The Priestess Ch. 01bypoison_alice©
Sophia ran through the cool corridors as the sound of heavy boots got closer. Her dress wrapped around her legs, causing her to stumble more than once. Her breath came in pants as her bare feet slapped the stone noisily. He was gaining on her, and there was nothing she could do about it. She came to the end of the corridor and had a choice to make: Left or right? The moment that it took Sophia to decide was enough for the solider to enter the corridor.
"Priestess!" he called out, as once again Sophia started to run. Hoisting up the skirt of her dress, she put as much speed into her limbs as she could. Skidding around another corner, Sophia ran straight into the chest of another soldier. As a scream escaped her, a rough, grimy hand was clamped over her mouth. Sophia struggled as a large arm wrapped around her, pulling her close.
The man smelt of stale sweat, dust and the oil that the soldiers rubbed their weapons down with. Sophia's thin dress offered her scant protection from the rough handling the man was subjecting her to. As her pursuer rounded the corner, her heart sank; any hope she had of escape died.
"Sir?" The man holding Sophia questioned her pursuer. He was breathing heavily, and was red faced from exertion. Sophia was able to study him properly for the first time: his hair was a dark brown, cropped closely to his head; he had piercing grey eyes that were currently narrowed in anger; the soldier towered over the man holding her, and had thick, muscled arms; an angry, silvery scar bisected the right side of his face, curling part of his generous lips into a grimace.
"She is to come with me for questioning," her scarred pursuer commanded. The man holding her stiffened.
"She is the spoils of war," he protested, his arm tightening around Sophia, tight enough that it was suddenly a struggle to breathe.
"If you wish to contest my word then you should seek out the General. She will come with me." Sophia was flung towards her pursuer, who pushed her roughly behind him. His sword seemed to leap into his hand, and in a strike that was lightening quick, it was plunged into the throat of the other man.
Sophia let out a sob at the horror that she had just witnessed. The man crumpled to the floor, dead. His blooded pooled around him, painting the cream stone crimson. The man before her, the man who had chased her through the temple, had defiled it with murder. Her whole body trembled in fear as he sheathed his bloody blade, and turned to face her. Without conscious effort, Sophia started to back away.
"No you don't," the man growled. His hand grabbed her upper arm in a vice like grip, smearing her pale skin red. Sophia felt her head start to buzz, and the room start to spin. She had a man's blood on her arm, a dead man's blood. Her knees stopped supporting her and she sagged into the arms of the soldier who had seemed to be waiting to catch her.
"Priestess, there is no time for this," the soldier snapped. He dragged her roughly to her feet, holding her against him. His calloused fingers gripped her chin and dragged her face upwards. Sophia didn't have the strength to struggle, but her eyes burned with hatred. The man studied her features for a moment, his grey eyes taking in every detail of her face.
"I have little patience, and the man who commands me has less. You are the last priestess here. Where is it?" The soldier didn't have to explain what he was looking for. His comment about her being the last couldn't be true though, she thought. The soldiers had stormed the temple three days ago, and for three days they had ripped it apart looking for the sword of the Goddess. She knew the other priestesses would have hidden, as did she. It was the man holding her who had found the concealed chamber behind her treatment room.
"I don't know," she replied weakly. It was the truth. Sophia could feel tears prickling in the corners of her eyes at the thought of her dead sisters, and the torment they would have experienced in the last hours of their lives, torment that she would likely experience herself all too soon.
Sophia yelped as the soldier roughly squeezed her breast. She started to shove at his chest as he closed his fingers over her nipple and started to twist. Struggling with all her might, Sophia got nowhere. Hot tears trickled down her cheeks as she whimpered under the cruel act.
"Think, priestess," the man instructed as he released her, leaving her nipple aching, "of the pain I could cause you if I had you at my mercy for hours." He ran the back of his hand down Sophia's bare arm causing her to shudder. His face was set in determination.
"I don't know," she repeated. If she did know, she thought, she would have told him. The sword was sacred, but she had never been very strong or very brave. The thought of being at the mercy of this man was terrifying.
"Elias," called a man behind her. The soldier released his grip on her chin, but pulled Sophia even closer. "We have it." Sophia's gut twisted. "You ought to take her before the General sees her. He's complaining he only got to deflower seven of them." With a laugh, the man left. Seven of them, thought Sophia. Surely raping seven priestesses in three days would be enough to satisfy even the most sadistic man's lusts.
Elias knew he had little time. Looking at the trembling, flushed mess before him, he knew he had a decision to make. She felt so good against him, so small and fragile, that he was desperate to keep her. He hadn't had a woman for a long time, at least not one that was free. The General would want her if she was a virgin. By the time she was returned to him, she would be no good. The General was cruel even by Elias' standards. Taking one last look at the priestess' innocent face, and remembering the delicious weight of her breast, he knew he would do anything to get her under him.
Elias let go of Sophia abruptly, roughly forcing her to take a step back. He took a long look at her. Before she could react, he had ripped the shoulder of her dress. The material flapped, coming dangerously close to exposing her breast. Shocked at such behaviour, Sophia stepped further away from him, ready to run once more. Elias didn't give her the chance. Catching hold of her arm again, he hauled her close, forcing an aggressive kiss upon her. Sophia wreathed in his grasp, desperate to escape the assault. When she was released, her lips felt tender and swollen.
"Stand still," Elias hissed as he released Sophia once more. She did as she was told, numb with shock. It had finally sunk in that she would be raped like her sisters. Wide eyed, Sophia watched as Elias took a knife from his belt. A whimper escaped her before she could get better control of herself. She quickly sent a prayer to her Goddess that she would be able to remain dignified throughout her ordeal.
It was with great surprise that Sophia watched Elias slice his palm. He quickly sheathed the knife again. A look of pure determination etched itself onto his features as the sound of marching became audible. Sophia found herself held against the wall. Elias lifted her dress with the cleaner of his two hands, then thrust the bloody one beneath it. Sophia yelped as the soldier used his legs to spread hers, sobbing as his fingers probed her. He rubbed his palm between her legs, then spread her open.
"This will hurt for a moment, priestess," he murmured in her ear as he thrust two fingers deep inside her. The pain was instant, and she felt something tear. His fingers left her quickly. He spat on his hand, thrusting it back under her dress, rubbing it into her thighs and between the lips of her private parts.
As the marching grew closer, Sophia's dress was torn once more. This time it was up the side. Blood marred the white. She flinched as Elias raised his hand, unsure of the soldier's intentions. Would he strike her? Deft fingers unpinned her hair, so it tumbled loose about her shoulders. It was quickly messed up. Stepping back, the soldier studied her again.
"That'll have to do," he muttered as men rounded the corner. Sophia was able to turn this time. The man leading the soldiers was almost as tall as Elias, but heavy with fat. He wore her Goddess' sword at his belt.
"Elias," the man boomed, "I heard there was one more. It seems you managed to impale her before I, though." Elias remained quiet. Sophia trembled, desperate to hide herself from the eyes of more men than she had seen in the past year. The man who must be the General turned to a soldier beside him. "Check that her deflowering is complete."
Sophia felt the man beside her bristle. She squeezed her eyes shut. She realise now that he had done what he did to make it appear that she had been forced by him, and now this new solider would look between her legs and check. She didn't know enough about the ways of love making to be sure that Elias' efforts would convince him.
Strong hands held her upper arms and guided her backwards.
"Lean on me," was barked in her ear, loud enough for the others to hear. Elias sounded unkind, but his gentle touch belied his tone. Sophia did as she was bid, glad of the support. Her knees were shaky.
The hand on her ankle was a shock that made Sophia jolt. With her eyes clamped tightly shut, and a prayer leaving her lips, she hadn't realised that the soldier had reached her. Her dress was raised, her legs forced apart. There were whistles and catcalls from the group of men opposite. She shuddered at the soldier's touch as, for the second time, she was explored. She winced as a finger probed her abused flesh.
"Her maidenhead is gone, and there is blood. She's damp, possibly from come. Someone has had her." Sophia opened her eyes as her dress fell down again, her cheeks burning in shame. There was disappointed muttering from the crowd.
"I wish to keep her for a while. I found her struggling entertaining," Elias said from behind her. The General nodded absently, then gestured towards the corpse behind them. With everything else, Sophia had forgotten that the body of the dead man was there.
"Care to explain, Elias?" The general sounded bored, and Sophia was sure he didn't really care. When she felt Elias shrug behind her, the General sighed. "If you weren't so useful Elias, you would be dead. Enjoy your whore tonight, for tomorrow you ride. I have a task for you."
"Yes, sir," replied the soldier behind her, his hands tightening painfully around her upper arms.
The journey through the temple to the camp outside was filled with upset for Sophia. She saw the bodies of several of her sisters, many naked and blood smeared. Paintings of her Goddess had been vandalised, precious objects broken or stolen, and scrolls burnt. She was relieved when she reached Elias' tent. Whatever he had planned for her could be no worse than seeing the destruction of everything and everyone she held dear.
"What's your name, priestess?" Elias asked her as he sat her on the sleeping pallet.
"Sophia," she replied, her voice trembling. She watched as he moved about the make-shift home. He placed a basin of water at her feet. After a moment of searching, he threw a cloth to her.
"Wash yourself," he commanded. Face scarlet, Sophia moved to do as she was told. She dampened the cloth, using it to cleanse her face and arms. The rest of her was covered by her dress.
"I wish to see all of you, Sophia." He stomach churned. She had hoped, after the kindness he showed in the temple, that she would be left alone. Clearly he had other intentions. Sophia removed her dress, her eyes shut as she stood naked before Elias. She could feel his eyes travelling over her skin. She had never planned to allow a man to see her like this.
Sophia jumped as hot skin touched hers. She opened her eyes to see Elias stood before her. He took the cloth from her hand and ran it over her chest. Sophia was desperate to break eye contact but didn't dare. Elias' grey eyes were cold, hard. As the cloth slowly dampened her breasts, she flinched and looked at her feet. She couldn't stand the slow way he was teasing her; pain would have been a mercy compared to this faux kindness.
The cloth travelled over her stomach, then down one leg and back up the other. This left Elias kneeling before Sophia. He took her hand in his, and placed it upon his shoulder.
"I want to see between your legs, Sophia." Widening her stance, she allowed him to do as he wished. As the cloth swept up the insides of her thighs a tear escaped her. The experience was degrading, humiliating. Elias took his time as he washed the tender flesh at the apex of her thighs. His hands then came to rest on her hips.
"Turn around, Sophia." Again, she obeyed. She didn't feel herself, and knew that she should be protesting more. As Elias started to work up the back of her body, a fine tremor seemed to take over Sophia. Her breathing came in gasps, and her tears started to fall more freely. The cloth brushed over her buttocks, then up her back. A gentle thud told Sophia that the cloth had hit the floor.
Seemingly huge hands rested upon her delicate shoulders. Elias' lips caressed the back of her neck, causing her to shy away from him. His hands strayed down the front of her chest, gently cupping her breasts.
"Please, don't," Sophia moaned. To her surprise, Elias released her breasts, his arms wrapping around her waist. His lips closed around her earlobe and sucked gently.
"Easy, priestess," Elias murmured before pulling away. As soon as Sophia felt the cool air replace him at her back, she broke down. Her legs crumpled beneath her and she fell to the bed, body heaving with the passion of her sobs. She curled herself into a ball, dragging the sheet over her nudity. Despite the wash, or perhaps because of it, she felt dirty, contaminated.
Elias sat down next to her. She felt his hand running through her hair, catching occasionally on the tangles. He adjusted the sheet over her, covering her completely. Sophia froze as he stood, not sure what to expect next. He patted her lightly on the curve of her hip before leaving the tent.
Sophia awoke with a start. She jerked away from the hand stroking her hair.
"I brought you food," Elias informed her as she sat up. She clutched the sheet to her, desperate to be less vulnerable to the soldier sitting beside her. Timidly, Sophia took the offered meal. It was a large, flat piece of bread covered in a type of stew.
"Fold it up, then it won't go everywhere," suggested Elias. Sophia followed his instructions and took a bite. It was delicious, and reminded her that she hadn't eaten for days. Sophia was very conscious that Elias was watching her eat. Once she finished, he handed her a flask of water.
Once Sophia was done, Elias stood. He undressed quickly, standing before her completely naked. Sophia's breath had sped up, her cheeks burning and her body tense. She expected him to join her on the bed, to hold her down and take her, but Elias just stood watching her reaction. Eventually, Sophia looked up to meet his eyes.
Slowly, as if he didn't want to spook her, Elias walked towards Sophia. He picked up the cloth he had dropped to the floor earlier, and handed it to her. She took it with a trembling hand, still clutching the sheet to her chest.
"Will you wash me, Sophia?" Longing to say no, Sophia felt she had no choice but to agree. She stood, wrapping the sheet securely around herself. She approached Elias, but couldn't bring herself to touch him.
"Am I so distasteful to you?" He smiled as he asked the question, but Sophia saw a glint of something in those grey eyes. Biting her lip, she studied the naked man before her. There was nothing displeasing about his appearance, and she imagined that she would have enjoyed having him naked if she were a different type of girl. Gathering her will power, she took the final step that closed the distance between them.
Starting by his feet, Sophia cleansed the back of his body first. She was careful not to touch him with anything but the cloth. Every part of him seemed to be heavily muscled, and she could but imagine his strength. In an attempt to distract herself, she had been focussing on the array of scars that marred his skin. She wondered if they were all battle wounds. However, by the time she had reached his shoulders, she was becoming more and more jittery. Sophia was dreading washing the front of him.
Working her way from fingertips to shoulder, Sophia was very careful to avoid Elias' gaze. Running the cloth slowly over his collarbones, she then brushed over his pectorals, and down his washboard stomach, freezing as she approached his stomach button. She didn't dare touch anymore of him. Frustratingly for her, he waited patiently. She had no choice but to meet his eyes, blushing furiously as she waited for the inevitable: the order to continue.
"Watch me," Elias said quietly, taking the cloth. Not wanting to anger him, Sophia's eyes followed the cloth as it dipped down his body. Very deliberately, the soldier trailed the cloth up the length of his hardness, forcing Sophia to take in the size of it. He wrapped the cloth around it, pumping it up and down several times, before cleansing the heavy balls that hung beneath. The sight of him touching himself proudly made Sophia's stomach tighten. She felt uncomfortable, awkward and scared. When Elias dropped the cloth, Sophia flinched.
"Calm there, priestess," he soothed, reaching for her hand. She jerked it away, fearing his touch and what he would demand from her. "You're going to have to share that sheet at some point; it's the only one I've got and it gets mighty cold at night." Sophia watched as he shrugged, then sprawled across the bed. He patted a space next to him, holding his hand out invitingly. Reluctantly, she went to join him.
Wrapping a thick arm around her, Elias pulled Sophia back onto the bed. She stilled as he tugged the sheet from her, taking a moment to glance at her nakedness before spreading the sheet over them. Sophia stiffened as she was pulled against the soldier's body, his bare skin feeling hot against her own. Her head rested against his chest, her body pinned to his side. After a while, remaining unmolested, Sophia started to relax.
"Sleep well, priestess, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow." Elias pecked her softly on the forehead, confusing Sophia even more than she was already. She had expected to be raped in his bed, not cuddled.
Sophia awoke wrapped around the hard, naked body of Elias. Her leg was resting between his, her groin pinned to his thigh, and one breast crushed against his chest. She could feel him erect, trapped between their bodies. Sophia was very aware that the dampness from between her legs was making his skin slick. She longed to move and avoid the awkwardness of him waking to find her so wantonly spread across him, but was secured in her current position by his arm across her back.
Trying to extricate herself from Elias' grasp in an attempt to maintain some modesty, Sophia just caused the man beneath her to groan and stir.
"Where do you think you're going, priestess?" He asked rather gruffly, not loosening his grasp one bit. Still trying to wriggle away, Sophia froze when Elias gasped. She wondered if she had hurt him. "Keep squirming on top of me like that, and you'll find me buried inside you before I have a chance to think about your welfare." Wisely, Sophia kept very still. Her discomfort and embarrassment had turned to fear.
"It's been a long time, priestess. A man only has so much will power, and spending a night with your wetness on my thigh has all but eroded mine." Despite the crudeness of the soldier's words, Sophia found her back being stroked soothingly. She moved herself slightly, eliciting another sucked in breath from the man beneath her. She had positioned herself so that she could see his eyes, though this had left her almost astride his thick thigh.