Juliana Jones and the Temple of Well, Fuck Me

This story was written for the 750 Word Project 2024. Below this line are exactly 750 words:

What else do you do when you're sixteen, precocious, bored to tears, and stuck at your grandparents' house? You go explore the basement or attic, anything to not have to listen to another story of, 'when I was your age,' or 'back when I met your grandmother.' It was only my sanity at stake.

Knowing my grandfather, he would have been livid if he knew I'd taken it, the box with the pendant and the small book full of gibberish. I guess they were someone's notes. His maybe.

That had been ten years ago. Now I treasured those old stories, let them feed my imagination, drive my ambition. Perhaps my grandparents knew what they were doing. I was following in their footsteps, after all. My grandfathers, anyway.

The book full of gibberish was the basis for the doctoral thesis I had presented three weeks ago.

I couldn't believe it when Dr. Brody said yes. I didn't even bother to tell my grandfather. Instead, I stole his hat, satchel, and whip, and left for the jungles of South America.

Carson padded the canoe as I read the maps and reviewed my notes on Xochipilli. It was his idol I was after, after all. My grandfather had found his twin sister Xochiquetzal's all those years ago, only to have lost it and then stolen it back. It sat in the university's collection. Hopefully, my find will sit next to it.

"Over there. That massive, warped tree." I nudged Carson. The first landmark. I don't know why I even looked at the map. I knew every mark, every nuance by heart. It just made it real, I guess.

We made our way through the thick jungle, cutting a path until we found it. A simple cave into the side of a massive hill. It couldn't be this easy. I thought back to my grandfather's tales about the traps. "There are always those damned traps." He'd said it a hundred times.

With only our flashlights and our wits, we slowly ventured into the darkness.

Surprisingly, there were no traps. What we found was a massive warehouse filled with urn after urn of various seeds. Of course, Xochipilli was the god of agriculture. But what about his idol then, his fertility idol? There had to be more.

There was a massive statue, but that's not what the notes I had described. There had to be something I was missing. I sat on a bench at the base of the statue and took out my notebook. While I pored over my notes, Carson chuckled. Then he laughed.

"What?" I wasn't in a good mood. "What the fuck is so funny?" That made him laugh even harder.

"What you're sitting on. Look at it from here."

He was right. There were supports and handholds, places for straps to be attached. It was literally a fucking sex bench.

"No fucking way." I screamed. Going back to my notes. I had interpreted them all wrong. There were no traps. There was a sacrifice. It was so clear.

"You're going to love this." I grimaced at Carson. "Me not so much."

"You mean, we... On that..." I nodded.

"Which position?"

"How do you know so much about this thing?" I gave him an incredulous glower.

"Kind of have one just like it, only newer." He gave me a quick rundown of how it worked.

"You tell anyone, I mean anyone, about this, and I will use a rusty knife to castrate you. Got it?"

All I got back was a nod. We stripped, and I took the first position. The cold stone underneath me sent shivers through my body.

"Oral first. It's the least disagreeable." I couldn't believe I'd just admitted that sucking a cock was more inviting than getting fucked. At least he was normal sized. He took my head in his hands and slipped himself into my mouth. I felt the pendant getting warm as he used me.

Then anal, it glowed, but still nothing with the statue. Finally vaginal, and I saw it,

right in the statue's crotch. A massive gold penis. The pendant was the conduit. As I orgasmed, the penis fell to the ground.

"I found it, grandpa." I woke him from his nap. "You were right. Xochipilli's idol. I found it." I didn't think he needed to know what I had to do to get it.

"Good job, kid. It took you long enough." He smiled at me. "And stop stealing my damned hat."