Kiravi's Travelogue Ch. 06

I nodded quickly, "By a priest of the Pashudia, in Atala."

He snorted with derisive laughter. "You made two mistakes, then: going to a backwater like Atala and seeking the guidance of the Pashudia before the Ettuku."

I answered, though I shouldn't have, for I still knew almost nothing about the gods. "Aren't the Pashudia and Ettuku allies? Cousins, even?"

His voice grew sharp, "Allies in the way a foot soldier is an ally to the Emperor. Cousins in the way a pauper noble might claim kinship to a king. The Ettuku are superior, lords, in every way. Remember that, little girl."

I fought to keep the flare of emotion inside me from reaching my eyes or flooding into my volatile soul. "Yes."

He circled around me again, his voice level once more. "If you're able to control yourself, why is it so important for you to be examined?"

I turned to look at him, my forced calm beginning to crumble, "Because I must know which of the goddesses touched me, and why! I must."

"Goddess? Have you seen this goddess?" He stopped his endless pacing.

Perhaps I'd offered too much, shown myself to this arrogant man that I was losing my grasp on sanity. That's what the qhatuqs had thought. "Yes," I whispered, forging ahead, knowing my goddess was real, "In visions and dreams. But I've been told that she is not a Pashudia, so I came here to seek understanding."

He cocked his head as if listening to something and nodded to himself. "Come, then. The ritual may offer you a beginning of understanding. You must observe only. Say nothing. Do nothing. Once the ritual is complete, you may ask more questions of us and have your examination. Do you understand?"

I nodded, and he led me from the antechamber further into the temple.

The stones and bricks were painted the same dark hues as the ones outside, sometimes blending the rooms' edges and lines where shadows fall across them. The lights that flickered as they struggled to illuminate the corridors and chambers were all magically treated stones set in braziers of carved wood, bone, or antler. I had only the Pashudia temple to compare it to, but this place seemed empty, cold, bordering on menacing when held against the bustling warmth I'd seen in Atala. I saw only one or two other acolytes moving amongst the grand chambers, tidying up prayer spaces and communal tables. Everyone else, I could only assume, was at this unknown ritual.

We moved deeper into the temple, through one massive chamber after another, until he led me to a wide staircase that descended below us. My eyes widened, and my soul prickled with sensation: the magic I'd been feeling was all swirling and coalescing at the bottom of that staircase. It wasn't gloomy but even better lit than the rest of the temple, but my guide still descended slowly, with reverent care.

My body began to tremble, and I clutched my staff even more tightly. The magic swirled around me, investigating me like a living thing, sniffing around my conduit before passing further through stone and brick and flesh. I didn't know why, then, but a feeling was already growing inside of me: a tensing, coiling in my womb and womanhood. I could feel myself grow wetter with every step down into that place. My imagination reeled alongside my senses, conjuring up every manner of explanation for what I was feeling.

But, my, our, readers, every one of those scenarios was wrong.

The stairs turned off to our left, then right, and we emerged into another massive hall. The entire space was filled with kneeling figures, dressed just as my guide was, each chanting under their collective breaths as they prayed and wove one massive spell together. A large, round dais dominated the center of the room, which itself was circular, with a smaller and higher raised ledge of stone overlooking the chamber. I could see it, see all of it, the praying acolytes drawing magic through themselves from the air before sending it towards the dais.

A man stood on the dais, at its center, vast and dominating. To my regular sight, he was massive, broader and taller than even my Kiravi, his skin a strange and unnatural shade of silvery-gray. His over-muscled torso and huge limbs throbbed with power. But, my readers, with the tainted lenses of my eyes that could see the magic churning inside the chamber, I could tell that the strange colors and supernatural bulk were a form of illusion, a half-tangible glamour spun by the worshipping acolytes.

What made me stop, though, and nearly collapse on the cold steps, was the fact that he was naked and setting a mewling and half-conscious female Bhakhuri down on the stone dais. Soon, he was walking purposefully towards another waiting partner. It wasn't only the two females, either; six others rested at regular intervals around the dais, finishing the points of an octagon where they mewled and twitched with the aftershocks of pleasure. The magic not only wrapped the huge man in its power but swirled around each of the female Bhakhuri, growing as it surrounded their bodies. The amplified tongues of power left their sweating, writhing bodies and traveled not to the lustful giant but towards the smaller rocky pedestal.

Where I noticed, with a fresh wave of heat and blood in my womanhood, a statuesque and beautiful woman sat on a bronze throne, adorned only with a bronze crown and a black cloth mask.

She luxuriated there, bronzed skin glistening with sweat, with toned legs loosely crossed. One hand absently twisted through her long black hair, and she gently traced her fingertips up and down her thigh with the other. Amplified streams of magic clung to her, pulsed through her awe-inspiring body, spiraling up and out through the chamber walls. Wherever it disappeared to, something thrummed back, throbbing with the same pulse that directed the chanting acolytes. The same pulse that made the giant's manhood quiver and the blood roar through my womanhood.

My guide and I lingered in the back of the praying mass, just at the foot of the steps, and I had to cling to the wall and my staff to even remain upright. The eight Bhakhuri maidens each looked wildly different, from short to tall, slender to voluptuous to muscular; their features and skin tones varied by their unfortunate parentage, but each had a mark daubed on their foreheads and between and just above their breasts. All had been smeared by sweat and the surely wild rutting I'd already missed, save the final maiden already moaning in the giant's arms.

She was thin and short, but her sweat-sheened skin covered wiry and bunched muscles. Her skin and hair were different shades of greenish-gray, and the marks daubed on her were a dark purple. Against the giant, she looked tiny and frail, and I couldn't help but imagine how I'd look wrapped, trapped, in those magically endowed arms.

The chanted prayers rose in pitch and volume, and the giant looked to the regal woman effortlessly controlling the ritual. "Now, we complete the Ritual of Dominance." She said, voice booming with some unnatural power, rich but feminine. "By subjugating the Akagi once more with the superior power of the Ettuku." The acolytes sang with divine ecstasy, and she waited for them to return to their chants before continuing. "The Akagi! Great enemies of the gods and the mortals who plead with them for a reprieve from their savagery! We spit on their name and those that give them strength, as we do with every swelling of the moon, to show our lords that we acknowledge their utmost primacy."

With that, she nodded at the giant.

He hoisted the female up into the air in an instant, cradling her in massive arms for only a moment before dropping her onto his throbbing hardness. She shrieked with pain or pleasure, or both perhaps, I couldn't tell which, and a lightning bolt of pleasure shot into my depths. Her arms and legs curled around him, clutching to his bulk like an anchor in the real world, but really there was no need; his massive hands clasped her pert rump and held her in place with awe-inspiring ease.

After only a moment, he bent slightly at the knees and pulled her up until just his tip was buried inside her before thrusting upwards and pulling her body down all at once. Again, she squealed, clawing at his back, burying her face into the bulging muscles of his shoulder. Even over the endless chanting and the thunder of my own blood in my ears, every slap of his strong hips against hers was deafening. His muscles rippled, veins bulged, and he rutted her so roughly that even her whip-like body visibly shuddered every time he smashed her down onto his manhood.

My lips parted, my breath coming in gasps as ragged as the Bhakhuri maiden's. To me, there was nothing else in the world other than the dominant ritual scene playing out before me and the searing need inside of me. My hand traced up and down my thigh before, of its own accord, it seized the hem of my dress and slowly drew it up my trembling legs.

The maiden bit her lips so hard I was certain she'd draw blood, nails raking bright gashes in the giant's dark back. His fingers dug into the taut flesh of her rear, clutching her so tightly I knew it had to be painful for her. They moved together so quickly, so intimately they seemed like extensions of the same body, the same soul. Even with the brutal slapping together of skin, the welts already coming up on their bodies, their closeness was intoxicating to me.

I could feel the cold air of the room swirling around my upper thighs now. For only a moment, I tore my eyes from the ritual to see my hand and wrist had disappeared under my bunched-up dress, fingertips poised over my searing womanhood. What was happening to me, I remember thinking? Here was a room full of strange people, in a strange land, wielding magic stronger than anything I'd yet seen. A ritual that should have terrified me was playing out before my eyes, and yet my first instinct was to rub myself, bury my fingers into my wetness until I screamed with pleasure. The acolyte was still right next to me, I could feel his presence, but that didn't matter to me.

I didn't care. I couldn't care, and that horrified and excited me. My goddess writhed inside of me, pushed me.

The maiden shrieked with pleasure, already bursting with ecstasy under the relentless and brutal strokes of the giant. Her back arched so powerfully I was sure she'd throw herself from his grip, but he easily maintained his control, never once relenting. Her nectar dripped from their hips down and between his legs, his huge and swollen sack slapping into her pert rear again and again.

When her orgasm finally faded, she shrieked again, this time in surprise. He bent slightly forward, roughly pulling her arms from around his neck and forcing her body to fall backward. Her head and shoulders resting awkwardly on the dais, sweat-slick hair splayed around her, he settled over top of her with his hyper-masculine bulk. Not once did he slip from inside of her, not even as he forced her legs as wide as they could go and she whimpered, and not as he repositioned and settled over top of her. Like a farmer using a heavy stone to batter a fencepost into the dirt, he began pounding down into her with all his weight and lust.

With one arm, she tried to steady herself against the ground in her precarious position. Her other slid up her taut stomach and found the hard nub just above where his manhood smashed into her again and again and started to violently rub herself. Her fingers soon became a blur against her nub, just as her body rippled from his thrusts.

Pleasure shot through me like fire in my veins, and I couldn't help but moan, gasping, breath shuddering in my throat. My fingers were rubbing in lazy circles around my clit, faster and faster, already damp with my nectar, and I didn't remember how they'd gotten there. Never before, in my short life, had I ever even considered being able to touch myself and feel the same sensation as when Kiravi took me.

I moaned again, pulled in a ragged breath, and a light flashed at the edges of my vision. For a moment — only a perfect, shining moment — I recalled my goddess' face so vividly that I could see her in the chamber with us. I could feel her move inside of me, trembling with reflected lust, uncoiling as she bathed in the ritual as I did.

The giant's hands clenched on the maiden's legs tighter, ever tighter, his face a contorted mask of concentrated power. Every vein throbbed in his temple and scalp as he smashed down into the helpless maiden again and again. She tried to arch her back, to squirm and twist, not to escape but only to respond to his relentless rutting. Her mouth hung half-open, eyes nearly closed but still just barely able to look up at the beast using her body for his pleasure. And, over it all, the endless slap-slap-slap of his hips crashing down into hers.

She tensed, slipping on sweat and nectar staining the dais, eyes squeezing shut, and her mouth slowly widened until she screamed another explosive orgasm into space. My fingers rubbed faster, more insistent, drenched now in my own pleasure, and ecstasy throbbed through me. I tried to remember what Kiravi had taught me, before it was too late, before I lost control, but the maiden's latest orgasm had only strengthened the wild magic swirling in the room.

The giant paused, not to give the maiden a moment to recover but to once again maneuver her into whatever position he desired. Looking past his sweat-sheened, magically rippling bulk, I could see the priestess on the second dais. She stared imperiously down at the ritual, bathing in and controlling the flow of magic with her face all but hidden by the mask. Even so, I watched her head turn slightly, crown gleaming with power, and I knew she was watching me.

My readers, I very nearly collapsed at that moment from the shuddering wave of lust that flowed through me.

Not-quite-formed words and nervous whimpers from the dais somehow managed to draw my attention from the beautiful priestess. The giant had the maiden on all fours facing away from him and into the crowd. He loomed behind her, half bent and crouching, one massive hand grabbing her hip as the other held his manhood in place while he inexorably shoved it forward.

Her eyes alternated between tightly screwed shut and wide with overwhelming sensation every few moments, and her whimpers and half-hearted protests only grew louder as the giant grunted with effort. Of course, now I understand exactly what he was doing and where, but my young and lust-fogged mind took long moments to realize what was happening. Long moments, while she fell first from her hands to her elbows, and then simply collapsed so that her face lay against the cold stone while her hips remained in her mate's grasp.

He growled something at her, releasing himself to grab her other hip, and again saw relentlessly into her. She bit her lip, clawed at the stone with thin fingers, groaned in pain that turned into pleasure. I could see the tension begin to flow away, her body accepting whatever he was doing.

Then, our readers, I could see, just barely, under her arched body, see her womanhood glistening with her dew, and see that it wasn't there that his manhood eagerly penetrated her.

I blushed even more furiously than before, my juices pouring down my thighs just as my magic threatened to flood out of my conduit and bathe the room. First, just the thought and soon after the very act of rubbing myself, and now this? This brute of a man rutting away at her forbidden hole, veins bulging as sweat poured down his face. And the maiden, already mewling with pleasurable pain, eagerly taking him there?

Their hips crashed together, again and again, the smack of flesh the only thing I could hear. My arm ached from the effort as my fingers worked faster and faster, sending me hurtling towards ecstasy. The only thing keeping me upright was my hand on my staff, my legs trembling, threatening to send me to the floor in a puddle of mewling flesh.

My eyes met the priestess' again, and I moaned once more, gasping, barely able to keep the air in my lungs. She was looking right at me, her legs languidly spread on her throne, her hand strumming at herself just as mine did. Light, the same light that had filled my goddess' realm in my vision, seemed to suffuse everything, collecting especially around the reclining priestess. It egged me on, willing me to toy with my throbbing womanhood. It forced me to admit to myself what I'd been thinking ever since I entered this strange place.

I wanted to be up there, manhandled into position, rutted without mercy, pounded in the place that, before then, I'd never even dreamed a man could take a woman.

It all moved so quickly after that. The maiden convulsed with what little strength she had left in her dominated body, half-crying and half-moaning into her final orgasm. I felt the same sensation inside me, bubbling up from deep within my womanhood and womb. Gritting my teeth, I bore down, not to stave off the release I so desperately needed but to keep my magic somehow inside. The giant was roaring even before the exhausted maiden had finished gasping breath back into her lungs, struggling to stand on aching legs. He snatched her up by the hair, hauling her to her knees as he stood over her.

With his other massive hand, he furiously stroked himself above her, aiming his throbbing manhood at her sweaty, hair-plastered face. She tried to look up at him, ignoring whatever pain she felt in her ravaged body, simply waiting to receive his gift, his mark of dominance over her. The chanted spell grew to its crescendo, and he roared and burst all over her.

It blasted out of him, great ropes of it, the first splashing up the center of her face and into her dark green hair, with some flying completely over her to land on the stone. Another coated her left cheek in the hot, sticky seed and splattered down onto her shoulder and breast, and another streaked over her right eye before dripping from her cheekbone. She moaned quietly, opening her mouth to take what was left before sucking his dripping tip into its warm embrace.

As he erupted, so did I, and as he wiped out the sigils daubed on the maiden's head and chest with his gift, the ritual climaxed as all three of us had. Two of my fingers had found their way inside of me, and they curled and twisted against my slick walls while I gushed my nectar onto my hand and thighs. An explosive wave of magic surged from the giant, through the priestess, and out of the room, blinding and overwhelming me. I shrieked, moaned, wailed, screaming my ecstasy to my goddess, to the priestess, to the world. Magic battled with lust to fill my body, mind, and soul, and my last conscious thought was to keep it inside. Kiravi wasn't with me to share the blast of power, so it all rebounded inside of me again and again, triggering what felt like a never-ending river of ecstasy. Light spilled from my eyes, my fingertips, like water overboiling a pot, and burst from the copper tip of my staff like lightning.

My legs finally failed me, and I slumped against the stone even as the acolytes realized my presence and scattered away from me. The ecstasy slowly diminished, like a chain of echoes in a long gully, but as my orgasm finally abated, it took my control and my will with it. The room spun around me, fading, my muscles refusing to do anything but tremble.

The last thing I remembered, as the energy faded and darkness swirled in around me, was the priestess emerging from the crowd in all of her naked glory and squatting in front of me to cup my cheek.

"And where have you come from, young thing, and who has made you this way, hmm? All things we can soon find out, yes? Yes, yes, yes."