Flesh: Prologue

Two nights ago, when Apotequil had first placed it around her waist, she hadn't been able to get the mental images of she and the priest, wrapped naked together, out of her head. Yesterday, she'd teased and tormented a half-dozen young men on the edge of the Clemente, touching her tits and rubbing her hands all over her body while allowing water to cascade down upon her. Even today, her nipples had become petrified the moment she felt the charm against the top of her pussy, and they hadn't softened in the hours since.

She allowed herself a respite from the contact, lowering her ass onto the back of her legs and letting the pendant swing free in the air behind her. Settling herself down onto her forearms, Summer decided that the belly-chain was akin to a merry widow, or a garter belt, or some other type of lingerie a woman might put on to seduce a man. While seduction might never have been Summer's intent, she felt sexier and more sexually confident each time the twine was hung on her hips. The way that the pendant hung, kissing her pussy as it did so, made her feel naughty. It drew attention to her sex, eliciting excitement in the men around her, and therefore eliciting excitement in Summer herself.

Each time the pendant had been hung on her body, each time it had skated across her pussy, Summer felt a wave of sexual energy, electricity shooting through her body. There was no magic to the fertility charm, she told herself. But it brought confidence and sensuality to someone wracked by nervousness and humiliation.

The feast in the village below went on for what felt like days to Summer. She had been drunk when the four young men had set her down upon the altar, but as the second hour passed on the cliff, Summer had begun to sober up.

On top of that, her legs, arms, and knees were all sore from the position that they'd been in for hours at that point. She shifted every now and then, stretching her legs and adjusting her body to the few postures allowed to her. She could curl into a ball, scrunching her body down in on itself. She could get up on her hands and knees, configured proudly in the solitude around her. Or, she could be in a position that she called "presenting" - down on her knees while her ass and her pussy were both pushed up and out into the air. In her isolation, she decided that this was how she'd exhibit herself when she was joined on the cliff.

Eventually, the music below her began to die down, and she watched torches and villagers parade up Hanan Pacha's street, towards her, her cliff, and her altar. She was far too sober to be doing this, she told herself, cringing at the thought of what was about to happen. Part of her felt the need to pee, but she wasn't sure how much of that urge was her bladder, and how much was her nerves.

As the Huaca streamed up the side of the cliff through the jungle, she were presented with a wide-open view of Summer's most intimate areas, blocked only by the teardrop-shaped pendant hanging down between her buttocks. She was "presenting," as she had intended, with her ass in the air and her forehead pressed against the snakeskin mat. Thanking whoever had decided to position her face away from the growing crowd, Summer breathed easier, knowing that she would not need to face any of the Huaca. Otoniel would be out there. Pariacaca would be out there. Mancocapac would be out there. But Summer would never know who was where, or whose eyes were tracing the pink outlines of her pussy at that moment.

She was joined on the altar by two men. A glimpse told her that they were Apotequil and Pachacamac, as she'd been expecting. Both men were all dressed up, wearing a collection of teeth, rocks, furs, and jewelry that reassured Summer just how important this was to them and their people. Either one of these men would be up here in her place if it were possible, but neither one had the most integral body part to the T'ojsiy.

As Pachacamac began addressing his people, Summer wondered again if the Huaca had attempted this ceremony with one of their own women, and who that woman had been. Chasca? Yana? Puka? Or was it deemed necessary that it be an outsider, to appease Sipusiki with someone unafflicted by her curse, but also to prevent a Huaca woman from spending the next few months walking red-faced around the village after what she had done. After what Summer was about to do.

Apotequil spoke now, starting in hushed tones and building to shouts and whoops. The Huaca responded to his invocations, offering up what Summer was sure were "amens!" and "hallelujahs!" in response to the priest. She'd ask Otoniel later what had been said, the details of Hanan Pacha's supplication to Sipusiki. But she was glad that he wasn't here, standing close by, and translating everything as it happened.

Summer's mind wandered, but it inevitably was drawn back to her moistened cunt. Every time that her mind drifted to the entirety of what she was going to do, she felt the silver glance against her. It all came down to getting off.

Forget the people watching, Summer told herself. Forget the priest and the chief that were standing on either side of her. Forget the translator who'd been working with her and her colleagues for the past eight weeks. Forget the bigger picture, the self-fulfilling curse of Sipusiki and the hope that she'd be bringing to the Huaca. Forget the altar, the torches, the cascading water alongside her. All of this was secondary, ancillary to what she was here to do.

Everything came down to pussy, dildo, and orgasm.

And Summer wanted to get off.

Secure in that assurance, Summer risked a peep down under her body, between her legs, and out into the crowd beyond. At that moment, the qollqephichilu came into full view. The dildo. The huge dildo.

All the nervous sexual energy that Summer felt transformed into full-out bewilderment at how something that big was going to fit inside her twat.

It was a showstopper, all right. It had to have been a foot and half long, fashioned out of what Summer guessed to be the same silver hanging against her pussy. But it wasn't the length that disturbed her, but rather the fact that it was wider than any dildo that Summer had ever seen her entire life.

Summer, of course, had never used a dildo before, let alone had someone use one on her. She'd been a good girl, content with regular old sex with one partner, one penis, and one vagina. Still, she'd been in a porn store or two over the course of her life, to pick out embarrassing bachelorette and birthday gifts. And this dildo, this qollqephichilu, was bigger than anything she'd set her eyes upon. This was the Cock Colossus. The Polypheme Penis. The Elephant Dick. The King Dong.

At the end of the qollqephichilu was a hilt, much akin to something that Summer might have expected on a broadsword. That was where whoever wielded the monstrosity would hold on, dipping into Summer's box until she achieved climax. And, based on the moisture that had built up in her pussy, it wouldn't be long.

Apotequil tested her wetness with his finger, shocking the naked blonde as his index immersed itself in pink. Pachacamac was now addressing his people again, but he would not miss the groan that escaped Summer's mouth.

Apparently, Summer's pussy was not quite as wet as the priest might have hoped, because he removed his finger, searched for her clit at the top of her pussy, and began tracing circles around it. Even though her pussy lips were swollen and she thought she was more than ready for what was about to happen, the priest had obviously decided that she needed to be as lubricated as possible to take something the size of the qollqephichilu.

What if I cum now? The question ran through Summer's mind as she stifled a moan. Apotequil, despite being a little rough, was causing more pleasure in Summer's clit than she thought possible. Hundred of people were watching the priest play with her trembling pussy, but all the blonde could concentrate on was the finger.

Summer could feel an orgasm building, and felt herself stuck with a dilemma. She wanted to cum badly, more than anything else. She also thought that if she climaxed, she might not need to be skewered on the end of the monstrous dildo behind her. She did want to be spared that, didn't she?

In the end, the decision wasn't up to the biologist at all, as little had been over the past few days. Apotequil stopped rubbing her seconds before the first wave of her climax would have begun. Summer moaned in blissful agony.

Satisfied that the blonde was ready, Apotequil removed the belly-chain from around Summer's waist, the pendant from against Summer's slit. A surge of fresh air suddenly billowed into her pussy, and a chorus of simultaneous inhalations came from the attentive crowd, as if Summer were a stripper who'd just removed her last article of clothing. Her slit - pink, wet, and waiting - was now open and exposed to the Huaca in a way that it hadn't been over the past few days.

Embarrassment had gone by the wayside. Summer was more aroused than she'd ever been, and nothing mattered to her at that moment more than climaxing. She wanted to be fucked.

And Pachacamac complied.

Apotequil led the Huaca in a serious, monotone chant as Summer spread her legs as far apart as her body, the altar, and the restraints would allow. As the tip of qollqephichilu touched her expectant pussy, she pushed against it, forcing herself onto the dildo before the dildo had a chance to force itself into her.

Summer gasped in a combination of pleasure and good, good pain. The dildo was wide, but Summer's pussy accommodated it with only minor resistance.

"Fuuuck," she moaned out loud as the chief pushed further into her cunt.

The metal was cold, but the biologist's pussy so hot that it warmed up with each inch that it pressed further into her body. It stretched her lips further apart than they'd ever been, and forced itself deeper inside her than she thought possible. As Pachacamac completed his first thrust into her, she could swear that she felt his hand on the hilt.

The dildo slid back out of the deeper recesses of her cunt, more quickly than it had gone in. Summer wanted it harder. Summer wanted it faster. And as the village behind her chanted and watched the sexual scene unfold before them, Summer's embarrassment dissipated, her arousal tripled, and moral depravity set in.

She shrieked with pleasure. It didn't matter if she made noise. It didn't matter if she were louder than she'd ever been before. These people wanted her to get off. Summer wanted to get off. And if she doing this, there was no reason to hold back. There was little humility left to be saved, and she was going to enjoy what she could out of it.

She grunted. She moaned. She cursed. She squealed. Her whole body writhed on top of the altar as the chief began to assault her pussy more rapidly than before. In and out she felt the dildo slide, dipping again and again inside her. The priest, leading the chant to her left, placed a hand upon her painted back. Summer was sure now that her sweat was causing the paint on her body to run, to drip onto the snakeskin mat beneath her. But she paid it no heed, centering her concentration on the current that was flowing from her crotch.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Summer screamed at the top of her lungs, knowing that no one but Otoniel would understand her and not caring that he would, either. She bounced back and forth on the dildo, letting her body take her wherever it felt best, and allowing the chief to do to her whatever he saw fit. She had no control over how fast or how hard he used the dildo; she was completely at his mercy.

Summer longed to reach back and play with her clit, but the restraints around her wrists wouldn't allow it. She pulled at them anyways, hoping that they'd eventually tear free and that she could join Pachacamac in playing with her pussy. But they held, and Summer had to grind her teeth, allowing herself to be passive in the fucking she was receiving from the chief, while all of Hanan Pacha watched.

It was unlike any sex that Summer had ever had before. She'd done big guys in the past. She'd been fucked in the position that she was in now. But never with anything the size of the qollqephichilu, never with the intensity that the chief was plunging into her, never with the eyes of so many people on her.

And, in the end, it was the audience that put her over the edge. An entire village was watching her fuck. An entire village was watching her squirm in her restraints. An entire village was watching as the dildo came hypnotically in and out of the naked blonde on the altar. Pachacamac. Apotequil. Chasca. Yana. Pariacaca. Mancocapac. Puka. Catequil. Kulli. Otoniel. Each one of them was fixated on her, on her body, on her fucking.

It was too much. In just a few minutes from when the enormous silver dildo had entered her slit, Summer began to cum.

She shrieked as a wave of sexual fire enveloped her body, screaming out into the Bolivian night with intensity that she'd never felt before. She continued to be fucked by the qollqephichilu, continued to be impaled upon it, as her whole body began trembling. The orgasm shot up her spine, down her legs, and to the tips of her fingers, exacting a scream that Summer was sure would cost her her voice in the morning.

Applause and shouts went up from the people behind her, ecstatic about the culmination of the T'ojsiy. Their curse had been lifted. Sipusiki had been appeased. They would be able to get pregnant again.

Summer had climaxed.

***

The next ten minutes or so were a blur to the blonde girl. She remembered the dildo being extracted. She remembered being cut loose from her restraints. She remembered stepping down from the altar and limping through a cheering crowd all around her.

Eventually, Summer found Otoniel, standing with another man. Her vision was blurry, her mind unable to concentrate on anything but the residual sparks of pleasure that were still shooting from her pussy, but she recognized the man as Russ Szalinski.

Walter was in Guayaramerin, receiving the treatment he needed, and would be okay. Russ had raced back to Hanan Pacha with Anqas and Punchau sooner than he'd planned. He'd arrived while Summer was waiting alone on the cliff-face, assured by Otoniel that this was her doing, that this was what she wanted. He'd watched as she was toyed into orgasm by the chief.

Summer should have been shocked and ashamed by having her colleague watch her being fucked by the qollqephichilu while the Huaca looked on. She probably would be later. But for now, as she hobbled silently away from him, there was nothing that could bring her down from the ecstasy that she felt.

Otoniel was waiting patiently with clothes for Summer. Panties. Bra. Skirt. Tank top. Shoes. But she just brushed past him, grunting for him to meet her after she'd washed all the paint off in the Clemente, after she'd had a few minutes to be alone in the water, and indulge in the post-T'ojsiy bliss that had overrun her body.

***

A tall, strong-looking man stood at the window of his office, staring out at the skyscraper being built in the Babylon skyline behind him. His skyscraper.

It would be completed soon, all one hundred and twenty-three stories. It would stand as the tallest building on Earth, a testament to his empire. A testament to Knox Industries. A testament to Jupiter Knox himself.

Knox listened as one of his vice presidents, Andrew Duncan, droned on and on about the findings of one of Knox's subsidiaries, Ambrosia Pharmaceuticals. Something about tree frogs. Something about a miraculous, pain-relieving native cream. Something about a type of aberrant silver.

Of course, Duncan was practically reading from the report, throwing out seven-syllable scientific words as if they meant something to the industrialist. But he caught one or two words, and, interest piqued, he turned to the younger man.

"'Stimulus-enhancement?'" Knox quoted back at him. "Are you saying that the silver is like some sort of Spanish fly? It's an aphrodisiac?"

"No sir," Duncan ventured carefully, not wanting to contradict his boss. "It's nothing like that. The Huaca silver doesn't cause stimulation itself, but rather magnifies stimulation that already exists. The Ambrosia team didn't even know about it, still don't know about it, I don't think. The woman, er -" Duncan glanced down at the name on the report in front of him, "Doctor Monroe, didn't even fully realize its effects. She wrote them off as her own emotions, her own stimulation, her own excitement. It took the labs back here, in Babylon, to fully discover its effects."

"Hmm," Knox responded. He was a quiet man, someone whose silence only made him seem that much more powerful. "And the team?"

Duncan paused for a moment, wondering what his boss was thinking. Nonetheless, he continued to brief the other man. "Doctor Szalinski and Doctor Newcomb are both back in Babylon. Doctor Szalinski has been working with the amphibian DNA samples they collected for the six months since returning from Bolivia. And Doctor Newcomb has made a full recovery, though he is now in the employ of Sussex University downtown in the University District. He's teaching next term, I believe."

"And the girl?" Knox asked. "Doctor Monroe?"

"Bolivia. She stayed behind in Valle de los Reyes, with the translator and the Huaca. Apparently, the Indians believe that she was blessed by some sort of fertility goddess....some sort of fertility goddess that travels in the form of a jaguar, I believe.

"She does research now and then, and mails it back stateside. But from what I understand, her primary role has become traveling from village to village to village, breaking a curse that the Huaca believe was inflicted upon them by the goddess. She goes in, performs some ritual, and then suddenly the pregnancy rates begin to climb in whatever village it is. Hanan Pacha, Uca Pacha, Sumaq Wasi - they've all got pregnancy rates that have that have just exploded over the past six months."

"Intriguing," Knox mused. He gazed back at the skyscraper that was growing a few blocks away, juxtaposed next to his own reflection. "Intriguing."