tagSci-Fi & FantasyTalla's Temple Ch. 16

Talla's Temple Ch. 16

byxtorch©

"Talla?"

She turned to see Meena looking at her, somewhat concerned.

"Hey."

"Hey. Uh -"

"What?" Talla asked.

"Whatchupto?" Meena asked.

"Not much," Talla said. She jerked her head to the doorway behind her, indicating the Office of the Sorceress of Strength. "I just got permission for a special upgrade."

"Really?" Meena asked, her voice still more worried than surprised.

"Yeah," Talla said. "I guess it's unhealthy to have four Abundance upgrades without any Strength."

"Lucky you," Meena acknowledged with a nod. "Be careful."

Talla became suddenly aware of the scroll cylinder in her hand. Meena had noticed her pilferage, even if no one else had.

"Uh, yeah."

"Use the brown wax," Meena said, very quietly. "And be careful, sister."

Meena left with a warning purse of her lips before darting off on some errand or other.

That gave Talla pause. She thought she had been subtle. No one else seemed to have spared her as much as a glance. Any girl in a white skirt, hurrying about, might as well be a drapery of some kind for all the higher ranks paid any attention.

No matter. Her mind was set. She could grab a sheet of parchment from anywhere. And if Meena told her to use brown wax, then brown wax it would be.

-----------===================-------------

The Goddess usually summoned her Sorceresses in the middle of the night. Whether that was for safety, habit or simply a desire to sleep during the day, one could never say.

Nevertheless, when one's Goddess sent a Summons -- even in the middle of the afternoon - one dropped one's business and went directly.

The Sorceress of Pussy was no exception to this rule.

The guards at the entrance to her Eminence's innermost sanctum didn't even nod as she passed. When she'd received the summons, she'd changed to her simplest outfit. She wore a dark green skirt, tight as they were made, together with the smallest bikini top the Temple afforded and a simple sash across one of her breasts.

She passed down a long hallway and through a pair of doors. There was a small room there where two more fully armoured guards waited. Wordlessly, she undid her skirt and handed it to one. If they were surprised that she wore nothing underneath it, they gave no indication upon seeing the luxurious hair that the skirt had covered.

After her skirt was examined and found to contain no weapons, it was handed back to her.

Goddesses took no chances. Neither did their guards. Pussy had known this when she'd received the summons and it was for the swiftness of her passage that she'd changed in the first place.

Through another set of doors, leaving the guards behind, she came finally to the central office of the Goddess.

Black was the motif here. Where obsidian and ebony could not be found, walls were painted black and glittered with silver and golden flecks. Curtains were grey and yellow and speckled the same way. Sunlight filtered in, shadowed in to yellow and gold, reflected off mirrors and brightly polished surfaces. Black torchstands stood unlit in the day time.

The Goddess stood in front of her desk, looking -- to Pussy's eyes - not quite right. It was too early for her to be dying, so it couldn't be that.

She was not alone, however. She and a dozen other women of varying ranks stood waiting by chairs in a circle.

Varying ranks, yes, the Sorceress thought, but not varying Disciplines.

She knew every one of them.

"That will be all," the Goddess called out to the Virgin and Initiate attendants that lined the wall by the entrance.

Each one curtsied carefully and the lot of them filed out in order.

When they were gone, she gave another order: "Seal the doors."

This was promptly done by two Adepts who braced the door with wooden beams left there for precisely that purpose. Strong women, they were. Women of Pussy, to be certain, but inducted in to this group for the other upgrades they held. Since Form women could not be recruited, others would have to serve their roles. And Form women would never be inducted in to this group.

When Pussy took her place in the circle, the Goddess carefully rose from her seat.

"We begin," she said, quite formally, making thirteen women come to stiffer attention.

She unlaced the ankle-length skirt about her waist and laid it over the back of her chair. Thick, luxurious hair, black as the fixtures that decorated her domain, covered her genitals. She sat down, leaving her legs spread just slightly. It would have been inappropriate anywhere else. But this meeting was special.

The Sorceress went next, removing her much simpler skirt and taking a seat. She left her legs slightly spread, just as her superior did.

They went down the ranks from there. Most of them were from the orange ranks -- Officers and Acolytes I and II. They removed their tiny underwear like bottoms and sat in their places. The last two members, the lowly Adepts chosen for their physical strength, removed their grass skirts.

It would have wildly unthinkable, in any other place, to have such a juxtaposition of clothing. A Goddess with her genitals exposed while those who held no Perfections weren't completely naked? Unforgivable! And here she was, a Sorceress stripped to a sash and bikini top while an Adept sat next to her in exactly the same clothing?

But here it didn't matter. What mattered was that this group, this clandestine group, were the genealogists. Genealogy was the province of Pussy. And so, to symbolize the true purpose of these meetings, they bared their genitals -- the very thing which defined them -- to one another.

"I carry a child," the Goddess said, provoking a gleeful and collective intake of breath.

"It is most certainly," she continued, "the child of Finch, a Goddess-born himself."

They had all known that getting pregnant via this man, or one of the few other Goddess-born available, had been the goal. It was still a relief, however, to understand that this goal had been achieved.

"Within has been here for my examination, and has been sworn to secrecy."

That was important to know, that a new member had been inducted -- even if forcibly -- in to their membership. The fact that the new member was a Sorceress made it a vital matter.

"How did she take it?" Pussy asked.

"Stoically. How else?"

It might have been a joke. No one laughed. They didn't do a lot of humour at these meetings.

"I am healthy and the child appears to be as well," the Goddess went on. "I will need to stay as secluded as I can for the next five months. Yana?"

"Eminence," one of the Officers acknowledged. "I've drawn up schedules to keep members of this group at your side as often as possible for the duration. We cannot trust Virgins and Initiates to keep secrets, nor can we exclude them from this room without arousing suspicion. You will have to remain behind your desk when they are here and dismiss them as often as it pleases you."

The Goddess rubbed her eyes.

"I have already made a habit of dismissing them with some frequency," she said. "No one should notice a continuation of that habit."

She took a breath and rubbed her belly.

"I don't remember any of my previous pregnancies being this difficult."

No one responded to this. 'Age' was the unspoken reply. Time was a precious commodity to someone carrying so much Perfection -- time that she was further sacrificing with this pregnancy. There was nothing for that. The long running mission of this group was more important than any single woman's health or longevity.

Besides, all those Perfections had to give her some shelter from the normal miseries of pregnancy, didn't they?

Of course they would.

She would survive. She would have her child. Their centuries old mission would continue.

-----------===================-------------

No one was coming for him tonight. If Anzha had picked him for her first, as Talla and Nadine apparently had, she would be coming some other night.

He'd asked Kurran about it. The general pattern seemed to be that women came out to the farm in huge droves. They'd Serve about half the men one night, half the men the next, then take the third night off. If some guy was sick or missed out for some reason, a couple of women might come out that third night, but that didn't happen often

That being the case, Zhair'lo found a desire to head in to town.

If nothing else, Talla was there, and the closer he could get to her the better.

She pulled at him, in some strange way. He knew it, too. He knew he was just heading in the direction he figured she ought to be. The closer he got to the Temple, the faster he wanted to go. The faster he went, the more aroused he felt.

There were no girls in sight. He'd been reasonably thoroughly emptied out by the messenger and her friend.

What was making him so horny?

-----------===================-------------

Talla was Priming with Tina again.

Falling in to the rhythm they'd set before, Tina had taken the lead with the first boy and Talla had naturally taken the second.

She held him in her mouth, just the swollen head of his penis for the moment, while Tina washed him from behind.

He had clearly been here before, this stout boy whose manhood throbbed on her tongue. He stared at her breasts unabashedly.

Talla liked that attention. She liked it very much. It almost made the pain worth it.

Besides, she could ease the pain and increase his pleasure at the same time, couldn't she?

She pulled his erection out of her mouth and raised her body up enough that she could rub him against one of her breasts, spreading the little bit of glistening fluid on its around in circles around her nipples.

He moaned in appreciation, stiffening in her hand.

She relaxed her grip, thinking of Shen. A false move on her part could have repercussions she didn't want to think about just now.

Instead, she cupped her breasts and lifted them, taking the strain off her aching chest and capturing him in her cleavage.

The young man - what was his name? Goran, wasn't it? Yes. Goran.

Goran let out a contented sigh at this type of attention, so she kept it up, juggling his erection back and forth between her breasts, feeling a tingling as she did it.

Abundance was her Discipline and, without a doubt, rubbing a penis against her breasts was going to turn her on. At least she had Tina, if it came to that, if they could find some privacy. If not, there were always her own fingers, which had served her quite well in the days before she'd joined the Temple -- before she'd taken Zhair'lo ...

Someone knocked on the door -- the two minute pattern.

No question Goran was good to go. He seemed quite confident and -- oh -- so very hard. Talla was reluctant to let him go and so kept him between her breasts. He wasn't nearly as sad to depart. He had an orgasm in his near future, and probably a much larger pair of breasts to rub against in the meantime.

Talla had no such outlet. And gods dammit there was a solidly erect boy right here. She ached to have him inside her, but the only way she could have him was like this. She grimaced, tormented, and pushed her body up so that his penis pressed against her sternum and her breasts wrapped around his shaft.

She smiled. It was all she could do for herself to let him rub against the most sensitive part of her anatomy. Tina had already turned off the water and was busily towelling Goran off.

Talla, having tortured herself enough, went back to sucking on her charge. Gently, to be sure, but enthusiastically. Lucky guy, the benefactor of her arousal.

Gods, but she needed to drain away this feeling.

-----------===================-------------

He was getting close to the Temple now.

Maybe it was just the awareness of all those girls -- all those women -- so close by. Maybe that was what was influencing him so sharply.

But really, what could he expect? Girls didn't come marching out of the Temple at some man's beck and call. That wasn't how it worked. Men didn't put in requests. The women came out to the men when they felt like coming out.

On the other hand, there was no questioning the strength of his arousal. Too bad there wasn't anything he could -

"Hey, you!"

Zhair'lo turned to see a girl in a long, white skirt. She was out of breath and running at him.

An Initiation.

How fortuitous.

-----------===================-------------

Alli'anya looked down between her naked breasts at the penis that rubbed against her.

The boy was erect and enthusiastic. She had no doubt of that. The drums were pounding and the torches were dim. Excitement was all around them. They'd both been here before. They both enjoyed being here. It was always a proudly done duty for all involved.

In spite of all that, however, something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

He had been rubbing at her sternum for some time now. Not only had he had failed to Seize, he had also failed to go through the period of nauseating dizziness that they calling Hunting.

For herself, she felt nothing -- not the faintest tingle of magic being pulled from her lubricated chest. She was trying to push a Strength upgrade in to him and it wasn't working.

She looked up in to his eyes. He didn't seem to think anything was wrong, although he too must surely wonder why the sensations of Hunting and Seizing had not struck his body.

His eyes met hers.

"This isn't like before," he breathed softly, his eyes wandering around the room in worry.

"You are not Seizing," she observed.

He shook his head in confirmation.

She placed one hand over his penis and slid the other up to his chest to feel his heart. She knew that hard, steady pattern. She'd been trained to recognize it. It was the one he was supposed to have when he'd been charged up.

Charged up how? With what?

Her eyes widened in realization. The boy seemed nonplussed. Quite resilient, really.

"Siste!" she called out to the darkness.

There were no few gasps from the gallery, violations of well understood Protocol. Spears cracked sharply on marble tiles to call for silence. The drummers, high up in the gallery, ceased their drumming.

"For what reason do you call a Halt?"

"He is charged, Highness," Alli'anya answered the disembodied voice. "But not from my Endowment."

There was a short pause. Perhaps the Queen conferred with one of her Sorceresses.

"Condu-say hay," the Queen said. "The Rites will continue."

Virgin attendants moved swiftly to offer the young man his clothing back. Perplexed, if not quite embarrassed, he allowed himself to be led to the exit room. A guard would watch him there.

Once the door was closed, the Queen spoke again.

"Alli'anya?"

She was wiping Synergist from her cleavage.

"Highness," she acknowledged as she exchanged a soiled towel for her top.

"Attend your Mistress and assist her with this boy."

Torches were being re-lit in the upper parts of the gallery. The Sorceress of Strength, her crown jewelled with the jade typical of her Discipline, beckoned her upwards.

They would leave via the back of the gallery, then, and meet the boy somewhere upstairs.

-----------===================-------------

"Did you want to watch a few?" Tina asked politely.

They had finished drying themselves off and were getting dressed.

"Um, no," Talla replied.

Her last experience watching upgrades had been the night she'd caught Zhair'lo's eye -- the night they'd overloaded him. She didn't need a reminder of that.

Besides, there was something else she needed.

How to broach the subject? Where before she had been quite determined to stay away from Tina, to find succour at her own hands if necessary, she now found herself desperate for the other's intimate company. An orgasm from masturbation, while pleasant, would never be the same as a mesh.

If Tina read anything in her eyes or her body language, she gave no hint. They left the Priming room together and walked out directly in to the quiet ground floor of the Offices.

Maybe Talla could cool down. There were no naked boys here; no erect penises demanding attention or begging to be ensconced in the by-now-quite-moist tunnel between her legs. Could she let it go? Calmly go back to her room and possibly use her own fingers to quiet the rebellious murmurs in her belly?

No.

Her arousal was getting stronger, not weaker. She was out of breath and sweating just a little. The desire to be penetrated was not waning in the least.

"Y'ris is sleeping early tonight," Tina said with all the casualness of one commenting on the weather. "She's got duties early in the morning."

It meant that Tina's place was out of the question.

"Lara and Salee have a class," Talla said. "Virgin History, I think."

"It's an Initiation night," Tina observed. "They do a lot of teaching on Initiation nights."

Talla nodded.

"I have your clothes, if you want to pick them up," Talla said, anxiously stumbling toward the thing she really needed.

They were passing through the baffled passages in to Endowment Hall. Tina turned her eyes to meet Talla's. There was understanding there.

"Sure," she replied.

Talla heaved a sigh of relief and quickened her pace. Something was building up and she felt that if she didn't hurry, she was going to miss it.

-----------===================-------------

Zhair'lo had been here before.

The girl had dragged him through the entrance to the large, cylindrical building with the weird female musicians in their masks.

In to a closet they went.

This wasn't her first time doing this. He remembered that Talla had hesitated just a little when she'd undressed. This girl didn't hesitate. She was naked in moments and without shame or even concern.

He admired her skinny body and plain hair. He wondered what she would choose for her Discipline. What part of her body would be altered by some boy -- probably some other boy -- ejaculating on it?

Nice thought, that. His part was much simpler than that tonight.

"I've already done my chest and my stomach," she said, "and two to my pussy. Just three spots left."

"Which one you want next?" he asked.

"Um, pussy or face I guess."

He'd done Talla in the face. Why not again?

"Face," he said.

She gulped. He got the feeling she'd been putting that off.

"Gotta do it eventually anyway," she said, more to herself than him.

"It'll be quick," he promised.

"Thanks," she said sardonically as she knelt on the floor.

-----------===================-------------

"It has to be you," the Sorceress of Strength said.

"Really?"

"Yes," she insisted.

Standing thoughtfully in her most formal clothing, Shanata considered the situation. Rubbing her temples, she dislodged the forgotten circlet of brass about her crown. Wearily, she simply decided to remove it and set it aside.

"Why does it have to be me?"

"We wish to know what this boy was charged with," Strength said. "If, somehow, he managed to Seize on some Discipline other than the one intended, he may have pulled almost anything off Alli'anya."

Alli'anya stepped in at that point.

"Most of my upgrades are pretty much what anyone else would choose," she said. "But I have three in Tight. You're the only one here with enough experience in upgrades to figure out what happened who also has more Tight upgrades than I have."

"I won't permit some accidental upgrade," the Sorceress added. "There is nothing Alli'anya has that you do not, so there's no danger of anyone getting a free pass."

Shanata turned to the guard who had accompanied them from the Augmentation Chamber.

"Did you see any possible contact that could have allowed anything but Strength to pass in to this boy?"

The guard, a woman of Form who knew she was well out of place in Principia Strength, was restricted by Protocol from speaking unless spoken to directly.

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