Talla's Fallen Temple Ch. 01

"Your name," he repeated.

"Oh!" she exclaimed brightly, apparently surprised. "I'm Erin."

Her bouncy energy was bordering on irritating, but he didn't have the energy to be annoyed. Everything he owned was dedicated into driving his body forward in pursuit of the flesh under the fluttering white skirt ahead of him.

Looking closely as she galloped along the cobblestone, he tried to tell if she was wearing anything underneath that skirt. He couldn't be sure. Twice now his bed had been graced by girls from Form. One of them actually wore underwear of a type that was reduced in the rear to barely a thread, buried between her cheeks. Erin was either naked under that skirt or wearing that kind of underwear.

"Alright," she said, slowing her pace. "Time for some sit-ups. You first."

It was easier this time, perhaps allowing for the limits of his endurance. She sat on his feet while he did ten sit-ups.

"My turn," she announced.

That was a relief. He would get a break while she did something. Deciding that it was best to put that time to good use, he inhaled as deeply as he could.

As Erin lay on her back and he took his place sitting on her feet, he got a good look up her skirt. Seeing the line of his gaze, she smirked.

"Don't worry," she chided him patronizingly. "You'll get to do me, too."

She started doing her sit-ups, having a much harder time of it than he had had. When she got to five, she pulled her feet out from under him.

"Ten more for you," she ordered, taking her position.

Hell.

He pumped out ten more, feeling a burning in his stomach as he reached the end.

"Excellent," she praised him.

There was no rest after that. She pulled on his arms and got him upright so they could start running again.

Zhair'lo was sure that the pace was slower, but there was nothing otherwise to distinguish this from the the run with Rh'ris. All he understood was that, frustrating as it was, he had to follow Erin. Something inside him was driving his legs, pumping his arms, motivating his brain to heed her instructions.

So around and around they went. Sit-ups and push-ups every other lap, with Zhair'lo acquiescing to every exercise demanded of him.

He was trying to count the number of circuits he had made, hoping that he had counted them correctly with Rh'ris and that Erin would stop at the same point. Five times with the push-ups and four with the sit-ups, right?

When they stopped at what he thought ought to be the ninth and therefore last set of exercises, Erin had him doing sit-ups again.

'Ten and five and ten,' he told himself, counting off her exercises alternating with his. It was a song in his head, those three numbers. Over and over again, tapped out inside his skull until his brain went entirely numb.

When he finished his last set, he watched in dumbfounded amazement as she unlaced her skirt and left it lying on the cobblestones. He top went next. He found himself staring at a very beautiful, entirely naked, skinny girl.

Her eyes met his, some sharp analysis burrowing into his skull. What was she looking for? What was any of this for?

Reaching some point of mental satisfaction, she nodded at him sagely and stood up.

"Almost done," she said. "Let's go."

She was going to run wearing nothing but her sandals?

Apparently.

He was now pursuing a naked girl, for reasons unclear, around a cobblestone alleyway deep inside the Temple. He was going to have sex with her, just like that last girl he'd chased. And maybe then, if he was lucky, he could come inside her and then pass out. Or drop dead. Either one would be fine.

A couple weeks and few days before, he had considered the advent of a girl named Atani accidentally exposing herself to him. She had then been forced, by her superior, to suck on his penis, been whipped with a thorned branch and then jerked him out all over her breasts.

He had decided then, as that girl had dashed away to her next assignment with her semen filled top, that adulthood was outright fucking weird.

Zhair'lo acknowledged, as she chased Erin, that it was still getting weirder.

Time passed more quickly, it seemed. Whether it was due to his state of incapacity being generally increased or the distraction of the spectacularly displayed specimen of femininity pumping her legs in front of him, he couldn't say.

Gods, those muscles ...

Erin grabbed his hand to slow him down and pulled him back through the entrance to the track. Wiping away the sweat that stung his eyebrows, he was barely able to note that there were only two girls in little white skirts left in the room through which Erin dragged him. The new room into which she took him had a very small bed at a curious height.

Curious, but not mysterious.

Zhair'lo rolled his eyes in bitter realization.

Erin, already bereft of clothing, sprightly hopped up on bed and spread her legs in welcome.

He paused, looking carefully into her eyes.

She smiled and nodded as if that was exactly what she expected him to do.

"Come on," she begged. One of her hands went between her legs, her fingers parting her lips. "I'm waiting for you."

Fair enough. He undid his shorts and dropped them on the ground. His penis sprang joyfully free. When had he managed to get an erection? He was pretty sure he hadn't had one while he'd been running.

She was wet. He could see that before he even touched her. She would be just like Rh'ris except that she was facing him.

Penis to vagina. Push. Moist tunnel. All the way in.

It was a bit of a relief, just to stop moving even if he still had to remain on his feet. And there was the thrill of knowing in advance that there would be no mesh. He was feeling the inside of her body without feeling the inside of her head at the same time. It was just him, Zhair'lo, disconnectedly penetrating her without having any idea how it felt from her side. He had only her moans to go by, which he knew weren't as clear cut as they should be. The most pained expression could often indicate the greatest pleasure. He'd had enough partners to realize that simple fact.

On the other hand, he considered himself far too tired, and Erin far too eager, to worry about the possibility of hurting her.

Erin locked her legs around his back.

"You wanna come?" she whispered into his ear.

"Yeah," he gasped back.

Accentuating each word with a thrust, she replied. "Then. You. Gotta. Go. Hard."

Was this really the end? If he could just release himself inside her, would he be done? That made it worth trying a little harder. And since she'd literally asked for it, he felt no particular regard for being gentle with her body. Risking a collapse into unconsciousness, he started pounding at her as hard as his beleaguered thighs and burning calves could manage.

He should have been able to come. He ran the head of his penis back and forth across the tight ring of muscle at her entrance, a move that always brought him and his partner to the greatest peak of pleasure. All it did was harden his erection and bring appreciative moans from Erin.

"Mm, such a big boy," she muttered into his ear as she hung on to him. "Keep going."

But try as he might, he couldn't make himself come. Anything to get out of this, to end this thing to which they were subjecting him. But no, they had him trapped here. He had to obey; to follow where they led; to serve their unknown cause.

Delirious, he continued to pump away at Erin, ploughing past her lips and up inside her over and over again, because that's what she'd asked for.

"Alright, alright," she said to him, panting. "Take a breath or two."

Thankful, he leaned himself into her, pushing his manhood as far up into her body as it could go. She let out a muffled cry at this, perhaps not expecting it. He paid it no mind and concentrated on catching his breath.

"Can't," he said.

"Can't what?" she asked, a touch of worry in her voice. She lifted his head so her still sparkling blue eyes could look directly into his brown ones.

"Can't come," he told her.

There was a knock at the door.

"It's okay," she said, still holding his face in her hands. "You're doing fine. Just fine, alright?"

He nodded and let her push him away, sliding his thoroughly coated penis out of her body. She moaned at this. The features of her face that had always been bright, cheerful and gorgeous now transmuted to agony, the same as he had last seen on Rh'ris's face.

Erin tossed a cold towel at him. He already knew what to do, but first first wiped down his face and his bare back. He wasn't the least bit surprised when its application to his genitals diminished his erection until it was able to fit inside the sweaty pair of shorts he'd left on the floor.

Not bothering to wait for Erin to wave him out, nor looking back to see her masturbating as he knew she would be, he went back into the main room.

There were two girls. He sighed. Of course there were. There had been six when he entered at the beginning of this ... thing he was doing. Three were for him and, quite obviously, three were for Zo'kar. Was this it, then? Was this the end?

"Zhair'lo?" one of the girls said, rising.

It was the same eager smile. She wasn't as pretty as Erin. Her hair was streaked with reds and blondes, though, and the muscles rippling across her stomach told her he was dealing with an Iron girl. His chief concern was her legs. Nothing there. Skinny as any girl he'd ever seen.

Not from Tight.

Not a fast runner.

He was relieved, even as she dragged him back out onto the track. He leaned over, bracing his hands on his knees.

"And you are?" he asked, stalling as best he could.

"Pardon?"

"Your name."

Was there something weird about wanting to know their names? Why did they seem so surprised? Was he just supposed to shout "Hey, you!" whenever he wanted to get her attention?

"En'tha," she said, looking him over carefully.

He took every second she was willing to give, using it to try to calm his body down.

"You can take a minute here," she said. "Catch your breath."

"Thanks," he said.

She took a couple of steps backwards away from him and watched him carefully. With what seemed to him a very odd sense of anxiety, she undid the tie on her little skirt and let it slide to the ground.

That was not helping to calm his breath. She stood there, thighs close together, knees bent inward and her skirt around her ankles, and watched him. His gaze wondered from her hairless slit up to her chest and then to her eyes.

What was she expecting from him? The look in her eyes was analytical and the way she was biting her lip told him that she was tense.

He was still crouched over, leaning on his knees. That seemed wrong. He straightened up, looking over her body as he did so. She took a step back, as if ready to run. When he moved no closer to her, she relaxed a little and immediately pulled her little white top off over her head.

Alright, then.

So unlike Erin, En'tha was going to be running naked right from the start. He doubted that this would lead to any less work for him. In fact, it would only make things more difficult.

"Ready to run?" she asked, utterly deadpan.

He nodded, then reconsidered, saying, "Not particularly."

"Come on."

Hell, then.

They hadn't let him off his feet since this began, unless you counted the excruciating sets of push-ups and sit-ups. The moment he started running the ache in legs returned. The little break En'tha had just given him became a faint memory.

This time, however, was different. This skinny girl was completely naked, her flesh bare except for what coverage was given by a pair of sandals and the shortish hair that, in its blonde and red streaks, reflected the flickering light from torches mounted along the alley.

So he ran, keeping his eyes on En'tha's back. He could see the muscles that traced their way from her waist up her spine to her shoulders. Fine. Supple. Her little butt wasn't so bad either. Nothing like Rh'ris, but still ... he was possessed of a mind that had gone numb with arousal.

He followed, blindly obedient. Sweat built up, ran down his face. If he'd had a shirt on, he'd have used it to clear the sweat away. But they'd given nothing, leaving him to use the back of his hand to clear his burning eyes.

They stopped. Had it been a lap and a half already?

Push-ups again. They did them facing each other, eyes meeting. En'tha did hers much more slowly than he did his. It let him look over the back of her body when she was down while he was up.

So pretty. He'd get to have sex with her, right? Had to.

Had to be the last one, too, didn't it? There weren't any girls left. The other one left in the room must be for Zo'kar.

They were running again.

What was the point of all this?

"Come on, Zhair'lo," she prodded him when he appeared to flag. "Only a few more laps and you can have me."

Some promise. He was sure he'd have an erection for her. He was quite certain he would jam it into her body from whatever position she wanted. But he wouldn't be able to come. He'd already tried so hard with Erin and gotten nothing but insane levels of frustration.

Yet still, he ran.

En'tha wanted him to follow and he was going to follow. He wasn't going to give up and he was going to prove he wasn't the kind to give up. Whatever in the nine hells else went on, that much would be clear to everyone.

He clenched his teeth. They were stopping again.

Sit-ups this time. No trouble for her. She did twenty as least as fast as he could, and she was counting out loud while she did.

She stood up.

"Here," she said, handing him a wooden cup filled with -- apparently -- water.

Where had this come from? There was a small wooden table beside the carpet on which they'd done all their exercising. Had that always been there? He was sure he would have noticed. Probably.

"Drink up," she said. "You need it."

She didn't take a drink herself. At least Sonja had done him that courtesy. It had been a lie, of course. It didn't really count unless the drink was poured from the same carafe.

But it didn't smell funny. It didn't smell at all. It went straight down like water and felt delicious in his belly, reinvigorating his entire body.

She laid the cup aside and starting running again. Around and around they went. They didn't stop at the appointed times. No more sit-ups. No more push-ups. Just Zhair'lo in his white shorts and En'tha in her sandals.

'When this is done,' he told himself, 'I'm going to fuck her like crazy.'

"Almost there, boy," she said. "One more lap and I'm all yours."

He clenched his teeth as she started to sprint. She might not have any Tight upgrades, but he'd been doing this three times longer than she had and he had a gut full of gods-knew-what that had been hidden in those cups of water.

A lightness in his head began to develop as he sprinted harder and harder to keep up with his quarry. Euphoria overtook his senses as his legs seemed to go numb with the delight of it all. What was going on now? He was so happy that he ran the last lap as if his feet weren't even touching the ground. For a moment, the numbness was frightening. He thought the lack of sensation in his legs might lead him to fall on the cobblestones. The thought of his body skidding along the ground, smearing his blood all over the alley made him distinctly queasy.

Finally, they came to the doorway.

The end, at last. His legs feeling like jelly, he came to a clumsy stop and leaned against the nearest wall.

"Come on, come on," she said, eager now.

She faced him and pulled him backwards through the doorway into the now empty waiting room.

"You want me now?" she asked, pausing to bite her lower lip. "You wanna come? Let's go."

They went through to yet another room. This one had, blessings of all nine gods, a very short, thin bed. En'tha sat down on the edge of the bed and laid on her back. She spread her legs to him, exaggerating the whole thing by actually opening her lips with her fingers.

He moved toward her, dropping his sweat-soaked shorts to the floor. It wasn't just the shorts, but his entire body -- both of their bodies -- that were glistening in the torch light.

"Wait," she said.

"Whuh?"

He froze, the end of his erection less than a handspan from her delicately splayed orifice.

Their eyes met. She seemed curious, piercing into his skull with her gaze. He was pretty sure he looked completely dumbfounded. What was this about, now?

"I'm sorry you can't fuck me," she said, as if she had known that to be the case all along. She took the ever present towel and used it wipe down herself down from crotch to neck. "But I do want your come."

Her heels dug into his the muscles of his thighs and ass, all off which were beaten into soreness from the running, and pulled him in so his erection lay across her bald mound and over her ripped stomach.

"All over me, okay?" she asked, her voice gone light and subservient.

She took him in hand, her sweat mixing with his as she stroked him.

"Anywhere you want," she coaxed gently.

"Won't work," he grunted. "Tried before."

He could barely manage to make any words at all. There just wasn't enough blood, or energy, or whatever. Why couldn't they lie down and do this? Why did he have to stand?

She stroked him quickly, expertly. Did she do this sort of thing often?

"It'll work now," she stated confidently. "The drink will have cleared you up."

He hoped he would be able to remember that later, that she had confessed to him the Temple's ownership of a drink that could stop a man from coming and another that could release him again.

"But I need it now," she reminded him. "Let it loose all over me."

Her other hand starting fiddling with his testicles, tickling the short hairs underneath. Her stroking accelerated.

"Getting bigger, getting bigger," she encouraged. "Gimme, gimme. Everywhere, everywhere."

Zhair'lo let out a loud, anguished roar when his muscles finally spasmed out the first volley of his orgasm. A line of semen launched out of him, tracing a dotted line from her navel up just aside of her nipple and over her shoulder.

"Oh!" she shouted in surprise, turning her head as his ejaculate flashed by.

He turned his body, determined that at least one -- there! -- straight up between her pert little breasts and up onto her chin.

She played him like a musical instrument. Her grasp was perfect, her motion flawless. Bead after bead of white fluid launched forth from him, streaking across her stomach and chest, occasioning to reach one side of her face or the other.

When it was done, he collapsed forward, leaning with both hands on the bed, placed either side of her hips. He looked her over. There must have been a dozen strips of semen laid across her body from her forehead down to her stomach.

"Good work," she said, milking the last drops out into her navel.

He felt completely empty. Whatever they had put into those drinks, it had done things to his body he couldn't explain.

"It's okay," she told him. "You're done now."

She slipped out from underneath him.

"There you go. Lie down and rest."

He landed with a thump on bed, not caring for his nudity.

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The Sorceress of Within, wearing her simplest green skirt, shirt and sash, joined the table where six doctors, including her Second, Tia, sat. Away from the public, they had discarded their long, white coats and reverted to blues, oranges, yellows and -- for the Sorceress herself -- green.

"How do the numbers look for tonight?" Within asked.

"Quite well, Mistress," Tia replied.

"Our young heroes, the Seal Breakers, performed well, then?"

Tia nodded to one of her subordinates in orange, who referred to a sheet of parchment.