand. Tio drew her legs up and bent her knees, giving herself better access. Slowly, she dipped one finger between the smooth folds. She was so wet. Her finger slid over her pearl and down to her opening. She slipped one of her fingers just inside, teasing herself. Her other hand crept down, opening her up and stroking her clit. She kept up this slow torture as long as she could stand it, her slick finger sliding in and out, glistening with her own honey. 

Panting and moaning she was poised on the edge when she heard a loud vibrating noise coming from Bast. Her eyes flew open as a beautiful woman stepped from behind the Goddess statue. Tio froze. When the slanted green eyes met her own, her muscles locked and she could not move anything but her eyes.

Tio watched the woman's amused green eyes rake her from head to toe, coming to rest on the finger still imbedded in her pussy. The woman smiled and made her way down to the step where Tio lay. She stopped and knelt one step above, within easy reach of the naked priestess.

Tio absolutely could not move. She desperately wanted to cover herself but all she could do was stare helplessly at the figure kneeling above her. She had the feeling this was no ordinary priestess or lost pilgrim but Bast, the Goddess herself. The woman stretched out one long fingered hand and gently stroked Tio's hair. Her strong brown fingers brushed across Tio's forehead, smoothing down along her cheeks. She slid one finger over Tio's soft lips, parting them slightly. The woman leaned over, her long braids falling like a beaded curtain around Tio's face. Tio felt the woman's tongue slide into her mouth.

Tio managed a groan and found she could at least kiss back. Bast's mouth tasted like honey, sweet and warm. Tio groaned again when the Goddess finished the kiss with a lick to her full lips. Bast's mouth slid to her neck and began licking and nibbling the sensitive skin.

Tio shivered, and realized she could move her head and neck. The Goddess moved one hand to Tio's full breasts and began rubbing the flat of her palm against their sensitive peaks. Bast raised her head from Tio's neck and looked deep into her eyes. Slowly, keeping her eyes locked with Tio, she slid down and started to lick the underside of Tio's breast. Bast's tongue was rough and when it finally reached the nipple, Tio's neck arched, and a hiss escaped her lips. Bast gave the other breast similar treatment before sitting back, a wicked smile playing about her mouth.

Bast ran her hands down Tio's arms, coming to rest on her wrists. She leaned down, deeply inhaling the scent of Tio's arousal. Bast lifted one hand from Tio's wrist, and brought it to her mouth. She licked her thumb and brought it down to rest on Tio's clit. She stroked the hard nub with the pad of her thumb. Her other hand slid down, her fingers tracing over Tio's own to where the one disappeared into her body. She bathed her finger in the juices dripping from Tio's sex, and slid it inside next to the priestess's finger.

Tio gasped and moaned as the Goddess slid her finger in and out, stretching her slightly. Bast slid her finger from the trembling priestess and put it between her own lips, licking and sucking Tio's juices into her mouth. She purred deep in her throat.

Bast moved down and positioned herself between Tio's spread legs. She began to lick Tio's inner thighs in long strokes. Her rough tongue rasped around under Tio's fingers, never quite touching, licking up the sides of her folds. 

Tio felt hot breath on her clit. Maddeningly, Bast's tongue licked just below, at the top of her opening. Tio could feel her juices dripping out. Bast's tongue slipped inside her pussy. She could feel it against her finger and her inner walls. She could also move her fingers on that hand. She pulled her finger out. Bast's hand clamped down on hers. Two of the Goddess's fingers wrapped around Tio's and slid all three back into her wet slit. Tio groaned as she was stretched even more.

Sliding their fingers in and out, Bast leaned up and licked Tio's clit in a long slow stroke. She kept licking faster and faster. Tio's head thrashed around as she screamed her orgasm into Temple. Her eyes rolled up and Tio went limp, her muscles unclenching. 

Bast looked thoughtfully at the unconscious priestess. She slipped her fingers out of the girl, and daintily licked the juices from her fingers. A low purr sounded from her throat. She crawled back up on the step above Tio, and stretched herself out. She leaned down and put her lips next to Tio's ear, "Your sacrifice has been accepted," she whispered to the unconscious priestess. Bast got up and stretched. With a languid backward glance, she stepped up and disappeared behind the statue.

Tio finally woke when the sunlight began to trickle into the high cut temple windows. She stretched. She was stiff and her back ached from sleeping on the hard stone step. She was also naked. Flashes of a beautiful woman licking her breasts flickered behind her eyes. Quickly she glanced up at the statue. Its feline eyes seemed to stare back at her. Backing down the steps, Tio collected her clothing and raced to her chamber to tidy up before the morning ceremonies. She would have to volunteer for night duty more often. 



The Sacrifice



Thanks to BigDick8870 for editorial assistance with this story.

*

My eyes fluttered open. In comfort, I rested upon silks and firs. I had been feasted yesterday, the other priestesses serving me as though they were my slaves. Scented oils had anointed my body; soft feminine hands had worked over every inch of my body, working out the knots and kinks from my muscles. 

Fed fruits, chocolates, sweetmeats, and the aphrodisiac Tal'lac seed-pod, I was made ready for the Priest, who clove from me my maidenhood, gently but firmly penetrating my hidden passages, breaking open the Seal that had been intact for my short nineteen years of life. His seed in my belly warmed me, providing additional comfort in what may have been my last day in this world. 

I was calmed to sleep by a soothing lullaby of the priestesses, and slept comfortably well, every possible physical need met in the sweetest day of my life. 

But today, it was my twentieth birthday. Today was no day for celebration. On this day I rose, and exited the temple naked to be attended again by the priestesses. I was led to the Sacred Spring, fed from the Dragon's mountain, and bathed carefully. The priestesses dried my body, anointed me with perfumes and scented oils, tied a thin loin-cloth around my waist, and placed leis of scented flowers around my neck. As I sat silently meditating, they wove flowers into my hair in a pleasantly-scented garland. 

Their ministrations done, I stood, glistening and scented, and was led by the Priestesses to the Place of Sacrifice where piles of food, wineskins, gold, bronze, shells, jade, and Kaal ivory carved into miniature statuettes had already been piled for the Dragon's consideration. 

The high priestess embraced me tightly. 

"Aarla, my daughter. Luck to you. May the Dragon find favor in you and bless you. Born two decades ago on the Day of the Awakening, witnessing the Dragon rise anew a decade before, you of us all are prepared to meet the Dragon. Let Him know we still love him and tremble in fear, praying for Mercy and Blessings on us, His people." 

She kissed my lips in a lingering, passionate kiss that spoke of the intimacy that those bound in Service to the Dragon shared with one another. Then, my Sisters in the priesthood filed away, none of them looking back to me.

I took a deep breath, and knelt before the mouth of the dragon's cavern, arranging some of the treasure around my legs. He had to accept the entire sacrifice, or his fury would consume the people. He was a dangerous Master, but when he was pleased, the island of Drachonia (even the island's name sang His praises!) flourished. 

I closed my eyes, lowering my face. His first impression had to be of my beauty, my submissive trust in His mercy despite my fear of His power. I knew the time was close, so I ran my Song through my head. It was a song I had been composing for a decade. Ever since I had looked out to see my Sister Priestess come here to the Place of Sacrifice, seeing her lovingly accepted by the Dragon, favored far beyond all expectations by Him, and told that I was to be the next to greet Him on His day of Awakening

I heard a rumble, and shivered. No, shuddered. Fear tinged with arousal rose in my body. I was tingling in anticipation of the Dragon's gentle ministrations, but the fear of His gigantic talon-teeth should I not find favor in His eyes ... It was with mixed emotions that I smelt the dry-leather odor of the ancient Drake. 

I felt His presence. Soon after, I felt his gaze upon me. I heard a soft rumbling sigh, and could feel his warm breath on my body. Slowly, I opened my eyes, and raised my face to Him. Our Master, the Bringer of Luck and of Death. 

Massive. I had seen him ten years ago, but from the distant Observation Platform where even now the priestesses were showing the Young One destined to kneel here ten years from now the look of the Dragon. As I say, massive. His light brown scales were tinged with streaks of red and green, and shone slightly in the light. The scales looked rough and solid, and fit close over one another in an impenetrable mesh stronger than any bronze yet forged by Men. His head was wedge-shaped, broken by horns growing from the top and sides, and by a clutch of long whiskers that grew out six feet from either side of His massive snout.

He smiled ... yes, the edges of his mouth lifted as his features relaxed. So far my beauty, submission and soft scent had found pleasure in His eyes. I responded with a sweet smile of my own, and then I began my Song, the Song which was the final sacrifice to the Dragon. If this pleased him, he would take the treasure back into his cave, where he would eat the food offerings, and pile the new treasure with what he hoarded within. Another decade of fruitfulness and luck would result. If he was displeased, I would be consumed, my final moments of pain and horror hopefully assuaging his fury enough to spare the rest of the people. 

I saw the Dragon pause, and lower His face to me. I gulped quietly as his massive Reptilian eyes gazed into mine. No. No, there was warmth, and love, behind those eyes. They were not the cold, uncaring orbs of a snake or a lizard. I shivered again, feeling myself drawn into those eyes. I remembered the priestess ten years ago, remembered the Dragon fondling her with amazing gentleness and the look of surprised, even shocked, pleasure on her face as the Dragon gave her pleasures far greater than the priest had the day before. 

And I gasped in pleasure that held no shock as I felt his rough, scaly fingers begin to run over my body, stimulating my sensitive nipples and the tingling wetness between my legs. With a deep, shuddering sigh I felt the dragon's tongue on my cheek, and felt myself surrounded with the gentle warmth of favor and pleasure that the massive creature was emanating, like a magical aura.

His massive claw wrapped gently around my body, lifting me gently to my feet, and supporting me. I gently rubbed his massive fingers with a hand that seemed so puny in comparison, as his other front paw was gently rubbing over my body, the soft pads of His digits finding all the spots that made my body quiver in pleasure. 

I cried out softly as I felt the Dragon rise up to His full height. I was drawn up, twenty feet into the air, supported only by His gentle grasp, as his firm slightly warmed talon dipped just inside the folds of my sex. Yes, this is why the priest took my virginity, took that of each priestess brought before the Dragon. Only a few ever experience this pleasure, and the Priestess a decade ago was so favored that He took her with him into the mountain. No one knew what those few priestesses so taken experienced, but they were never seen again. It could only be assumed that their lives were filled with ease, luxury, and amazing pleasures.

I moaned softly as I felt the hard, sharp, unyielding claw slide with amazing gentleness into the folds of my wet and tingling opening. The sense of danger that pervaded me enhanced my sensations, as I felt my world focus to the moment: I was bedded on the soft padding of the Dragon's claw, the soft fingertips of the creature running over my breasts, my belly, and the sharp and deadly talon sliding slowly, carefully, into my body. Deep, deep into me, I could feel the deadly tip touch my cervix, and I shuddered anew. At this moment the Dragon could so easily kill me: His talon could penetrate far deeper into my body, driving into my belly and ripping me apart. The thought took nothing away from the growing pleasure that enhanced with each wave surging from my filled pussy up my body. 

A gentle lover, the Dragon pulled his claw slowly out of my body, until I could feel just the sharp tapering tip still within me. With a shuddering moan I braced for a fresh penetration, and like the priest yesterday, the Dragon did indeed thrust back into me. The sensation was unbearable, and I gripped the Dragon's gentle, enfolding claw-fingers, my insides quivering and clenching around the hard, unyielding ivory of the Dragon's weapon. The sense of danger vanished from my mind, and my hips bucked back against him, timing with his thrusts, my back arching as I felt the tip scratch against my cervix again and again, the velvet padding of his massive fingers rubbing every sensitive part of my body. Even my clit received the attention it needed, as the ridges of one pad slid again and again into the folds of my body, teasingly rubbing my hot, blood-engorged nub and sending simply unbearable shivers of pleasure through me. 

It was with a sweet sense of shock that I felt my climax surge. My inner walls clenched at the Dragon's claw, rippling futilely to draw out the fluid my body expected to receive but would not. Moaning, I felt my Self slip away, as I became blinded with orgasmic pleasure, the Dragon's claw coated with my juices and pleasure ripping through my flesh. A shudder, a cry that was sweet to the ears of my massive lover, and my body relaxed again, snuggling into the soft, warm folds of His claw-padding. I wished to stay there forever. I wished the life my predecessor enjoyed, being the Dragon's toy. To experience this over and over during the coming decade, when He would roll over in his sleep and be reminded of my Presence by my sweet scent, my quiet voice greeting his ears. This I wished for, this I desired beyond all else. 

The dragon removed his claw, which I noticed was bloody. We had been a little too zealous in our lovemaking and his sharp claw-tip had damaged my insides, but I felt no pain nor any fear. I trusted my Master, my Lover, and so deeply wished to allow Him to possess me utterly, any time He wished. 

I was set down onto the ground with tenderness, and I gazed up into now-sad, regret filled eyes. The Dragon blinked, and his tongue gave me a last slow lick across my face. With a low, rumbling sigh, he turned to the pile of treasure, scooping it up and dragging it to the mouth of his lair. He turned one last glance to me, smiled, and vanished into the mouth of the cave.

Tears streamed down my face. I felt my energy leave my body. I sighed deeply, sobbingly. The Dragon had been pleased, had favored me with pleasure beyond any I would ever hope to experience again in my life ... and yet, he refused my prayer. I was not taken into his world, and the ecstatic joy I had felt was replaced by a deep, empty longing that I knew would never be fulfilled while I lived. 



The Sacrifice



All rights reserved. Copyright July 9, 2008 by Ardor. The following story is intended for personal use by adults only. No reproduction either digitally or in print is permitted without the expressed written consent of the author. By downloading this story the reader professes to be an adult and that the material is legal in the area in which the reader resides.

*

The three naked girls about to take part in the ritual stepped into the forest clearing. The large group of mages, all naked as well, that were gathered in a circle around the clearing turned to look at the the girls as they came close. The circle parted and the the girls stepped forward until it closed around them. It was night time and the clearing was lit by three fires that hovered magically high in the air. Beneath each fire was a couple having frenzied passionate sex. They were locked in a magic sexual coupling that fueled the fires and stirred the energies needed for the ritual. It was visible in the air surrounding the clearing as a translucent cloud of swirling mist that changed colors. The mist hovered in the air all around them but centered at the top of a small three sided step pyramid in the center of the clearing. On each stone step was mounted a gleaming bronze phallus. The phallus at the first step was modest in stature. At six inches in length it was hardly what a boy before reaching manhood would carry. The second step not only had the phalluses grew to eight inches in length and three inches in girth but also sported a second smaller phallus behind the first one. It was a meager two inches in girth by six inches in length. The third and final step not only had the front phalluses grew to ten inches in length but the back phallus was nine inches in length and three inches in girth.

The three girls then each went to one of the couples. Mirai stood in front of a male and female couple. The female was laying on her back with her legs spread widely as he thrust deep into her. Mirai looked down at them and said, "You who light the fires are the base of all knowledge please fill me with that knowledge." Then Mirai turned around and squatted over the woman's face pressing her pussy to her mouth. After she did that she leaned forward, so that her face and shoulders were on the ground, and she reached back to spread her behind. The male of the couple pressed his face between her cheeks and they both breathed the swirling mist deep inside Mirai.

At the same time Liana stepped up to the second couple and said, "You who light the fires are the base of all knowledge please fill me with that knowledge." This couple was two male mages. One male was sitting on the ground while the other male sat on his cock facing him. Liana stepped between them. Both men quickly pressed their faces into her and filled her with the swirling mist.

Amia stepped up to the last couple and said, "You who light the fires are the base of all knowledge please fill me with that knowledge." This last couple was two female mages. They were both laying on their back fucking each other with a double headed dildo. Amia stepped between them and the two women sat up until their faces were pressed deep into her. Then they breathed the swirling mist into her.

All three girls had just come of age and in preparation for the ritual were kept virgins. No easy feat on a world such as eros. They were young, pretty and all had the large breasts and noticeably prominent clits of a female mage. Female mages are often dealt with carefully and even seen as dangerous but there are few who wouldn't take the opportunity to bed one. All three girls were dedicated to the ritual though and hadn't so much as masturbated in the long years since puberty. Now they were standing in a large circle of people and being penetrated magically. It was a powerful initiation into the both the sexual and magical realms. After years of denial their bodies felt things that they could never have imagined. All three shuddered and moaned in the first of many simultaneous orgasms. When the last wave of pleasure had passed through their bodies they each pulled themselves from the couple beneath them and, mist lightly flowing from their openings, they walked to a side of the pyramid. As they each looked at the steps they would have to climb a pretty female mage with long flowing white hair stepped forward and said, "Do you three willingly choose to climb the three steps to heaven?"

As one Amia, Liana and Mirai say, "Yes, we do."

"Then step forward and climb the first step." The white haired mage said and then returned to her place in the circle.

The three girls stepped forward together. They walked to the base of the pyramid and then turned around and stepped up on the first level. Their feet were on either side of the gleaming phalluses that pointed up at them eagerly. The base of the pyramid was wide enough that the girls could just hold hands. They each reached for their sister as the white haired mage said loudly, "Let us chant sisters and bring forth that which would ease their journey."

The mages that were circled around the three girls started a low chant, which sounded more like seductive moaning, after which the tips of all the phalluses started to drip. Amia, Liana and Mirai gently lowered them selves down until they were sitting just behind the phalluses. Then they thrust their hips forward until the base of the phalluses parted their lips and pressed up against their clitorises. All three moaned as they ground up against the phallus in front of them. The lubricant coming from the tip of the phallus in front of them dripped down the shaft and covered both them and itself. The phalluses above and behind each girl dripped forming a slow river that eventually flowed down. Before long each girl was practically covered in slick shiny lubricant. The girls were now sliding up the phallus bringing the head closer and closer to the entrance of their pussies. Mirai was the closest but she sensed the other girls weren't ready yet so she held back. A few more strokes and they all slipped up the length of the shaft and then slowly down over it until they each had a phallus deep inside them. They slowly fucked themselves to the rhythm of the chanting mages circled around them. Getting closer and closer to orgasm with each stroke. As the mages started to quicken their chant the girls quickened their pace. The mist swirled faster in the air over the pyramid, the couples fucking beneath the fires became even more passionate, the chanting became louder and faster as all three girls came moaning.

When they had strained and moaned the last of their second orgasm, when they were able to relax the tightened grip on each other's hands they paused for a second, but only a second, before moving up to the next step. This phallus was noticeably larger then the first. The girls had been warmed up enough that they could rub the head between their lips and slowly ease it in. As they moved down a few inches the second phallus poked at them from behind. Each girl made a slight adjustment widening her stance and shifting her weight a bit so that the second phallus could slide into her. As it did the mists churned even faster, the couples beneath the fires screamed with pleasure that didn't seem to end. The white haired mage saw through her chanting that the girl's eyes had glazed over with the shimmering mist. The chanting grew to a fevered pitch and as the girls came for the third time mist leaked out of their open mouths like water flowing gently over a fall.

The frenzied sexual magic filled the very air each mage breathed as the girls lifted themselves up above the final phallus. As they moved downward taking it inside they each moaned loudly. It was no longer a human moan. It contained an other worldly echo. A resonance of things beyond what normal mortals, even a mage, could see. They sunk down on the long thick shafts taking them both to the very hilt. The girls were closer now that they were at the top of the pyramid. They linked arms at the elbows and each grabbed her own large heavy tits squeezing them and lifting them skyward. Their legs spread wide touched at the thigh and calf exposing to all the base of the gleaming bronze phalluses buried deep with in them. The couples beneath the fire came hard in body wrenching spasms as the fires above them exploded. At the same time the girls threw back their heads and came themselves. A bright shaft of light shot up from them into the sky and an other worldly moan shook the very ground knocking all that were standing off their feet.

Then there was silence.

The forest was dark, lit only by a pale sliver of the moon. The mages slowly gathered their senses after having been knocked on their backs, legs strewn apart, slowly stood up obviously shaken. The white haired mage quickly ran to the side of the clearing and lit a torch. As she walked closer to the pyramid she saw exactly what she knew she'd see. Still, it brought a tear to her eye. The four girls were no longer flesh but dark stone. Their last moment atop the pyramid, frozen for all time, in a screaming climax. As mage after mage came near with a lit torch it only became clearer that the ritual had worked and that they were a perfect monument. The gleaming bronze base of the phalluses shown brightly from between the stone lips of what used to be three young pretty mages. Once all the mages circled around the pyramid the mist swirled above it and an image of the three girls formed. It was as if they were floating in water swimming around each other like clinging snakes.

"Aurik do not cry for your daughters," a ghostly voice echoed from the clouds saying, "we are beyond life, beyond death. We are what we were meant to become. The Oracle of Eros."

"I know, " Aurik said with a smile as she wiped the tear from her eye.

"Let each mage go back to his land and spread the word that the Oracle has returned," the voice from the swirling image commanded.

"Yes my daughters, you will bring wisdom and blessings to the world of Eros," Aurik said proudly.

"Let each man know that in order to obtain our wisdom and blessings he must sit upon our breast and be virile enough to place his offering in each of our mouths. Let each woman know that to obtain our wisdom and blessings she must take joy in all three of the second steps."

"It will be known my daughters, my Oracle," Aurik said bowing slightly.

"Be well mother, we will, watch over you," the ghostly voice said as the cloud faded into nothingness.

Aurik looked at the statue that had once been her daughters for a few moments longer. A strong feeling of pride welled up inside her that they would be willing to give so much for so many. The light started to fade as other mages wandered off taking their torches with them back to their own lands. She turned to walk away feeling as if someone was looking over her shoulder. They would indeed keep their promise and make a good Oracle for the world of Eros. 



The Sacrifice



 NOTE: This is my first submission for Literotica. I dedicate this story for Ken Nitsua who kindly edited the draft before I submitted it here. God bless you, charming man. I'm a fan of your stories.

Comments are welcomed. I hope you guys enjoy the story. 





I followed the fine-looking man the night he went home from his office. 

He was finishing some paperwork earlier that day while I was sitting in front of him, gazing lustily at his firm chest wrapped in his tight-fitting suit. 

Those big, brown eyes, which could hypnotize any man or woman alike, were covered by a pair of dark-framed glasses. His dark eyebrows furrowed as he noted down the mistakes on the last reports and typed at his PC. 

I was trying to be patient while wondering how to relieve the stiffness in my pants when, with a heavy sigh, the man leaned back to his chair. I smiled for I knew it was time for him to call it a day.   

He got up, stretching before taking off his jacket, going down, and doing some push-ups. God! Such perfection! 

He kept doing his workout routine, completely ignoring me standing behind him, gazing at his bubble butt, wondering what it felt like to be beneath his hard body.

I was taken aback as he suddenly got up from the floor and made his way to his desk to pick up the ringing telephone. I got hard again from looking at his flexed right bicep. I swore I could smell the shampoo from his wavy, black hair. 

"No," the beautiful man said into the phone. "There is no need for that. I think I am going to walk home this evening. Good night."

The man put his black jacket back on and swiftly went to the door as I tried to match his speed. It was useless for me to tell him to slow down a bit because first of all, I did not know his name—at least back then—and second, he could not see me.

Was I crazy to follow this man even though I was not on this side of life anymore? It was worth it, I decided. For his face was the only face I saw that day I departed this life and there was a mysterious need inside of me to watch this beautiful creature.   

He gracefully walked out of the elevator when the door opened on the ground floor. 

He walked out of the building, saying goodbye to the security officer at the reception desk. The moonlight made his bronze skin glow.

I followed him. I just couldn't help myself. 

                         ***

Remy decided to go home by himself that night. It had been a long day at work. His friends had invited him to a sports bar near the office, but he declined. All he wanted was a cold beer and a hot shower. 

Remy liked to walk home to his apartment, located near his office building in the Sudirman Central Business District in Jakarta, whenever his restlessness came. 

It was always very hot during the day. Remy liked the cool air embracing his skin and the wind sweeping his hair that gave him peace when evening fell in the city.

He took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. 

Suddenly he turned around. No one was there.

That was odd. He thought he heard someone. He observed the dark pavement behind him before he decided to let it go and continue his walk. 

                      ***

I was still following the man when he arrived at his apartment. As soon as he let himself inside, he quickly unbuttoned his shirt, stripped off and threw his clothes into a pile of dirty laundry.

Wearing only a jockstrap—fucking hot!—he went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and grabbed a can of beer.

DON'T FORGET TO DO THE LAUNDRY.

Reading a note plastered on the freezer, he smiled a bit as he gulped down his beer. The man then went to the bathroom, turned the shower on and stepped in, letting the hot water pour over his hair and body.

"Ah, heaven," he muttered. 

He took a washcloth and rubbed all his muscles. I could tell the man was admiring his own body and why shouldn't he? I would have stroked every inch of him if I were still alive.

And then I saw his sinewy hands descend and start to stroke his half-erect cock. His manhood, which was not very thick but long, pointed upward as his fingers caressed its blue veins.

"Oh fuck. Oh yeah," he murmured.

It was too much. The man was giving me a show. I was standing by the bathroom door, absent-mindedly stroking my cock, hard as rock. 

I gasped a little watching the muscles work beneath his skin. His body writhed with pleasure as he muttered under his breath.

I had to touch him. I knew I should not—or could not, for that matter—but I came toward him, slowly closing the distance between us. I was beside him, the head of my cock almost touching his hips.

I faced him and opened my hands to embrace his body. His eyes were still closed as I pressed my lips to his and put my hands around him.  

                        ***

Remy felt something cold touch his lips while hot water was pouring on his skin.

He opened his eyes and screamed. Naked and wet, he ran to the living room and frantically dialed.  

"Hello?"

"Lukas! Thank God! Lukas, you won't believe me—"

"Whoa, calm down, tiger. What's up?"

"I saw him, Lukas. I saw him! I was in the bathroom and his face appeared out of nowhere in front of me!"

"Remy ..." 

"Don't! Don't tell me it was just a figment of my imagination. It was real, Lukas!  You have to believe me," Remy said, tears falling.

"I am with a client right now."

"Lukas, please?" Remy's voice broke. 

A moment of silence.

"I believe you, sweetheart. I will come as soon as I can." 

Remy sat down on the couch in the living room, breathing hard. His hands were shaking as he reached for a photograph on a small table beside the sofa. 

It was a picture of him hugging a younger, lean man from behind. 

The man had a goatee and his eyes were piercing blue. Both of them were smiling in the picture. Remy's eyes looked straight to the camera while the lad glanced sideways at him.

Remy touched the man's face in the picture tenderly. 

                        ***

Damn! I did not want that! I did not want the handsome man to cry. I did not want that at all! All I wanted was to feel his hard body pressing down on me. I wanted to worship him. 

The man was crying as he waited for his friend to come. I fought the urge to rush toward him and embrace him tightly.

I was confused.

I saw him, Lukas. I saw him! 

That was what he said.

He knew my face? But how could he know? I did not know this man. All I knew was that his face was the only face I saw before departing to the other side.

I peeped at the picture he was looking at. The face of the gangly man he was embracing in the picture looked familiar. I went to the bathroom to look into the mirror. 

That was me in the picture all right, even though I looked grayish now.   

I had thought maybe I was the man's guardian angel and was assigned to observe him before this revelation.

The hell I am, I told myself, a guardian angel was not supposed to touch himself while watching the man he was supposed to watch over jacking off in the shower. 

However, I still could not remember who Remy had been in my previous life. 

                        ***

"Lukas!"

Remy embraced the tall man with dark-blonde hair as soon as he opened the door. Lukas, who was slimmer than Remy but taller, smiled and put his arms around his lover. 

"I am here, baby. I'm always here."

"He was here, Lukas. I—"

"Sshhh. Calm down, baby. Let me make you feel good. Okay?"

Lukas leaned down and put his lips to Remy's. His tongue forced Remy's mouth open and the shorter, more muscled man—who was still naked—groaned.

Remy madly unbuttoned and stripped off his lover's blue shirt as Lukas continued to give him wet, sensual kisses. He grabbed Lukas stiffening penis underneath his trousers. 

"Suck my manhood, boy."

He forced Remy down to his knees.

"Boy, unzip my pants. Take my cock out."

Remy reached for the zipper but a hand suddenly slapped his face.

"Use your mouth, boy."

Remy was humiliated but his cock was stiffening. He used his teeth to unzip Lukas and after struggling for a minute managed to take Lukas' straight, 9-inch cock out.

He opened his mouth and swallowed the tube, milking the precum that was already streaming from the head. 

Lukas moaned. Then with a growl, he grabbed Remy's head and started pistoning his shaft down Remy's throat, making the submissive man gag.

After a while he forced Remy to get up. 

"Bend over, boy. Spread your cheeks. I want to see that hole," said Lukas as he grabbed a condom from his wallet, tore it open and hooded himself with one fluid motion.

Remy obeyed. He heard Lukas spit on his manpussy. Lukas started to enter Remy's tight hole very slowly, then stopped.

"Wh-why did you stop?" 

"Maybe I don't want to fuck your ass, boy. I'm tired because of the meeting, which you ruined by the way by acting like such a sissy." 

"N-no. I'm sorry. But don't stop!"

"Beg for it."

"Please, Lukas."

Lukas shoved a couple of inches of his cock into Remy's ass, making Remy groan in pleasure, but then stopped again.

"That was what 'please' got you, boy. I need more."

"Oh, God. I'm begging you."

"Keep going, boy," Lukas said as he pushed his cock in further. 

Remy tossed his head from side to side, wantonly. He could not help it with Lukas' dick massaging his prostate.

"Fuck me! Make me yours. Mark me. Seed me with your babymaker! Fuck me!"

Lukas laughed as he started to speed up his pace. Soon he was driving into Remy like a machine.

"Fasten your seatbelt, boy," he said as he reached down and stroked his lover's cock.

He continued to ream Remy's tight ass for a long while. Finally he shouted his lover's name and took out his cock, released the condom and sprayed hot jets of cum all over Remy's back and hair.

"Remy!"

The voice of Lukas saying his name pushed Remy over the edge and he squirted his white milk on the floor.

Lukas wrapped his lover in a tight embrace.

"I'm here, baby. I'm sorry I'm late," he whispered. 

Remy smiled.

                          ***

I whimpered softly as I came while watching these two hot guys make love in front of me. 

However, I felt a rage when I saw the tenderness between the two men afterwards. I was seeing red. That was supposed to be me! I was the one who worshipped Remy.

They were lying on the couch and lovingly caressing each other. Suddenly Remy spoke.

"I saw him, Lukas. I saw Noel."

"Baby, it was just a dream," said Lukas, hugging Remy tightly.

"I don't think I can ever forgive myself. I don't think I will ever forget him."

Noel? 

"We have to move on, honey. We have to," said Lukas, stroking Remy's chest.

Remy laughed, shakily.

"I know, baby. I know. I love you. I love you because you know that when I kneel down and serve you it gives me pleasure. I could never do that with Noel. He was so sweet and caring but I had other needs."

"I understand, baby."

Noel? Was that my name? Of course that was my name for Remy had said so but why couldn't I remember? Who was I? Who am I?

                          ***

Remy began to cry against Lukas' chest.

"I never wanted him to die, Lukas. I just did not expect him to be outside my office when that mad shooter came in September and murdered all of those people. I felt so guilty because ... because he never knew I wasn't there. I was with you."

Lukas hugged Remy closer. His eyes were also filled with tears. 

"I never hated Noel even though he had made me the other guy in your life, Remy," said Lukas, a lump on his throat.

"Yes, we had good times together, but who threw a surprise party for your birthday? Who gave you that watch you like to wear as a gift after you graduated from your Masters?" he said.

"I was jealous of him because I had your body but your heart was his."

Remy touched Lukas' lips with his fingers.

"Don't talk like that."

"It's the truth," Lukas said with a sad smile.

"No, it's not. Yes, I was in love with Noel and probably will always be. But he is gone. You were there when no one else was after his death. You even came here tonight just because I thought I saw his face in the bathroom."

"Ah, so you agree that it was just your imagination?" said Lukas, grinning.

"Yeah, maybe it was. But you have to believe me, it was so real."

"Do you think his soul is still here, somewhere?"

"Maybe, but I know one thing for sure."

"What's that?"

"That you are here."

                        ***

My name is Noel and I remember everything. 

That beautiful man, Remy, who was sleeping with a smile on his face as Lukas held him close was my partner for several years. I always knew that Remy fooled around behind my back. 

He needed to submit to men that he thought were more masculine than him. 

I always forgave him even though he broke my heart more than a few times.

He eventually stopped after one night when we almost broke up after our biggest fight. It ended with him on his knees, crying and begging me to give him one last chance.

But I did not think I could ever forgive him about Lukas. 

Lukas. Lukas! That man drove me crazy. I did not like the way he looked at Remy whenever the three of us bumped into each other during a party or when we went to the movies. I hated him.

I hated Lukas not because he looked at Remy with lust. I hated him because he looked at Remy with tenderness and love. I hated him even more when I noticed the way Remy looked back at Lukas. 

After a while, some of my friends told me that they saw Remy and Lukas together on several occasions. I could not take it any more. 

The truth was, I hated Lukas because deep down inside I knew he was the one who could give Remy what he needed. 

I was going to break up with Remy, giving him his freedom so we both could move on. I went to his office but his secretary told me that he went out with "a client" named Lukas. 

I fought the tears in my eyes as I walked out of the building. I knew where Lukas' home was and maybe Remy was at his place. I was going to take a cab to go there and confront both of them when I heard the gunshots.

However, as the shooter came closer, I closed my eyes and opened my arms. I imagined Remy, smiling, looking at me as I heard the gunfire and my chest burst open in a gush of red.

Everything was fast-forward after that. 

I remembered lying on a bed in a white room with Remy sitting by my side. He was looking at me with tears in his eyes and holding my hand. I tried to say something but nothing came out and then everything went dark.

I heard Remy crying after I was pronounced dead by the doctor. 

I knew then why Remy's face was the one I remembered. 

I looked down now at Remy and Lukas, lying peacefully asleep.

A demon in me wanted to go to the kitchen to ignite a fire and burn the apartment down, killing both of them. I caught that monster and locked it in a cage inside my heart. I still loved Remy and would for eternity.

It was time to go. 

I leaned down and kissed Remy's lips.  

"I hope you are happy, baby. I really do."

I left the apartment for good.  



The Sacrifice and the Scholar



Once there was a small valley, nestled deep within the craggy mountains, and within it was a small village of farmers. For years they and their fields had received water bountifully from a large spring that gushed from beneath a granite outcrop. For three years now, however, the flow lessened and lessened until there was barely enough to sustain their lives. The village elders and its holy man spent long hours pondering the cause of their dessication and speculated on cures for the situation.

One morning, at nearly midsummer, the holy man called the elders together. "The gods have sent me a dream," he announced. "I have seen a cave deep under the mountains, and in that cave a lake; the lake from which our spring flows." He continued: "A mighty dragon has taken up residence in the cave, and drinks deeply of the water to cool the heat of his breath. He is drying up the lake." 

"So that is why our valley is sere," said an elder, "What is to be done?"

"A sacrifice may sate the dragon," said the holy man, "but I do not know what the sacrifice should be."

"Something valuable, something we desire more than anything," said the eldest of the elders, "Only such a sacrifice could help."

And the elders sat quietly for the greater part of the day, searching their minds for what it was they most desired, most valued.

As the sun passed its zenith, blazing down on the valley, one elder spoke up: "A woman! That is what I most desire!"

Another said "Yes, of course, and a young woman, to be sure!"

"And beautiful!" added yet another.

"And a virgin as well!" offered the last elder, and they all agreed what they most desired was a beautiful, young, virgin woman.

"A fitting sacrifice," said the holy man. "Let us search the village for such an offering."

They searched their village, visiting every house, until they found what they sought. At the home of a poor couple, eking their existence from a few dry hectares of rocky land, they found her. At barely eighteen years of age, she was, indeed, as young as a female could be and yet be a woman. The holy man faced her and opened his cloak. She looked in puzzlement at that which hung limply between his thighs: she was, indeed, a virgin. Her face was fair and radiant, her skin pure white, her hair flowed in jet black tresses down to her waist, and her lips were as red and soft as a newly-bloomed rose: she was, indeed, beautiful.

And so she was selected to serve as sacrifice, to be offered to the dragon to slake his thirst and thus save her village. And as for the maiden, no one asked her, but she accepted her fate, sadly yet willingly, for the sake of the others.

As the sun began to set, the holy man and the elders led her to the limits of the forest, to where it met the rocky feet of the mountains, and stripped off her garments, tying her naked to a tree, exposing her to the rocks and caves so the dragon could not fail to see her. They said not a word as they abandoned her there, nor did she speak as she awaited her fate.

As darkness fell, she struggled to remain awake, but failed. Her eyes opened to the bright warmth of the morning sun, and she wondered why the dragon had not come for her. She waited, all through the day and yet another night, and still no dragon. She cried out for him to come: she was hungry and pained, and sought her sacrifice as a release from her bonds. And still no dragon. Yet another day passed with only her increasing hunger and pain, and now her thirst was driving her to the edge of consciousness. 

As the next morning dawned she could barely open her eyes and could barely think coherently, but she sensed something approaching. "The dragon," she cried out in the depths of her mind, "at last I will be free of my suffering." But it was no dragon.

A scholar lived in these woods and mountains. He was neither young nor old, but in the middle of his maturity, and he had taken to the wilds of the earth some five years earlier. Dissatisfied with the scholastic answers found in the universities, he sought knowledge and understanding through experience, and so spent his days wandering the forest and crags, observing the world and testing his speculations about the nature of things. This morning his wanderings through the night brought him to the forest's edge and to this bound young woman.

"Girl!" he said sharply, "What are you here for?"

The sound of his voice, of his calling her, aroused her to greater consciousness, and, thinking him the dragon, she attempted to say: "To be yours, for whatever you wish of me." Her parched throat, however, could only shape the words; no sound came from her mouth.

The scholar saw that dryness kept her from speech and that it also brought her close to death. He brought his goatskin to her lips, and poured a few drops into her mouth. She struggled to swallow, and then he poured a few drops more. And so it went, a few drops of water at a time, until she regained her full consciousness and her power of speech was restored.

He seems no dragon, she thought, but a man. She said naught, however, fearing that if he were a dragon, he might take offense at her not seeing him as such. But she did see him looking on her.

She was still naked, her body stretched by her arms tied high above to the tree and soiled from her bondage. But still he saw her beauty, her fine and fair face with its red lips, her full breasts, her nipples and areolae rosy-pink, her young hips, not much wider yet than her waist, and beneath them her pubis, with but a handful of silky pale hairs laying on its mons. He caught himself up; he was a scholar and should look that way on no woman.

He saw her reluctance, explained who he was, and asked how she came to this predicament.

Knowing now that he considered himself a man and not a dragon, she spoke to him, explaining the sacrifice that she was to be.

The scholar grumbled in consternation at such cruel superstition. "There is no dragon!" he exclaimed to her. "I have studied the mountains, and it is the snow that melts in its season and soaks into the ground that then emerges at the spring. The snow has been scant these past three years, and that is why your valley is dry."

He drew out his knife and cut her bonds. She fell free from the tree and he helped her to her feet, covering her nakedness with his cloak. "Girl!" he said again, "You are free. Go where you will." And he left her with his cloak as he proceeded on towards his simple abode.

He observed as he walked through the forest, either watching, listening, touching, smelling, or tasting all that was novel to him and interpreting his sensual reactions to gain a greater understanding of the things of the woods. As he was nearly half the way home he heard a twig snap behind him. He spun quickly to find what approached, and was surprised to see the young woman trailing him by about fifty paces, obviously and quietly following him.

"Girl!" he shouted angrily, and his ire blinded him to the sparkle in her eyes and shudder of her body at his cry. She demurely lowered her gaze as he continued: "I told you to go where you will! Now go!"

He resumed his path, turning now and again to see where she was. She remained where he had seen her, and, when he was out of sight of the place, he stopped looking for her.

His home was a few steps away now. He had made himself a rude lean-to, a shelter of boughs and saplings under the protective branches of a hazel tree. A small pool was nearby, fed by artesian water, and deep enough to reach his waist. The spring, with its pool and stream, provided him water enough for drinking and bathing, and harbored a variety of fish that often added to his nourishment. As he laid his goatskin and rucksack beside his bed of logs and spruce boughs he heard a soft rustling.

There she was again! Right behind him! She had followed him after all! Angrily he broke a wand, long and green, from the hazel, and seized her by the wrists, grasping her two thin limbs with one hand. He threw her, face first, against the hazel, stretching her arms up the trunk as she had been bound earlier. His cloak fell from her shoulders, leaving her naked again as he held her there and sharply applied the switch to her bare buttocks. The green stick bent and recoiled with his strikes, stinging her and bringing tears to her eyes. Her sobs assuaged his anger, and he found himself gazing on her again, transfixed by the myriad welts of his lashing swelling blood red on the whiteness of her skin as his loins tensed as they never had before.

He caught himself again, and averted his gaze as he harshly shouted at her: "Girl! I said go where you will. If you don't , I'll return you to the tree and the bonds where I found you!"

Her body shuddered again, with the strange sort of pleasure and peace she had felt when he first called out to her, but again he did not see as he threw his cloak over her and turned away in an effort to avoid her beauty.

He turned back after a few moments, expecting to see her well on her way. Instead he found her lying curled on her side at the foot of his sylvan cot. He realized now that she had obeyed him: he had told her to go where she will, and with him was clearly where she willed to go. He left her there, ignoring her while he pondered what he should do.

She slept as he prepared his evening meal, but awoke to the aromas of a trout freshly cooked in wild herbs. The smell was familiar; her parents' farm was poor, and they made many a meal from the bounty of nature. He knew she had not eaten for days and could see her hunger, and, though she asked not for food, he passed her half his fish, but neither spoke to her nor looked upon her. As the sun set behind the mountains, they were still silent, and as he retired to his cot for sleep she quietly curled up again on the mossy rocks at the foot of his bed.

He woke at sunrise, and found she had already started a fire and was infusing a tea from herbs she had gathered near his shelter in the early morning light. They both drank, wordlessly, and he produced a piece of rustic acorn bread for them to share. He observed her as they ate, and realized how soiled she had become from her trials. He motioned for her to follow as he went to the artesian pool for his morning ablutions.

He dropped his clothes by the side of the pool and walked slowly into the cold water. She followed, folding the cloak that he had given her and placing it neatly on the ground, and sat on a rock behind him, at the pool's edge, her feet trailing in the water. As he stood there, about to bathe, she cupped her hands to scoop up the cool, fresh liquid and let it fall over his head. She tentatively repeated her actions, watching for his reaction, and, when she found he did not anger, she continued, tousling and rinsing his hair, and proceeding on down to his neck and shoulders, massaging and rinsing until his back had been completely cleansed. She then sat while he finished bathing himself, and, only after he left the pool, slipped into the water to cleanse herself of the earth and forest litter, and of her own wastes, that had soiled her during her trials.

Clean and refreshed, absolved of her sacrificial role, she returned the short distance to his home where she found him preparing to leave. "Girl;" he said, more softly than before but still demanding, "I am off to study the forest. You may go where you will, but do not follow me." She nodded slightly with her eyes cast to the ground, and listened to his footsteps as he strode away. She knew he would return, and she knew also where she wished to be. While he wandered the forest that day, she turned her familiarity with the forest to service for him, gathering herbs and mushrooms, and freshening his bed with new, scented boughs.

And as for the scholar, he spent the day in his usual wanderings and observations, but now found his thoughts occasionally and unexpectedly disrupted by images of her. It disturbed him, but he put the thoughts and images of the young woman away from himself whenever they arose and felt the day still a successful study of nature. He did not take umbrage, either, when he arrived back at his shelter and found her still there and her handiwork in evidence.

They continued like this for some weeks, falling into a bit of a routine, but he found himself thinking of her more and more often as he roamed and studied. He extended his trips from daily excursions of travels of three or four days and even more in an effort to loosen her image from his mind. As Autumn began he left for a fortnight of mountain study.

Her image stayed with him, and the longer he stayed the sharper it became. Finally it overwhelmed him, and in his reverie of her he lost sight of his goal, and then suddenly realized he had lost an opportunity to observe one of the great cats that inhabited these mountains. He was instantly infuriated and started for home. The long hike back did not lessen his ire; instead, it increased in intensity with each day's travel, and, as he arrived at the encampment, he was in a fury.

"Girl!" he shouted harshly, "Here! Now!" as he tore a switch from the hazel tree. She came, and he ripped off her cloak and caught her roughly by her hair. "How dare you!" he cried as he yanked her hair and threw her this way and that. "How dare you!" he shouted again as he caught sight of her buttocks and laid the switch across them. She flinched, and cried out "Sir" to him in quiet supplication, but still he brought it down again and again, harder and sharper. And again and again she implored "Sir" to no avail. The springing of the stick with his blows tore at her soft flesh, and the welts from the thrashing burst open and bled. The sight of the thin lines of blood and the sound of her cries and sobs aroused him. His member swelled with excitement, and he cursed her again, renewing his efforts with the switch.

Exhausted, his energy spent, he ceased, and his anger abated. But not his organ's arousal. And as she lay sobbing, the young woman caught a glimpse of it and understood its relation to the yearning she felt deep in her loins. And her tears eased as she smiled to herself, pleased with his arousal for her and pleased also that his thoughts of her had been so strong, so persistent, as to raise his fury to such a level.

Her little joy was soon dashed, however, as he built a separate shelter for her, to lessen her effect on his mind. But still she served him, taking pleasure in what brief contacts she had with him, and the yearning between her thighs only grew stronger as she shuddered in excitement each time his voice called out to her. And so it went now, through Winter into Spring and on through the seasons and the year.

The first winter was still scant of snow, but the villagers no longer spoke of sacrifice: their first, so great, had yielded nothing. The elders abandoned the valley, and with them some of the younger families. When the second Winter saw mountains burdened by deep drifts, those who remained found their valley moist and fertile once again in Spring.

And so the scholar and the young woman continued through their second year, still almost the same. She served, hopeful and yearning, and added tasks, such as clothes-making and fishing, to her duties. He accepted her service, but now began to order her as well, to demand new tasks from her. "Girl!" he said to introduce each new task, and her belly trembled at the word. She now found herself observing the minutiae of the wilds and testing their qualities, and reporting all to him.

As Spring came in the third year, the scholar took himself again to the mountains. For many days he studied the melting snow, the plants whose growth it fostered, and the animals who depended upon it for their lives, recording all the details in his leather-bound notebook. On the last morning of this sojourn he awoke to a sight he had but almost seen: a great mountain cat. He watched, completely still, as it silently clambered amid the granite crags, and suddenly there were two cats! Another had joined the first, surprising it by springing out from behind a rock the first had already passed. The scholar watched transfixed as the two cats began a dance around each other. It dawned on him that this was their mating ritual, that the two were about to join. And he watched even more attentively.

The cats continued their tentative circlings for some time when the male suddenly took the female's neck in his teeth and sprung upon her back, his forelegs grasping her sides. The scholar stared intently as the male positioned himself to penetrate, and then, with no warning, the girl's image appeared before him. It startled him, this image so long absent from his meanderings, and he jumped. The cats, now startled themselves, dashed from his view, and again she had stolen from him an opportunity to observe that which few before him had. And as with the first time, he became enraged and sped off towards his abode.

The young woman was fully mature now. Her hips had widened, leaving her waist narrow above it. Her buttocks had rounded, her cheeks full with soft and smooth flesh. Her breasts had swelled, full and round, riding high and firm on her chest. She was even more beautiful than in her youth. And still she yearned for the scholar, for him to satisfy the desire between her thighs that had grown over the past years as surely as had her body.

She was sitting in a nearby clearing, a small opening in the forest canopy where the recent falling of a tree allowed the light of the sun to reach the forest floor, arranging her ebony tresses when he emerged from the woods in a fury.

"Girl!" he screamed at her, "How dare you do it yet again?" She was pleased to know that she had again filled his thoughts, but she was frightened as well, never having seen him this angered.

He grabbed her hair and dragged her to her feet as he shouted at her again, and then threw her to the ground.

"Girl! On your feet!" he commanded, but gave her no time to obey. Grasping a full hand of her hair he roughly drew her to her feet again and held her there as he tore the clothing from her. He dragged her naked body towards the fallen tree and threw her, face down, over the trunk.

As she lay there, her belly on the trunk and her feet barely grazing the ground, he took hold of a thick wand of hickory from the fallen tree. He paused a moment as he approached her, staring intently at her white buttocks, raised towards him and unprotected. Her vulnerability inflamed his passion as much as the disruption her image brought raised his anger. He felt the blood pulse to his organ as he lifted the hickory switch and brought it down hard on her white cheek. She flinched at the whistle of the wand as he whipped it through the air, but it did not prepare her for the sting. She cried out in pain, and tears came to her eyes with this first blow.

He struck again and again in his wild anger, and again he grew stiff with arousal as he struck, as he heard her cries and sobs, and as he watched the rising of the welts and the trickling of the deep red blood on her pale flesh. Soon his arousal overwhelmed his anger, and he ceased striking her, his eyes riveted to her vulva, glistening with moisture from her own excitement and arousal. Dropping his clothes as well as his hickory stick, he approached her as she lay helpless over the log, her sobs still resounding through the forest, and took hold of her by the hips.

His organ stood straight out from his body, stretched to its limit and moistened by his desire, and he brought it to the folds of her labia, pausing as his fluids joined hers. He held her firm as he pressed on her, forcing his erect penis between her labia, But no further. Her maidenhead was thick and resilient, and would not easily yield her pleasures. Provoked by desire, he pressed harder against her guardian; she winced at the pain but prayed that he would break through and sate her longing. Harder now, and her legs and belly were pressed tight against the rough bark of the fallen tree as his organ tested her hymen, and harder again until the maidenhead gave way, torn asunder by his lust, and his swollen member thrust suddenly and deeply into her vagina. He moaned with the pleasure of his entry, enveloped tightly by her virginal sheath, and she moaned as well, biting her lip against the pain of the tear while moaning in ecstasy at its mixture with the pleasure of this long-awaited entry. With heightened senses, she traced in her mind the scarlet course of her virginity as it flowed from her torn hymen and down her leg.




The Sacrifice and the Scholar



They moaned and sighed in unison as he drove himself back and forth inside her, As his tempo increased, they began to gasp in rapid, shallow breaths, beads of sweat forming on their backs, until he abruptly stopped and thrust himself as deeply into her as he could. He felt her sheath contract in waves rising up him from root to glans as his penis pulsed and erupted in jets of semen. And she felt the pulsing flow of the semen through his organ and felt his eruptions crash against the back of her vagina like storm waves against the rocks. He erupted again and again as her vagina spasmed and both their bodies shuddered and trembled until their orgasms ebbed and abated.

He slid his hands up her side, now, to her shoulders and lifted her up from the trunk to stand on her feet. With trembling steps and arm protectively and affectionately around her, he brought them to the pool to refresh and cleanse themselves in its cool waters. That night she slept in his shelter, on the moss beside his bed, and, during the night, his hand fell from the bed and brushed her cheek.

He spent the night in troubled sleep and arose in the morn knowing he must retreat to the woods and mountains to meditate. His mind was befuddled at his rage, his desires, his satisfactions, and he meant to clarify his understanding. He told her of his leaving, and she saw the confusion of remorse and pleasure in his eyes, and she understood his departure. And she stayed, awaiting his return and keeping their sylvan abode in repair.

After a fortnight he had still not resolved his confusion, still not reconciled his behaviour with his beliefs, and turned back towards his home. She had worried about him, gone for longer than ever before, and had resolved to begin to search for him at break of morn. As she prepared a light supper that night, he returned, silently taking a seat at the edge of the fire. He sat for a moment as she saw the perplexity in his eyes, and then attempted to speak.

She rose and placed her finger on his lips to silence him. She laid a fresh hazel wand in his hand, thin and supple, and then turned to kneel beside the fire. She leaned forward, her face to the ground, lifting her skirt to her waist, and he gazed at the softness of her flesh. He felt aroused, but not enraged, and he rose as he drew the smooth wood across his hand. And he understood that which she had always known.



The Sacrifice Ch. 01



**This is my first attempt, so any and all feedback is much appreciated. Many thanks to Karen_bi_uk for the editing, all mistakes are mine, not hers.**



Smoke rose in choking columns from the fallen city in the valley below. The charred scent of burning buildings mixed with the disgustingly sweet odor of roasting flesh as the flames raced over the bodies of the fallen defenders and citizens. 

The flames were a steady roar, offset occasionally by the rumble as a building collapsed, or the hoarse screams of inhabitants who hadn't been lucky enough to escape or die in the fighting. The demon's army was busy enjoying pillaging Sil Hideen, the City in the Clouds. The scene blurred before my eyes as fresh tears rolled down my face. 

There were only a dozen of us left of the fifty who'd volunteered as rearguard - the last seven members of the Cloudfolk elite warriors, the Skyguard; Renhir, mightiest wizard of the Ao, four other Ao warriors, and myself, Renhir's niece. 

The remains of the allied armies and the lucky few refugees were hopefully five miles past us by now, limping down the mountain trails as quickly as they could go. I'd lost track of the number of vicious melees we'd fought against the fragments of the demon's army who'd broken off from the looting to pursue us. 

The discipline of the horde had been shattered by the opportunity to slake their violent lusts on the remains of Sil Hideen, so no truly organized attack had overwhelmed our small force. Even so, most of the original fifty lay dead around us, and all of us but Renhir bore wounds by now. My left arm was broken and hung useless by my side, and silver blood dripped from half a dozen small cuts on my body. 

I rested my spear against my shoulder and scrubbed the tears from my eyes with the heel of my good hand. Taking a few deep breaths, I picked up my spear and moved back to my place in the now perilously thin line, at the left hand of our chief in the center. 

Below, a new sound rose from the chaos of the dying city. Low, rhythmic beating. The great drums of the horde; too soon, too soon. They would roll over our meager dozen, even in this narrow ravine, and destroy the retreating armies. My parent's deaths, the bravery and might of the allied southern armies, it would all mean nothing in the end. I thought I would begin sobbing again, but it seemed I had no more tears left. The end of our world had come, and Bright Mother had abandoned us. 

Far too quickly, black banners began to move through the trees below us, snaking up the pass. Scouts appeared, out of arrow range, and then melted back into the trees. Then the vanguard of the horde cleared the trees and advanced. I took a deep breath and prepared to die, but then the drums suddenly ceased and the enemy halted. 

Their ranks parted down the middle, and the demon himself, the self-titled Scourge of the World, mounted on a white horse, rode towards us between his ranks. He wore no armor, just leggings and a black silk tunic, soaked to the elbows with red and silver gore. His face was hidden by a black headscarf, all except his glowing golden eyes. I felt myself growing weak with terror as those eyes swept over our dozen. 

Renhir spoke a soft word in the private language of the Ao, and the aura retreated. I caught my breath and straightened myself. Bright Mother might have abandoned us, we were all going to die in a few minutes, and civilization would vanish beneath the dark wave of the horde, but I was Ao and the light lived within me. I would die on my feet with my spear in my hand. 

The Scourge rode closer, halting halfway between his army and our dozen. 

"Greetings, Renhir. I'd hoped to find you at the Queen's side, but this is as good a place as any to finally see you die." 

As he spoke, he lifted his blood-stained right hand, the fingers each with an extra joint a human wouldn't have. He was holding a slim loop of silver, with a brilliant red ruby set in it. We all recognized it. As recently as this morning, that circlet had rested in the golden hair of the Queen, serving as the Cloudfolk's crown. 

I knew she had to be dead when our lines broke before the demon's sorcery and only a fragment of the Skyguard rallied to the retreat, but it still pierced my heart to see that noble symbol hanging from those wicked fingers, an obscene trophy. 

"Quite a bauble, don't you agree Renhir? I wonder if the Cloudfolk knew what a rare treasure they used as their token of authority. You must have known, Renhir. Did you tell her?"

I did not understand the demon's reference, so I glanced at our chief. His face was drawn in grief, head bowed, lips mouthing the words of a prayer. Then suddenly his eyes lit up, silver light pouring from them, and he straightened to his full height. 

My mother had told me she'd seen that light beam out of the eyes of a seer many years before. He took a deep breath and smiled at me, a radiant smile full of peace and sadness. 

"Bright Mother has not abandoned us, Sahi" he whispered. "She only calls on us for greater courage. That is what makes us Ao."

"Dark one!" he called out. 

"I do know the power of what you hold. As you know, only one who accepts the bondage willingly may wear it around their neck. If you bind yourself to return to the north and leash your power, I will wear it for you. I will give myself, a champion of the light, to be under your power completely, in exchange for Sil Hideen. Is that a bargain?"

The Scourge sat staring at Renhir for a long moment, and then he laughed. It was a strange and beautiful sound, rich, perfect, and deep, ringing off the sides of the narrow pass, even stranger for being so perfect and beautiful from a figure of darkness and terror. It went on for a long moment, and then faded into a rich chuckle. 

"Ah, Renhir. Such nobility. You only offer this because I have defeated you so completely, but I admit the thought is tempting. However, I refuse."

The silver light in my chief's eyes dimmed, and he gave a deep sigh and began to draw in power from around him. We all knew now after the battle that morning that none of us could kill the demon, truly not even delay him long enough to save the armies, but whatever last desperate gamble Mother had shown to Renhir had failed. 

"Wait, calm yourself Renhir. I have a counter-offer." The rich deep voice still sounded amused. 

"I will not give back Sil Hideen. The Cloud Kingdom is mine by right of conquest. Neither will I take you to wear this bauble. You are too prepared for this sacrifice; you would consider even this a triumph and bear your conquest with the nobility of one who has conquered. I will offer you a version of what you desire though."

"I will bind my power at this pass for seven years. The land south of the mountains will not be scourged like the north and the Cloud Kingdom during that time. In return, another will make the sacrifice you wish to make. That one." 

One long finger uncurled from the hand holding the crown of the Cloudfolk, and my breath left me. The demon was pointing directly at me. 

My breath caught in my throat and I froze. The only thing that broke my terror was the sound of a pained grunt from Renhir. 

"Yes, I thought so. That one is precious to you, is she not? I know you have no children Renhir, but she is a blood relative of some sort, isn't she? I see a resemblance. A niece, perhaps? Ah, yes, I've guessed correctly, I can tell from your face. This will hurt you far more than sacrificing yourself. Give up one of your young, one of your own, and you will buy peace, time to prepare, time to build your defenses. Who knows, perhaps the seven years her pain and suffering buys will give you enough time to build a force that can withstand my power? How can you not take this bargain, Ao? It is the last chance for your people, for all the kingdoms of the south."

My uncle stood before the demon like a broken man. I could see him considering selling me into some mysterious torment he understood far better than I did, but then he shook his head. 

"I cannot ask another to make this sacrifice. I will not ask for Sil Hideen, or for you to be bound forever. But my suffering is surely worth the seven years you offer. Take me and let your victory be complete this day."

I couldn't see a face beneath the headscarf, but something in his stance told me that the demon would refuse. Also, somehow, I knew with a bone deep certainty that there was no power in the south now or seven years from now that could stop the sorcery which had shattered the walls Sil Hideen and the armies of the south. 

"Wait!" a voice called out in the stillness, and I was shocked to hear it was my own. 

"You cannot ask, uncle, but I can offer. If this sacrifice is one the chief of the Ao can make, then surely I, one of the least of us, can make it as well. And Scourge, I offer you this challenge – as long as the Ao can make this sacrifice, the binding will continue. After seven years are done, if another youth of the Ao finds the courage within herself to make this sacrifice, the binding will repeat. We will sacrifice ourselves at this border for eternity if necessary to hold the southlands free of your power."

I walked forward until I stood twenty paces before our thin line, directly beneath the golden leaves of the border tree. I gently rested my spear against the trunk of the tree. A weapon could not help me here. 

"Will you gamble, Scourge? I wager there will be no shortage of Ao who will sacrifice themselves to stop you. You may be immortal, but so is the courage of the Ao. For generations we have defended the weak and helpless, spending our lives if necessary. Future generations will continue that courage. Every seven years, we will sacrifice our youth and innocence before your terror. You will have a new champion of the light to torment each cycle, and we shall not fail."

At that my courage faltered. I had wagered myself and the future of my people against this horror, and I could think of nothing else to offer. 

I heard my uncle protesting behind me, but I shut his voice out and focused my gaze on those twin sparks of gold. This was my sacrifice now, not his. It only remained to be seen if the demon would accept. 

The demon dismounted his horse and strode forward until he stood before me. He was tall, so much taller than me, and a deep coppery scent rolled off him. It smelled something like fresh blood, with a promise of pain, and a ripe undertone of sex and decadence. This close, the aura of terror was not held back by my uncle's magic any more, and I trembled before him, my breath coming in low short gasps. The silver circlet hung loosely from his right hand, the ruby shining. 

His other hand shot forward with inhuman speed and seized both my wrists. Before I could process what was happening, he had yanked me up by the wrists so that I hung helplessly before him, my eyes level with his. Agony shot through my broken arm as it tried to support the weight of my body and I screamed in hoarse, broken pain. I heard a shout behind me, and the sharp lightning scent of my uncle's magic hung in the air, but all I could think of was the searing pain of my arm.

"Cease, Renhir! I am considering her offer. Stand down or all her courage goes for nothing!"

The pain in my arm didn't change, it was still a lance of white hot agony, but I took deep breaths and managed to focus on the world around me again. I hung writhing in the air, the demon's left hand casually holding my full weight off the ground. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a smoking crater in the earth – it seemed the demon had effortlessly deflected my uncle's strike into the ground. 

Ignoring my uncle, those glowing gold sparks turned to consider me. Hanging mere inches away, they were not sparks at all, but gleaming irises, slit like a cat's. I still could see nothing of his face except a thin stretch of gray skin around those glowing golden eyes, staring into my own silver orbs, as if he was reading deep within me, into my soul itself. 

I stared back at him, hypnotized like the prey I was before this inhuman predator. The hand holding the circlet came up; he gestured idly with it, and my armor and clothes turned to ash and drifted away in the wind. That same long finger he had pointed at me earlier uncurled, the tip of the finger slit in two and a yellowed claw like a lion's extended from the tip. 

The claw moved to my cheek and came back, a single tear beaded on it. I hadn't even realized I was crying again, the pain in my arm and those hypnotizing eyes were driving out all other sensations. He held the claw between us until my captured tear dripped off it, then slowly, delicately, he brought it to the corner of my mouth and dragged it down, sliding over my cheek and down my neck. 

He held it at the vein in my throat, so very sharp a point, resting on my fluttering pulse, and then slowly down over my collarbone and in between my breasts. The claw slid to the right, under the swell of my breast, and then it came up to circle my areola and glide gently across my nipple. My lungs ached from trying to breathe while hanging from my broken arm, and my chest locked to try and keep my breast from heaving forward into that dagger sharp point. 

The claw moved again, sliding down my naked stomach, and as it did so he pressed it in just slightly, slowly breaking my skin in a long line down my stomach until he reached the dark curls between my legs. I heard a mewling, pitiful whimper of pain and realized it was coming from my mouth. 

His hand rose again, that yellowed claw now coated with my silver blood. I felt a trail of blood slowly dripping into the curls between my legs as he moved the talon under his headscarf, and as it disappeared I clearly heard in the stillness the sound of him licking up my blood. Behind me I heard one of my fellow rearguard members retching into the grass. 

He tugged the bottom of his scarf up, and I saw a broad, wicked smile, with perfect white teeth except the canines, much longer and sharper than any human's. A tiny smear of my silver blood clung to his lower lip, and his tongue darted out and licked it up. 

A low, rumbling sound, like a great cat purring, came from his throat, and the smile grew broader and even more wicked if that was possible. There was a soft clink, and the crown of the Cloud Kingdom floated into the air to hang between us. 

Somehow the silver circlet had come alive – it opened and unwound like a snake, the ruby glinting at its head. It moved through the air between us and wrapped around my neck, the ruby coming to rest at the base of my throat, the silver band closing around my neck like something alive and rubbing against the ruby, hungry to be rejoined, a collar of magic and metal. 

I still hung limply from his left hand, and his right hand moved down my body again, that long finger sliding along the bleeding cut, claw retracted now, but coating itself in the blood still slowly leaking out. It slid down past the cut, following the trail of blood into the curls between my legs, then slick with my blood his long finger pressed into my innermost being and shoved painfully within me until his fingertip rested against the seal of my virginity. 

I couldn't help it. Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks. Everything was pain, from the agony in my broken arm to the fresh cut down my stomach, the lighter wounds I'd taken throughout the day in battle, the long dark finger forced into my most private space with no lubrication but my own silver blood. The knowledge that my chief and my brothers and sisters in battle were helplessly watching my humiliation only made everything worse. 

"Delicious" whispered the figure of darkness holding me, one hand around my wrists, the other clutching the space between my legs, that long finger buried inside me. 

He raised his voice so that all in the narrow pass could hear him clearly. 

"This is just a taste, sweetmeat. If you consent, that silver circlet will fasten around your neck and you will be mine, body and soul. I will introduce you a universe of pain and suffering your young mind cannot comprehend. In return I will bind my power here for seven years, and the south shall be free from my power. If another like you is foolish enough to come to this place and make the same bargain once that time is past, the bargain will renew, for as long as the warriors of light are willing to give themselves into the power of my darkness. Do you consent? If you refuse, I will give you the gift of a clean death now in respect for having the courage to make the offer at all."

I heard my uncle calling, as if from a great distance away. 

"Sahi, you do not have to do this! Mother will give us another path!" 

It was meaningless. I heard the beating of great wings in the back of my skull and knew that the goddess was with me. There was no other path. This choice was mine. My own pain and suffering, leashed to this unfathomable darkness, or the deaths thousands of others in the undefended southern kingdoms. It was no choice at all. 

"I consent". 

The silver band fused itself again to the ruby, an unbreakable circle of magic around my neck. White hot fire burned through my body. The last thing I felt before I fainted was a sharp cutting sensation as my new master's claw extended from the finger inside me to shred the thin wall of my virginity. 

*** 245 years later ***

I thrashed in panic. My arms were pinioned above my head, and a hand was between my legs, rubbing at my slick folds and circling my clit which ached for the touch. My skin was heated, my nipples hard points, a familiar ache unspooling deep within me. I realized with a burst of shame that I was sopping wet. I opened my mouth and took in a breath to scream, and suddenly my mouth was covered by soft lips, tongue darting hungrily within. 

hush, sweet shadow, it's just me. i'm here, everything's okay

The warm mental contact filled my mind and I realized it was Leli's mouth and hands upon me. Her presence unfolded in my mind, a blazing steady light full of love and care. The demon was just a dream. I was in my own furs in our tent. 

Her hand in my sex paused, waiting to see if I was alright to proceed. But with our mind link I could sense her barely leashed hunger for me, her desire to play me like a harp. That hunger was held back by her love and her care, but only barely. I opened my own mind to her at the same time that I spread my legs wider and pushed myself onto her hand, letting her know that I wanted what she wanted. 

She lifted her lips from mine and brought them to my ear. 

"It's still very early; I came as soon as my patrol rode in. Do you think you can be quiet and not wake the neighbors?"

As my waking mind processed the fact that my lover was fully dressed in hunting leathers and smelled strongly of sweat and horse, she stabbed two fingers deep into me, while slamming her thumb into my clit. I arched off the furs, my hard nipples slamming painfully into her stiff leathers, and stifled a low whine as best I could. 

A soft laugh tickled my ear. 

"I suppose not. That is one of the things I love about you sweet shadow, you never can restrain yourself. Here, this will help". 

Her other hand released my wrists for a moment to grab a fold of our sleeping furs, which she shoved deep into my mouth. I took a moment to ensure I could breathe through my nose then sent a flash of readiness through our mind link. Her left hand pinned my wrists again as her right worked between my thighs. 

I let myself go, safe and secure in her grasp, electrified by her sure touch. I writhed beneath her, panting and moaning into my makeshift gag, feeling myself draw closer and closer to the edge. I wanted to grab her and pull her into a kiss, but she held me helpless beneath her. 




The Sacrifice Ch. 01



Her two middle fingers slid in and out of me, the other fingers sliding between my outer and inner lips as she moved, the heel of her hand brushing too lightly over my clit. She brought her head down to blow gently across my stiff nipples, and as she wet each one with the tip of her tongue I cried out into the gag. When she bit down on one everything dissolved into stars as I came screaming into the thick fur, shaking under her grasp. 

As I lay shaking in the aftereffects of the orgasm, she released my wrists and tugged the fur out of my mouth, pulling me into a long, hungry kiss as she stroked my shoulders, her other hand gently tracing my sopping folds, teasing out a smaller, gentler spasm. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled myself tighter against her. 

i missed you, shining star

i can tell, sweet shadow 

A rippling trill of laughter sang through our link as she gently broke our kiss, my lower lip still held between her teeth. Her eyes met mine, shining silver in the dark. 

but what kind of welcome home greeting is this? you've gotten my hand all wet and sticky. here, smell yourself

Releasing my lip she finally pulled her hand out of my sex and brought it up beneath my nose. I inhaled deeply, savoring the smell of my juices mixed in with the rough outdoor scent of her. 

"I'm so terribly sorry, Leli. Please, may I clean it off for you?" I whispered. 

"Oh, I suppose so. You did say please." 

She rolled off of me, holding her wet hand primly above my mouth. I curled my own hands around her wrist and brought her hand down, slowly and oh so very carefully sucking my juices off each finger, brushing soft kisses against her callouses. The smell of my arousal made my nostrils flare as I lovingly cleaned her hand. When I was satisfied that I was done, I gently kissed her hand all over, pressing my lips to the back of each knuckle, then softly dried her hand with one of the bed furs.

I smiled up at her in the dark and with a wave of my hand created a small orb of silver light, which drifted up to hang just below the ceiling of our small tent. I lay there on my side staring at her, thinking again how lucky I was to have her. 

I'd chased her since we both first grew breasts and learned what grown-ups did with each other. Most of the girls in our clan had a series of romances with each other, but I only cared for Leli and Leli seemed to care for no one. She finally gave in nine months ago, just after her eighteenth birthday and a few weeks before my nineteenth. I might have been older and taller, I might have chased her, but she had always been in charge between us ever since we were kids, and that didn't change when we started sharing furs. Not that I wanted it to. 

We had similar bodies – lean, tightly muscled from our training as warriors. We both had small, pert breasts, flat stomachs, and runner's thighs, but there the similarities ended. While I was dark, with the traditional olive complexion of the Ao bloodline, Leli was shockingly fair, her skin white as a pearl and her long, delicately pointed ears signifying her Cloudfolk heritage. Only her silver eyes told that she was just as much an Ao as I or anyone else in Owl Clan. 

She kept her platinum blonde hair very short, a practical fighter's cut. My own black curls were a touch longer, tumbling over my ears and just barely short enough to stay out of my eyes. She grinned back at me and sent her own light up to dance around mine. Then she slid into a crouch and nudged my hip with her boot, tipping me onto my back. I pulled my hands behind my head and arched my back, hardened nipples thrusting proudly into the air, enjoying displaying my nudity to my heart and soul. Hearth-sisters since she joined the Ao at age seven, lovers for nine months, mind-linked blood-sisters for three months. As long as she was willing to keep me, I would happily be hers until we died. 

mm, that's a pretty show, sweet shadow. feeling you coming through our link has gotten me pretty wet myself. i think it's time you repay my favor

Leli tugged at the laces of her leathers, then kicked her boots off and shoved her smallclothes and leathers down. She was right, she was wet, her pale lower lips swollen and pink, faintly glistening in the light of our orbs. She backed over the collapsible bench we maintained our weapons on and sat down, spreading her pale legs wide and leaning her shoulders against our armor rack. 

She smiled again and beckoned me to work. I smiled back and pulled myself to my hands and knees, then crawled toward her through the furs as sensually as I could, swaying my hips. When I arrived at her legs, I kissed each of her feet then began to work my way up, alternating between each leg as I kissed my way up her strong calves, tasting the salt of her dried sweat from the road. 

When I got to her thighs she let out a low growl, tired of the tease, and buried her hand in my hair, yanking my face into her crotch. Bracing myself with one hand, I brought the other up underneath her as I licked her. I bathed my finger in her juices, slid it underneath her and circled the tight rose behind her. I loved the taste of her, rich and deep, her smell filling my nostrils as her juices slid into my mouth and smeared over my cheeks and chin. Bringing pleasure to my shining star was the only thing on my mind. 

We didn't have to worry about noise as I drove my tongue deep into her inner passageway; as loud as I was, Leli was that quiet. The only noises she ever made were the occasional soft grunt or deep breath, but I knew each one of those little noises and what they meant, the same as I knew the track of every animal in our woods. Guided by them, I knew just when to slide my slick finger into her back channel up to the second knuckle, at the same time that I pulled my tongue out of her and sucked down hard on the little bud in front. 

Her muscles spasmed, locking my head almost painfully between her legs as her fist tightened in my hair, and I felt the glowing light of her in the back of my head burst as she came, the reverberation setting off a tingling sensation in my own aroused body. 

After a long moment she loosened her grip and then slid limply off the bench to lie next to me in the furs. I cuddled into her, feeling the warm slickness of her juices coating my lips and cheeks. After a minute she made an annoyed noise then sat up and began tugging at her leather chest plate. I helped her unlace it and store it on the rack, along with her leggings and boots, and then she tugged off her tunic and tossed it in the corner. I unwound her breast binding, and then she was as naked as me, white all over except for the bright pink of her nipples. 

She pulled me back down into the nest of furs and curled up behind me, her nipples pressed into my shoulder blades, her still damp sex tight against my buttocks. She tugged the bear fur from my name-day hunt down over us, and I was a ball of safety and contentment, happily wrung out from our predawn romp and back where I belonged, within my lover's embrace. 

I gave a happy sigh as she idly traced one hand up my side, then curled it around my breast and began to gently play with my nipple. I let my orb of light wink out and began to drift back to sleep, the terrible dream almost completely forgotten, when I heard her voice softly in my mind, barely a whisper. 

i'm sorry i woke you up like that Sar. i just saw you twitching and moaning in your sleep when i came in and suddenly i had to have you. i didn't mean to scare you, i'd just been thinking about you the whole ride in on the night patrol and i couldn't stop myself.

I opened my mouth to reassure her, but she gave me a quick bite on the shoulder and continued. 

don't say anything yet, just let me finish. i'm not sure i can say this if you interrupt me. just stay quiet until i say i'm done and give you permission to talk, okay?

The fear was back. This wasn't going to be a good conversation if she was starting it like this. She couldn't be leaving me, could she? I froze, waiting for her to continue, and then I realized she was waiting for me. I whispered back to her through our link, even though I didn't want to. 

okay Leli. i promise i won't say anything until you say that you're done.

thanks. i don't really know where to start, but i guess there's no point in circling around things. i had the Calling Dream two nights ago during the middle of the patrol. i'm going to announce it at the clan gathering tonight.

I moaned deep in my throat but I couldn't say anything. She hadn't given me permission to speak yet. 

i know it was the Calling Dream; it couldn't have been anything else. i was floating over a mountain pass, watching a city burn below me, and there were Ao and Cloudfolk standing together amidst all these dead bodies. then a great shadow poured out of the city and circled all around them, and I felt pure despair.

i was just crying and hoping to wake up, but then a silver light pierced the shadow, centering around one of the Ao girls, and she walked into the shadow. it closed about her and went back down into the valley, and the sun came out again and I knew we were safe. it had to be her, blessed Sahi herself. The dream was clearer than any dream i've ever had and it didn't go away when i woke, the memory stayed.

i don't want to risk leaving you, sweet shadow, but i think this is why i was made an Ao. no one remembers the last time one of the Cloudfolk became an Ao as young as i did. as soon as i heard the stories i promised myself that i wouldn't love anyone until i was too old to be the Sacrifice. i didn't want to leave anyone behind if i was the one, that's why i held you off for so long, but i wasn't strong enough in the end. i wanted to have you, even if it would just be for nine months.

i know it's just the Calling, but now that i've had the dream i'm surer than ever. i'm going to win the lottery, i'm going to be the Sacrifice, i'm going to be the Promised One and redeem both sides of my heritage, and i'm going to lose you.

At that she broke into incoherent sobs and clutched me to her so tightly it hurt. 

I guess I should go back and explain what a Calling Dream and the lottery are, so that you understand why my heart was in my throat while she said all of that. 

Over two centuries ago, the Ao stood with the allied armies of three nations outside the walls of Sil Hideen, capital of the mountainous Cloud Kingdom. Their enemies were the invading hordes of the north, led by the immortal demon-king Ravan, who titled himself Scourge of the World. The Ao were responsible for the alliance – the northern kingdoms had fought each other while they fought Ravan, and had fallen one at a time to his grasp over the last eighty years. 

The Ao convinced the southern kingdoms closest to the mountains that Ravan would never stop of his own volition, and that their best chance was to stand together. The fact that the Cloud Kingdom's narrow passes meant they could pick the battle spot was the tipping point in persuading the other kings to commit their armies to the Cloud Queen's defense. After months of maneuvering and skirmishing, the allied armies finally committed to a final battle with the horde before the very gates of Sil Hideen. The Ao called upon their greatest magic to shield the allied armies, and they marched forward confident in the righteousness of their cause. 

They were destroyed. Ravan had been holding back his magic, letting the Ao and the allied armies become overconfident. He wanted them to commit to one decisive battle, and once they did, he let loose lightning and fire upon them. 

The Ao ward spells were shattered before him and an entire generation of southern military died. Nine out of ten southern warriors who went into the Cloud Kingdom never returned. The survivors rallied to the banner of Renhir, the chieftain of the Ao and our greatest wizard. 

As Sil Hideen burned behind them, fourteen Ao and thirty-six Cloudfolk chose to make a suicide stand in the tightest part of the pass to give the rest of the survivors time to escape. The rest of the scene was, according to history, pretty much like my dream, though the stories didn't give as many lurid details as my dream had. 

Sahi, Renhir's niece, had sacrificed herself to save the southern kingdoms and wrung a promise from Ravan that the Ao could repeat her sacrifice. Seven years later, Sahi's younger sister Amano announced that Sahi had spoken to her in a dream and it was her responsibility to make Sahi's Sacrifice again. Renhir tried to stop her, as she was the last of his bloodline, but the rest of the council knew that the south was still ruined from their losses at Sil Hideen and they took the sister to the pass. 

Ravan was waiting, a silver circlet with a ruby on it dangling from his hand. Six weeks later, Renhir burned his books of magic and threw himself from the top of the Regnier falls, and the greatest and most powerful bloodline in Ao history came to an end. 

Seven years after that, four young women came to the council of elders and said they had seen Sahi's Sacrifice in their dreams and they were prepared to give themselves to save the south. One of the four, Rachel, was a seer. She had a vision before the council, and announced that as long as the Ao stayed faithful to Sahi's pledge, Bright Mother would protect the south, and one day, she would send a promised one, who by fulfilling Sahi's pledge would bring down Ravan and free the north as well. 

All we had to do was be faithful and continue to fulfil Sahi's Sacrifice. There was still the matter of choosing which of the four volunteers would be sent to torture and death. In the end, the elders decided that if multiple volunteers came, they would hold a lottery to determine who would be sacrificed. Rachel won the first lottery, and rode with the elders to the border of the Cloud Kingdom. Ravan was waiting for her. 

Since that day, every seven years there has been a lottery, with the smallest on record being three volunteers and the largest fifty-two girls ready to be tortured to death for their people. Question not the courage of the Ao. After almost two and a half centuries with no threat from the north, the rest of the south may believe that the demon-king is just a story to frighten children with, and some southern kingdoms now believe that the Ao are a wicked folk who lured the bright kings of the south to their deaths in the Cloud Kingdom, but the Ao know the truth. 

The Ao have not forgotten, and Ao have never failed to continue the Sacrifice. "You may be immortal, but so is the courage of the Ao" – that might not have been true when Sahi reputedly said it, but since then it has become scripture for us. 

Over 245 years and thirty-five Sacrifices, a few things have become clear. Only girls get the calling dream – boy Ao may die gloriously and heroically in any number of fashions, but Sahi's Sacrifice is not one of their options. 

Second, the girl is always between 18 and 25 years old, a seven year span centered on the age Sahi was when she made the first Sacrifice. That means we are all potentially the Sacrifice. There's no time you can be born when there won't be a lottery during your window. 

Finally, forty-two years after Sahi's bargain, at the lottery for the seventh Sacrifice, we put together the last piece. Sahi had never known the love of a man when she gave herself for her people, and neither had her younger sister, 18 at the time she went to her death, or Rachel, or any of the other girls who had gotten the dream in the four decades of peace the Sacrifices had won for the south. Those three things didn't guarantee you'd get the Calling Dream, but no one ever got it without meeting those three criteria. 

Ao being the stupidly brave types that we are, as soon as that became clear, a pretty serious taboo arose about girls having sex with boys before their Calling window came up. Young lust being what is, we ended up with a lot of girls seeking pleasure with girls, and boys with boys. That didn't help the Ao's reputation with the Southern Kingdoms. 

There are two ways to become Ao. You either get born to Ao parents, like I did, and are raised on a steady diet of tales of glorious deaths fighting evil across the southern lands, with no death more glorious than the Sacrifice, or Bright Mother senses that you have the nature of an Ao and turns your eyes and your blood silver, which can happen any time from childhood to old age. 

When that happens, if you're in the wrong part of the south, your village burns you as a demon or a changeling or whatever their local legend is. If you're in one of the parts of the south that remembers, your village sends a message to the Ao and we come and take you away from your life and teach you to be one of us. That's how Leli became an Ao. 

Cloudfolk are almost as rare in the south these days as Ao are. Most of their civilians had taken shelter in the high valleys, planning to come back down after the horde was defeated. When Sahi's Sacrifice bound the demon's power in the north, they ended up on the wrong side of the line. No one knows what became of them, but it can't have been anything good. 

The few thousand Cloudfolk who made it out with the retreating remnants of the southern armies didn't find a very warm welcome in the kingdoms that had sent their armies into the Cloud Kingdom to be destroyed. The survivors ended up becoming nomads, travelling horse traders and tinkers, staying only a little bit of time near each town to trade, leaving before the locals could decide the "Knife-ears" were responsible for any missing goods and come out with pitchforks and torches. 

One thing they held fast though – however unreliable the memories of the rest of the south might be, the Cloudfolk remembered what happened at Sil Hideen. There had been seven of them who walked out of the mountains alive after being eye-witnesses to Sahi's Sacrifice, and they knew that she and the thirty-four girls who followed her were the only reason any of them roamed free in the south. The Cloudfolk honor the Ao and respect the Sacrifice. 

Leli was a direct descendant of one of those last seven Skyguard from my dream, making her the closest thing the modern Cloudfolk had to a noble class, but when Leli's eyes turned silver on her seventh birthday, her parents sent a message to the Ao that same day to come and get her. 

Given that history, I could imagine why Leli was so sure she would win the lottery. She had to feel like she had a good chance to be the Promised One. Ao who are made instead of born always tend to be a little bit nobler and even more crazily brave than the rest of us. 

As a noble member of a rare people who had then been chosen even more rarely by a goddess, Leli felt like it was destiny, not blind chance guiding her. Given that she had a pretty high opinion of herself, it made sense that she thought she might be not only the Sacrifice for our time, but also the legendary Promised One, who bring down Ravan with her Sacrifice. Suddenly all the ways she had put me off and stalled our love for years before finally giving in started to make sense. In hindsight I was surprised I'd actually won her; she must have loved me more than she showed. 

There was only one problem with Leli's narrative, but she didn't know it. The dream she described to me wasn't nearly as clear and vivid as the one she'd woken me up from. And it was the seventh night in a row I'd suffered through the exact same dream.



The Sacrifice of Victoria



 (C) 2006 Rachel Gumm. You may freely distribute this story digitally, but only in full, crediting me as the author. I welcome feedback. You can e-mail me at the address in my profile.

*

"It's time, Vicky," informed Michelle enthusiastically as she dangled two short chains in her hand. She knew I hated being called that. She must have been in a playful mood again.

I stifled a groan. I hadn't realised it was noon already, and had only just finished breakfast. Sunday was the only day I could actually lie in. Trying not to show how tired I was, I followed Michelle into our bedroom.

After rummaging around in my underwear drawer, Michelle pulled out a bright pink bikini top and threw it at me. "Here, try this on," she said, as if I had a choice. I wasn't really in the mood to dress up for her today, but I knew from experience not to ever question the clothes she picked out for me to wear. "You might as well leave your jeans on," she told me. "They'll be easier to clean than the chair after the puddle of precum you always make." I felt my cheeks change colour, almost matching the bikini top.

When she said I could leave my jeans on, what she meant was that I could take them off while she lubed up a vibrating egg. She turned it onto a very low setting, just enough to keep me aroused but nowhere near enough for me to even entertain the idea of having an orgasm.

After I slid off my briefs, the same pink as strawberry milkshake, she slipped the egg inside me. It was purring like a pussycat. She kept it in place by getting me to wear the black latex briefs she got me a few weeks ago. Already I could feel the egg's soft vibrations starting to work on me, making me start to lose my concentration. Meanwhile, Michelle had started rummaging around in our blanket box, pulling out a head harness and some padlocks. I put my jeans, ankle socks and trainers back on, pretending not to notice her choice of gag this time.

Finally, she led me into the room we'd converted into a makeshift office. A large, sturdy wooden desk took up almost half of the small room, with a tiny silver and white computer and matching display, keyboard and mouse neatly laid out on top of it. The only feature of the desk that looked out of place was the D-ring secured to the middle of its surface, just in front of the keyboard.

I sat down on the swivel chair in front of the desk, my trainers flat against the varnished wooden floor. Another D-ring had been fixed in place on the floor, in front of the chair, and it took Michelle less than a minute to fasten comfortable yet strong ankle cuffs above my socks, threading one of the small chains through the hook and padlocking both ends of it to the cuffs.

Less than another minute, and she had done the same to my wrists in front of the keyboard. It was her way of ensuring I wouldn't be tempted to start rubbing my crotch once I got going. Even if I got carried away with myself, I couldn't do any more than feebly attempt to play with my nipples. Believe me, I'd tried.

"I've got some feedback from your last story," said Michelle with all the professionalism of a secretary as she picked up the head harness. I obediently opened my mouth as she placed its ball gag between my lips and strapped the harness in place around my head.

"Several readers thought that you didn't go into enough detail about the slave's innermost thoughts last time. You know, what turns her on so much about being tied up and made to do things for her master." I managed not to wince as she tightened the straps as far as they would go around my chin and the back of my head. "Some people also thought you should show rather then tell all the sexual stuff. Stop insinuating things. When the slave is about to fellate her master, don't just stop there. Show her doing it. Show her loving it. And show _why_ she loves it. OK?"

I nodded and hummed "OK."

"As usual, your quota's a thousand words of final draft. You're going to have to meet it in the three hours you've got if you want to have any orgasms tonight, otherwise you won't be allowed to have any until next week. Are you ready?"

I nodded again. The egg had only been buzzing inside of me for a few minutes, and already I couldn't stand the thought of not being able to climax for a whole week. Even a few hours seemed an eternity away.

Looking down at my face, Michelle must have realised how worn out I was. "You know, I'm doing you a favour, motivating you like this," she said. "Centuries from now, long after we're both gone, your stories will live on. They'll be copied and read forever. Really, I'm making you immortal. You should be thanking me."

I tried my best to say "thank you, mistress," but it came out too muffled to make any sense. Michelle only worked out what I'd said because of the context.

"Hey, cheer up," she insisted, her tone of voice softer. "Show me a smile."

I smiled as best I could behind the harness. The next thing I knew, a camera had come out of nowhere and she'd taken a photo of me. I dreaded to think where these pictures she was so fond of taking might end up. She wasn't the only person who appreciated the sight of a bound woman in her mid twenties.

Satisfied, Michelle gently kissed me on the forehead, kissing one of the harness's straps as much as me, before leaving the room. For a while, I wondered if she was actually right about making me immortal, or my pen name, at least. At any rate, she really would have been doing me a favour every Sunday if she didn't enjoy dominating me as much as I enjoyed submitting to her.

I made an effort to stop letting my thoughts wander and focus on my task. I'd have to work hard to hit that quota.