0 comments/ 12252 views/ 1 favorites A Song For Hecate Ch. 01 By: UnholyArenas Note: This story takes place on a planet where men do not have the same legal rights that women enjoy. All adult males are routinely referred to as "boys" as a sign of their inferior social status (much as women in the 1950s in the U.S. were often dismissively called "girls"). No sexual activity involving minors should be inferred. All of the characters in this story, male and female, are 18 years of age or older. * Hundreds gathered at the grand pavilion: schoolgirls, priestesses and gentle ladies. Children were not permitted to attend the morning ceremonies. Neither, of course were males. Doubtless there were a few bold boys in the margins, disguised as females. Such wickedness would go unpunished so long as the boys were timid and discreet. Amidst such a formidable crowd and on the grounds of a mighty and unfamiliar palace I was briefly lost and nearly late, but at the last forgivable moment I found my post in the vestibule behind the main stage and there I met my nemesis. She was short and petite. Her eyes were blue. Her face and hands- the only fraction of her skin that I had ever seen- were reddish brown. Her name was Idris. We wore school uniforms: dark blue robes embroidered with bright arabesques. Our hair was entirely concealed beneath dark scarves. Because it was a high ceremony, we wore yellow sashes. Yellow was our school color. Eleven achievement badges were pinned to my sash. Idris had twelve badges because she had cheated me of the school prize for musical excellence. I saluted her because she was a captain and I was her lieutenant. These were only academy ranks, of course, but Idris would insist on every formality and I did not doubt that she would welcome the opportunity put me on report. And yet I saluted her, because I knew that it was probably the last time I would ever have to acknowledge her superiority. We had been chosen for investiture. Soon we would be probationary priestesses, social equals. Idris told me that she was glad that my petition had been accepted. She yammered on, failing as usual to notice that she was the only one who wanted to start a conversation. "Congratulations! I knew you would make it. You're so damn smart. I never would have made it through composition and theory without your help. We should make a pact. Whichever one of us makes full priestess first becomes the other's patron. We can help each other up the greasy pole. We Yellow School girls have to stick together, right? Tit to Tomb, you and me against the order and every faction. Remember all the fun we used to have? The contraband. The discounts at Mei's." "You mean those one hundred percent discounts? You didn't get caught. I did." "You weren't caught." "Yes I was. I almost got arrested." "Mei couldn't prove anything. Ergo, you weren't caught." "I almost got sent to the confessional." "But you kept the faith. We stuck together. We looked out for each other. You know, when we were both tapped to make rank, you could have been captain. You could have had it. All you had to do was tell them what I kept in that bottom drawer." I felt sick. For the first time I knew what I had long expected: she knew about the library basement. And what I had done there was far worse than our petty thefts, or the bawdy novels Idris kept in her bottom drawer. One word to the assessment panel, and I would never be a priestess. "You're right," I said. "Tit to tomb. Yellow school girls for life." A priestess struck the great bell above and drew from its ancient throat the call of ruin and brass. Idris led me to the chamber of brief confinement. Two penitents stood in separate cages. One was a boy. He was about my age, with black hair and a pleasant shape; not so muscular as the statue of Proud Labor, but fit and trim. I didn't know his name. Except for a lacy pink silk pouch or thong he was entirely naked. The bailiffs had removed all his body hair, apart from the inadequately covered black patch between his legs. The second penitent was a woman, almost twice the boy's age. Her name was Ann. In Yellow School she had been my classical dance teacher. Classical dance costumes were exceedingly modest and I had never seen her bare limbs before. I had never even seen her uncovered hair. Now every part of her was exposed, save for a narrow strip between her legs. As a penitent, she had shaved her head, and her hair was just beginning to grow back in. She was slightly fat. I had never noticed that before. Her breasts were large, for a dancer's, and firm. Her areolas were wide and dish shaped. Neither woman nor boy had been allowed to wash. Their odors were feral, frightening. They were nervous. So was I. I was not accustomed to such nudity. Ann's nakedness made me particularly uneasy. She had been an honored lady, my instructor, and I was ashamed to see her in this state. I realized then that the only reason the priestesses had chosen Idris and I for this assignment was because the presence of former students would enhance her humiliation. Idris opened a cabinet and withdrew the ritual implements: her rod and scissors and my rings and golden chain. The bell sounded again, and above us, on the stage, a small orchestra began to play. "Let's do it," Ann said. She seemed almost eager. Because they served only a ceremonial function, there were no locks on the cages. Idris opened the doors. Up a narrow stair of tiled wood and through a black curtain we made our way to the stage. When I saw the audience in their hundreds I felt a twitch of fright, though my part in the ritual was an incidental one. A small pool was set into the stage, beside an open shower. Idris laid her rod of office gently across the boy's bare back and he stepped into the light. The audience whistled and cheered his body. He began to sing, accompanied by five ladies playing flutes, strings and a drum. They played well, and the boy had a pleasant voice. He sang praises to the goddess, and apologies. In his song, he avowed his honest desire for penance and begged to be stripped and driven naked through the street. His sex swelled and strained against the lace. At the appropriate moment, Idris grabbed the string and cut it free. The wreck of the thong fell across his feet and the crowd howled. It was the first time I had ever seen so many women in a rage of lust and I was terrified. With the rod, Idris directed the boy to a low bench, a bench that seemed made for children, where he sat and nursed his shame. He tried to draw his knees to his chest, but Idris made him part his legs. He covered his cock with both hands. Ann appeared and sang of her crimes: of how she had seduced the virgin boy, a boy who had been trained to serve only the goddess. Idris destroyed her last scrap of clothing, and made her sit red faced and naked, hip to hip beside the boy. The quintet played on. Two priestesses stepped on stage. With shears and razors, creams and tweezers, they publicly removed the penitents' pubic hair. After the shaving and final depilation, a priestess pierced the woman's genitals, so that she could be fitted with the smaller of the two rings I carried. Ann winced, but she did not cry out. I was supposed to rest the smaller ring against the woman's clitoris and fit the larger one around the boy's penis, but I was far too nervous. Idris was visibly disappointed in me. She took the rings and did the deed with her own hands. Without soap or sponges, the woman and her young lover showered together before the crowd. We gave them no towels; the summer sun would dry them soon enough. By means of the rings and the golden chain, Idris tethered the penitents. I led them off the stage, down the wide center aisle, down the pavilion steps and onto the street. As the leader of the detail, Idris followed and menaced us all with the rod. Between the grand pavilion and the seaport there ran a broad and tiled avenue or forum, rich in great fountains, small gardens and erotic statues of green brass. On either side little temples of stone, brick homes and shops stood open. Ladies and their docile husbands and servants crowded around the tables of the sidewalk cafes to watch me lead a wet woman and boy upon a golden chain. In my fantasies, it was not Ann, but Idris I led with her disgraced man. I dreamed her naked and tethered by the cunny. I dreamed her bare legs and belly, red and brown and dark and in my dream she was entirely submissive to my will. A Song For Hecate Ch. 02 Ashlyn Selvatico Note: This story takes place on a planet where men do not have the same legal rights that women enjoy. All adult males are routinely referred to as "boys" as a sign of their inferior social status (much as women in the 1950s in the U.S. were often dismissively called "girls"). No sexual activity involving minors should be inferred. All of the characters in this story, male and female, are 18 years of age or older. * We passed the harbor office and entered the lorcha by covered gangway. A line of sailors were packed in the tube, waiting to board. Naturally, they were all women; every ship carried a cabin boy or two but they were seldom granted leave. The sailors were all in their shore clothes, which were a compromise between the all-concealing robes of my homeland and the immodest dress of those who live upon the sea. Confined bodies made the air of the gangway thick and hot. There wasn't an inch of room between Idris, myself and our charges. I placed Ann between myself and the boy, so that he wouldn't brush against me. The press of bodies made me uncomfortable. So much worse it must have been for the chained and naked ones. Ann was smiling- from embarrassment but also, arousal. The boy's ringed cock was behind his hands. He grinned sheepishly. Ahead of me a girl my age turned and stared. She was also dressed in formal school robes, but the color of her braid made her Red School. "Is your boy for sale?" Idris pretended to be bored with the girl's obtuse question. "We're taking him south, for the bathing. After that, who knows? It's up to the high priestess." "Can I talk to him?" Idris shrugged, and the girl took that for permission. "What did you do?" "I betrayed the goddess," said the boy. "Was it worth it?" He blushed. "Yes." "What are they going to do to you?" Ann answered her. "They gave us a choice. We could be banished to separate worlds, or remain together while we performed five penances." "Which five?" "Submission, humiliation, service, pleasure and nudity." The schoolgirl laughed. "Sounds awesome." I almost felt sorry for the boy. Boys were conditioned from infancy to be faithful, honorable, modest and chaste. It must have been torture, to be stripped in front of so many leering faces. And it wasn't really his fault; he had been seduced by a wicked woman. He would have earned my pity, if he had seemed sufficiently mortified. On the contrary, he seemed the worst sort of wanton. He was enjoying his penance too much and he seemed enamored of the very woman who had ruined him. One of her feet was pressed on top of his. This was a surreptitious form of intimacy, their way of comforting each other without punishment. Idris noticed. I expected her to scold them, but she just smiled. Until we got to Graysport, we would all have to share a day cabin. It was small and dark and the ceiling was too low for any of us to stand. Two long, cushioned benches faced each other. I sat beside Ann and the boy took one end of Idris' bench. Again, the lovers allowed their bare feet to touch. Idris should have stopped this unauthorized contact. She indulged them too much. "You can speak, if you wish." Ann laughed. I don't suppose that their affair had ever been based on conversation. For days they'd been allowed to speak, but not to touch. Words did not interest them now. One touch from him would be dearer to her than an ode. If the priestesses had intended to cool their lust through public humiliation, the effort was entirely misplaced. Idris leaned into the boy and whispered loud so all could hear: "Do you want to make love to her?" He nodded. She turned to Ann. "You still want to fuck him?" Her toes curled. "Always." "Even if you had to do it right here, right now, in front of your old students?" Ann flexed her feet, shifted in her seat. "A week ago, when we started our penance, we were wearing ceremonial robes. Every day they made him take off one piece and they made me take off one piece too, in front of a crowd. Not a big crowd, like today- maybe thirty or forty people, priestesses and boys. The bailiffs stripped us of one garment per day. They caged us where we could see each other, but we couldn't touch. And today, when we lost that last little scrap, and my man and I were standing bare pussy and balls out naked- I would have fucked him right there if you'd let me." The boy's hands were on his knees. It took all of his conditioning not to touch her, or his own erect cock. "Did the priestesses tell you how long you would have to do penance?" Idris asked. "My virginity belonged to the goddess," he said. "We took something from her that can't be replaced." Ann inhaled sharply and stretched out on the bench, as if she were posing for our pleasure. "We're going to receive advanced conditioning. When it's done, we'll be unable to wear clothes. Not just legally prohibited- mentally unable to tolerate clothing." "And that's punishment?" Idris said. "Well, it fits the crime," Ann said. "There's also the mockery, the humiliation, constant arousal without release." "Which you love," Idris said. Ann grinned. "Maybe a little." "What about the boy?" I said. "What do you mean?" "He's ruined now. Doesn't that bother you?" "He's in love. No priestess has ever been loved like he loves me. He'd tear out his own teeth and drink bleach if I asked him to." She opened her legs and stretched her arms over her head, teasing her lover with her body. "But I'd rather he just fucked me, right here and right hard." I had been too distracted to notice, but while Ann was talking, Idris had removed her shoes and socks. "I will consider your needs. But first, the boy will suck my toes." He looked to Ann for approval. "You heard the captain," Ann said. He smiled and dropped to Idris' knees. Gently, he kissed the tops of her feet. Idris looked at me. "Take off your shoes." I shook my head. Idris was in charge of the detachment but this was an illegal order and it was my duty as a cadet officer to refuse it. She stared at me as if she thought my fear of her was stronger than my duty to the goddess. She seemed to think that the knowledge she had of my wickedness gave her the right to make me complicit in her own. Now the boy was nibbling on each of her toes in turn and her eyes were half closed with delight. The boy, too, seemed to be enjoying himself. I removed my shoes and socks. Idris laughed. "Ann, you're going to do for her exactly what your young man is doing for me." I had misunderstood. I had thought Idris would make the boy suck my toes after he was done with hers. Now, in one sense I was relieved. The thought of even a casual touch from this sweaty, unwashed and naked boy frightened me. I think if he had put his mouth on my foot I would have screamed. But in a way, having Ann do it was even worse. I was embarrassed at the thought of my old teacher debasing herself like this. At least she didn't drop to the floor. She turned to face me. With one gentle and yet aggressive motion, she took my right foot in both hands, rested it between her thighs and massaged it. This was not the first time I had ever felt those strong hands on my feet. Once at the end of her class I had complained about a cramp and she had rubbed the aches away. I had completely forgotten about it until the moment her hands were on my feet. At the time, this experience had not seemed at all sexual. Now that I knew about her yen for self-abasement, I wondered if the act had given her an erotic thrill. That after dance class massage had felt marvelous. It was even better now, because this time I felt unspeakably wicked. This time she was naked and wet with lust. With a tender thoroughness, Ann massaged my right foot, then my left. The room had become unbearably hot and I envied Ann her nudity. She kissed the sole of my left foot and I thought that I would die of our wickedness. She nibbled and licked, then sat on my left foot, grinding her pussy against it as she took my right foot in her mouth and sucked my toes. Idris pushed the boy away. "Enough foreplay. It's time for these sluts to start screwing." Ann lowered herself to the floor and kissed the boy savagely. Their sweat was in the air and I felt in on my face. I was sweating in my heavy robes. Ann spread her legs. The boy put his mouth on her mound and stroked his sex. "No, no, no, no," Idris said. "Enough of all that. Put your cock in before you rupture something." Ann said, "He's never been inside me." "What? That's insane," Idris said. "You're doing penance for fucking and you've never even been fucked?" "We've made love many times," said the boy. "Just not like that." "It's all right," Ann said. "I want you inside me." There was a knock on the door. When it opened, a moment later, the lovers were back on opposite benches, breathing heavily and reeking of girl juice and perspiration. Two sailors walked in. They were wearing brightly patterned sleeveless tunics and their legs and feet were bare. Where I came from such dress would be considered indecent but it was common enough at sea. I hoped that they wouldn't notice that my feet were still wet from Ann's pussy and tongue. There's no way that they could have failed to notice that the penitents were mad with lust. One of the sailors was an old friend of Ann's. She introduced herself to Idris and extended the captain's apologies for our poor lodging. "We should be in Graysport by dinner. I told the captain that Ann was a dancer. We were hoping that she would dance for the crew." "I think that's a great idea," Idris said. "We were in her class. But we never got to see her dance bare." "I did," the sailor said. "Really?" Idris asked. "Just once. It was a private party." She winked at Ann. "What should we have her dance? The Sun and the Rain? Or the Joy of the Liberator?" "How about the Witch's Dream?" "I'm not sure I remember that one," Ann said. "I think you do," the sailor said. "But you ought to wash up first. I know they like to keep you penitents dirty, but the captain insists on good hygiene." "We could use a long bath." The sailor laughed. "Where do you think you are, the Summer Palace? Come with us, and we'll find you a bucket and some soap." Ann's sailor friend asked if she could take her for a while. Idris agreed, and I could see from Ann's glee- and her friend's- that they were going to make love. On the off chance Ann's boyfriend failed to read their intentions, Idris said: "You know Ann is going to fuck that sailor girl." "Probably." "Aren't you jealous?" "She likes sex. I'm not jealous, I'm just frustrated." The other sailor returned with a bucket and soap for the boy. There was no washcloth. The boy wet the soap and rubbed it into his pits. He scrubbed his cock thoroughly. His eyes were locked on Idris as he crossed the line from thorough cleanliness to masturbation. He was daring her to stop him. "Let me come." "I'm not stopping you," Idris said. "I can't. It's the conditioning. I can't come without a woman's permission." "Poor boy. How long did Ann make you lick her pussy, before she let you come?" "The first time- it was hours. I didn't mind. I was just happy to see her naked. After that- I don't know. It depended on how much of a hurry we were in. We had to be careful, not to get caught." "But you were caught." I pitied him. "You have my permission." "The words have to be exact," he said. "You have to say, come sweet slave, sweet slut, surrender and praise my body with your seed." "Don't say it," Idris said. "You'll spoil him." "Come sweet slave, sweet slut," I said. "Surrender and praise my body with your seed." When Idris grasped that she couldn't stop me she threw him some scrap to catch his juice in. The moment the last word was out his body shuddered and he moaned as he came. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you, little goddess." I didn't realize until hours later that the scrap she had thrown was one of my socks. A Song For Hecate Ch. 03 Ashlyn Selvatico Note: This story takes place on a planet where men do not have the same legal rights that women enjoy. All adult males are routinely referred to as "boys" as a sign of their inferior social status (much as women in the 1950s in the U.S. were often dismissively called "girls"). No sexual activity involving minors should be inferred. All of the characters in this story, male and female, are 18 years of age or older. Upon the open deck, Ann danced the Witch's dream for the captain's pleasure and for the amusement of her crew. I could tell immediately why I had never seen that dance at school: it was deliciously obscene. Most of the crew was there, even to the cabin boys and serving girls. The captain had the cabin boys strip, because she thought it unseemly that any male should remain clothed while Ann danced bare. None seemed to mind. I gathered that this captain's boys were accustomed to frequent nudity. Most of the crew stood, but Idris and I sat with the captain at a table. Sometimes Ann would leap or writhe upon the table, but sometimes she needed the wider space of the quarterdeck. I had always admired the grace and style of our classical dancers. A good dancer can make the heavy skirts and spires of her costume into living extensions of her art. Classical dances are sublime; they appeal to the mind. Above all they celebrate precision, the control that only comes with years of meditation and the utmost discipline of body and mind. This dance was genius of another kind. Ann's movements were sensuous, but graceful and strong. Ann was a better dancer than I had ever expected. Beneath her fat, which was by no means excessive, she possessed a powerful physique. While she danced, Ann flirted with the captain, her sailor friend, her young lover, and me. When the dance was done, the captain insisted on washing Ann's face and feet with her own hands. At Graysport, priestesses took charge of our penitents and I did not Ann or the boy for many days. Idris and I entered the academy there and resumed our education. Our tests and studies kept us busy. As candidates for the priesthood we were required to learn new rituals, and also to hone our musical and linguistic skills. Idris and I shared a room at the dormitory. All day we practiced and studied. Idris did very well. I regret to say that I fell behind. I was finding it difficult to concentrate. Worst of all, my old, unmentionable vice had returned. My experiences on the lorcha had inspired its imagination. I concealed it from Idris- with some difficulty, given our cohabitation- but lived in fear of discovery. During the first week the faculty evaluated our skills and decided I needed more dance classes. Idris did well enough that she was excused. On the first day I discovered that we wouldn't be in classical dance costumes. We were expected to wear body stockings, and to dance barefoot. At my old school we weren't allowed to let our ankles show. Now it was a requirement. The body stocking covered most of my skin, but the contours of my body were visible and I felt naked. At least there were no boys in the class. The class met every day for three hours. My experience was limited. I was totally unprepared. After the first four days I fell hopelessly behind. Ritual and ceremony classes were held on top of Stig Mountain. Technically, it was not a mountain at all, just a large, rocky hill that stood alone on a rolling plain. We chanted and sang on the edge of Ruby Chasm, where the High Priestess of Darkness had cast traitors and regicides, back in the bad old days. Ten Pin River fell into the chasm by cataracts, and emptied into the mist and thunder of Lake Giantess. Idris stayed out late every night. Usually I was asleep when she came in, when she came in at all. On the third day of Nephrite, as I lay exhausted from dance and athletic training, someone slipped a note under our door. I was sure it was for Idris, and I was too sore to move, so I didn't pick it up. I dozed and woke up after dark. Idris still wasn't back. I turned on the light, and remembered the note. All it said was "Loviatar 14/Nephrite 6/6th hour." There was a simple drawing of a cuttlefish at the bottom. Loviatar was one of the music temple, and the cuttlefish was the symbol of the Blue Coral Faction. One of the athletics instructors told me that Ann was undergoing advanced conditioning. She was on display at Graysport Museum of Art. My afternoon was free, so I decided to satisfy my curiosity. Ann and her boyfriend were kept in a large room, separate from the other exhibits. The room was dim, but their naked bodies were well lit; I noticed that they were still wearing the rings that Idris had placed on their genitals. Invisible force beams suspended them above the floor while beams of a more insidious sort played upon their skin and tickled their pleasure centers. The mechanism kept them in a state of constant arousal without orgasm. Although they could move a little, the beams kept their arms and legs spread and prevented them from touching themselves. Nor were they permitted to touch each other. There was no cage or glass wall; the force beams prevented spectators from getting too close. The walls were covered with pictures of the pair being humiliated in various ways. Photographs of their march from the pavilion showed me in my school uniform, leading the pair on the golden chain. A schedule was posted by the door. The penitents were suspended for nine hours a day, with two half-hour breaks. Breaks were scheduled so that at least one of them was suspended at all times. In the evenings the boy was kept in confinement while Ann performed various duties. They slept in different buildings near the museum and they were never allowed to meet outside of the exhibit. Although they were inches apart and able to feel each other's heat and smell each other's sweat they would not be allowed to touch until the conditioning was complete. During their breaks they were allowed to drink water or use a toilet that stood in an open alcove, in full view of the museum patrons. There was a cot on the floor. Their bodies were beautiful and their expressions, tortured with pleasure, were sublime. They were trapped in a sort of foreplay, infinitely prolonged. I hoped that the boy wouldn't recognize me. It was rather dark, after all, except where they were floating. I knew I shouldn't watch but I wanted to speak with Ann, so I left the exhibit room and returned during her break. Now the room was full of spectators. The force beams released her on schedule. Immediately, Ann went to the cot and lay on her back. Her audience whistled and cheered. The boy was almost directly over her. With savage energy, she began to masturbate. At first I wondered that she could finger herself with such abandon, with so many people watching. But of course, the people were the point. She was performing for them. She'd been kept on the edge of orgasm for two and a half hours, and this was the only release that she was permitted to enjoy. There was a small towel on the cot, and it must have had his scent on it, because she held it to her face while she diddled. As she neared climax she rubbed it all over her body, and she squeezed it between her thighs when she came. She was looking at me. I ran out of the room, and I was too embarrassed to return. I kept my appointment at Loviatar temple. It seemed deserted. Room 14 was a large office on the first floor. Three women were waiting for me. They wore priestly garb, golden masks and black robes. Brightly-colored belts identified their ranks. The senior priestess invited me to sit. "We are sisters of the Blue Coral Faction. You have heard of us, I think." "Everyone's heard of you." "Would it surprise you to learn that we have monitoring your progress for several years now?" "A little." "We are always looking for fresh talent. You are a first rate musician, and an accomplished young scholar. If you were to petition us, your application would be considered very seriously." "What do I have to do?" "Are you interested?" "Of course I am." "Continue in your studies. We will contact you with further instructions." "Masks are cheap. How do I know that you're really Blue Coral?" She removed a ring from her finger and handed it to me. "I believe you know what this is." It was made of jade and carved with certain patterns that are only described in rare, forbidden volumes. I'd seen one of them before, and I knew it could be no forgery. "Turn now, and leave without looking back."