Past Loves Ch. 04: Bakila and Helene

All characters and persons involved in sexual activities in this story are over the age of 18.

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4: Palace of Knossos, Minoa (modern day Crete): 1700BC

Bakila and Helene

Bakila checked her reflection in the small polished bronze mirror that was one of her few prized possessions. The long dark hair she was currently brushing framed a face which was warped weirdly in the imperfect sheen of the metal surface. But if she looked closely, from the right angle she found that she could usually check her appearance before beginning her day. She could make out her short well pronounced nose above her full dark-tinted lips, and the smooth open forehead above a pair of widely spaced dark brown eyes which were currently rimmed with a thick application of dark makeup. The orange glow of the oil lamp beside her combined with the gold sheen of the mirror gave her reflection an almost reddish sunburnt tint. But in reality her skin was a deep olive brown, currently lightly oiled and scraped clean.

She put the mirror down on her bedside table and stood up, making sure that her long white robe was properly set about her body. The low neckline fell almost to her midriff, exposing the wide open expanse of her chest between two diminutive breasts, and the loose airy fabric hung in pleats from her slim hips. It took a moment to securely fasten her leather sandals around her ankles and finally to don a simple golden necklace, her only adornment, around her neck.

As a young woman of around 18 years of age, she was considered very beautiful by many of her peers. She was well aware of this because of the way that many of the men that she ministered to looked at her. She felt their lusty wandering eyes search over her body when she was beseeching The Goddess on their behalf, felt them stare at her bottom whenever she turned to place offerings on the altar. For this reason she was sometimes glad that her position as acolyte of The Lady prohibited her from lying with a man until her appointed time.

Until her time came, she was subject to the whims of The Lady herself. Both the glorious light-giving deity of the sun and fertility, and the High Priestess of the Temple. She herself had no name as she had given it up when she had become the goddess incarnate, and one day, if The Lady willed it, Bakila herself would also ascend to godhood.

Bakila was not sure how she felt about the idea of ascension. She had very few ties which would keep her here amongst her mortal peers. Her family were long gone and although she had some friends amongst the other acolytes of The Lady, she would not have said that any of them were particularly close. Her status as the next Lady in line had placed a wall between her and the other girls of the temple. So in one way it would be very easy for her to abandon her mortality and become the vessel of the Goddess herself. But at the same time, she also felt that she had so much more living left to do before she submitted her body to incarnation.

It was not as if she had much of an opportunity to run free and experience all of the myriad pleasures and pains of life in the kingdom of Minoa in any case. Although the island kingdom was the richest, most magnificent and most wealthy of all the Middle Sea, Bakila herself had seen little of it. She had lived most of her life in the Temple, ever since she had been donated by her absent parents. That night, a light had been seen streaking across the heavens towards the east, and she had been prophesied as the next Lady.

For this reason, she had not had the opportunity to interact with many others in the outside world. She had never run through the streets of the town below, or bathed in the brilliant crystal blue ocean, or picked the olives from the trees and tasted their fresh ripe juiciness. And she was grateful for so much, for being blessed as the next goddess was an inconceivably high privilege, and she had wanted for nothing in life. But still, it might have been nice once or twice to have run under the stars, or felt the hot passionate embrace of another person in the dark recesses of the night.

Bakila sighed dramatically and brushed down her long shift before opening the door to her small sleeping chambers and stepping out into the wider temple palace at the top of the hill. Her room was on the third floor of the temple, outside of which a long balcony corridor ran the length of the large inner courtyard. It was still dark outside, the stars wheeling overhead but in the distant east she could make out the first purple-blue lighting of the sky that indicated a coming dawn.

She was up this early because it was her duty to inspect the main offering chamber before the first parishioners arrived seeking The Lady's Blessing. She had to ensure that the incense was filled, the bathing basin was clean and that the residues of yesterday's offerings were cleared away. It was also a very special day today, the day of the Bull Festival down in the town below. So there would be many more people flocking to the temple seeking good luck in their gambles and blessings for the coming harvest ahead.

Bakila made her way down the many ornately painted and carved corridors of the palace, down through the winding stairs and labyrinthine passages which wound their way through the building. She knew the way by heart now and could do it in the dark, so she carried no clay oil-lamp with her to announce her presence.

As she rounded the corner which led into the corridor to the temple, she saw that there was already a pale orangey-yellow light burning inside the inner room. That was strange, she was almost sure that she would be the first one there this morning, no-one else should be awake. Perhaps someone left the lamp burning last evening and it had somehow lasted through the night? Bakila was about to step forwards and enter the room when she heard a noise from inside which stopped her in her tracks. It sounded like a cry, a cry of sorrow or maybe pain, whatever it was made her freeze where she stood. For a moment there was nothing, and she thought perhaps that she had imagined it, or perhaps a distant night bird had screeched out and her sleepy mind had mis-heard it.

Just as she was about to step forwards again and pull aside the heavy red curtain which filled the doorway to the temple, the noise sounded out again, a high, but throaty moan, definitely female. Bakila's brow furrowed, whoever was in there was either in pain or experiencing entirely something else.

Without making a sound, the young acolyte slid her way forwards slightly until she could peek through the gap between the door frame and the heavy curtain. Although the light was still dim and it took a moment for her eyes to focus, Bakila could still make out the form of something which confused and excited her in equal measures.

Sitting on top of the large stone altar in the middle of the room, with her legs spread wide open and her head thrown back was The Lady herself. She had her back to where Bakila was standing so that she could only see the older woman's naked shoulders and long mane of black-silver hair flowing off her head like a waterfall. But her legs were definitely also completely naked and definitely also thrown wide open, with her heels placed just on the edge of the altar, and her arms supporting her weight behind her, From here Bakila could see the full roundness of The Lady's bottom pressing into the cold smooth stone beneath her, and she could also see the sweat beading on the woman's body. She was uttering the occasional small cry and whimper as she reclined on her own offering altar, her hips very lightly gyrating in motion with some unheard music.

The next moment, the reason for The Lady's strange behavior and evident pleasure became clear to Bakila, still spying from behind the curtain. Between The Lady's legs Bakila could make out the shape of another head, bobbing up and down in motion with the thrusting hips. At the same time, she also saw two sinuous powerful looking arms reach up and around The Lady's body, caressing her skin and holding her in the small of her back.

For a moment, Bakila was completely confused by what she saw in the room beyond. Never in her 18 years of life had she ever seen such a spectacle, what was The Lady doing? Who was this other person, and what was she doing to The Lady? She was about to burst in and interrupt this clearly sacrilegious behaviour when the other person, who until now had been mostly out of sight, knelt up a little bit. Their lips and chin were completely drenched in dripping liquid, as if they had just feasted on a juicy fruit with their whole mouth. It was another woman, her face narrow and defined, the jawbone powerful and firm. Her hair, which was long and dark and curly, was tied back behind her head in a thick bun. Her eyes looked up to meet The Lady's gaze with evident pleasure and satisfaction.

Bakila's breath caught in her throat as she realised what was happening. This other woman, tall and lithe with those deep dark brown eyes was knelt between The Lady's legs and was licking, nibbling and feasting heartily on the Goddess's evidently dripping wet pussy. The Lady was also clearly enjoying the experience because she reached forwards with her hand and grabbed the other woman by the hair before forcing her head back down to where she had been feasting. The sounds of soft licking and sucking filtered through the gap between the door and the curtain once more and made Bakila's knees tremble with excitement and fear.

Who was this woman? What was this strange ritual that The Lady was allowing her to perform upon her sacred body? How did it feel to have another woman's tongue buried deep inside her? To have those strong lithe arms wrap around her form and caress her skin? All of these questions and more continued to whirl through the young acolytes mind as she continued to peer through the gap in the curtain, unable to tear her eyes away from the spectacle before her. She felt herself becoming hot and flushed, felt something quiver deep down inside her, and she bit her lip nervously as the tension rose.

There was something else too, a desire that she had sometimes felt but never before recognised within herself. As a woman given to The Lady she had never thought that she would ever be allowed the privilege of lying with another person. She had thought that her life would be one of sacred chastity, given to the embodiment of The Goddess. If she was honest with herself she had seen this as no great loss. Unlike some of the other younger acolytes she had never found herself giggling or staring at the bulky, hair covered forms of the men of the town or palace. They had always seemed to be something of a mystery to her, a foreign land that she had heard of but would never visit.

But now Bakila was being introduced to a whole new world, a world of soft curves and moist lips, of gentle moans and sweat beaded on subtle skin. She had a desire, a need for such a feeling, to feel the touch of another woman and know what it felt like to be treated, like The Lady herself was being ministered to. She felt a hot, needy wetness beginning to brim between her legs. Her own libido had been stirred from a long slumber by the sight that she now beheld atop that altar.

Inside the inner chamber, the sounds of sucking and licking had reached almost a frenzy. Accompanying these sounds were the unquenchable little moans and squeals of The Lady as she bit down on her lower lip in order to try and stifle her cries of pleasure. Her hands were gripping the top of the stone altar with white knuckles and her legs were quivering in their spread position. The other woman, whoever she was, was insatiable, barely pausing to come up for breath as The Lady reached her climax.

When it came, it came with a long, silent drawn out shuddering, The Lady's head dropped back on her shoulders and her eyes rolled back in her head as the pleasure rippled through her. The occasional stifled grunt escaped from between her clenched teeth and her free hand gripped the back of the supplicant woman's head firmly, pressing her mouth into her.

From her position by the door Bakila looked on in abject wonder and some small amount of shame that she was witness to this intimate and sacreligious moment that her Goddess incarnate was experiencing. But she did not look away even for a second, hypnotised by the sight.

Finally the tension went out of The Lady's body and she collapsed backwards onto the altar, spent. Her eyes thankfully were softly closed, or she may have seen where Bakila was concealed. Softly, in a daze the naked prone goddess spoke to the other woman who had ministered to her so expertly.

'Well done, Helene. You have pleased your Lady greatly and I shall bestow upon you my blessing for the trial ahead.' She mumbled through the aftershocks of pleasure.

The other woman stood now, wiping her dripping wet mouth on the back of her arm. For the first time Bakila was able to see her whole form. She was, sadly, fully clothed in simple brown linens, with her hair tied back behind her head. She was tall and strong looking, but not bulky, more like an antelope, ready to spring into action whenever needed. Her skin was a darker brown colour than Bakila and The Lady's, so clearly she spent much more of her time out in the sun. Her lips were full and her smile wide as she bowed respectfully to the still prone goddess before her. When she spoke, her voice was deep and sonorous for a woman, filled with heavy overtones and a peculiar accent, which Bakila thought sounded like that of the mainland kingdoms to the north.

'It is my pleasure to serve you my Lady', she said with a bow, 'I am grateful for the honour which you will bestow upon me for my trial.'

- - -

Bakila turned away and put her back to the cold stone wall, her breath was coming fast and she felt flushed, almost unable to take in what she had just witnessed. She felt confused and erotically charged by what she had just seen. What had she just seen? A romantic liaison, or a ritual of some kind? What had The Lady meant when she said she would bestow her blessing? Was this something to do with the festival today?

Her heart skipped a beat as she heard footsteps coming towards the door which she had been spying from. She looked around desperately for a place to run or hide but saw nothing. In desperation she flung her back into an alcove set into the wall in the hope that whoever it was would simply walk past her unnoticed. The next moment the long red curtain which separated the temple interior from the corridor was pulled back and out stepped the tall bronze skinned woman who took a furtive glance to the left and right before stepping out, carefully tidying her hair as she did so.

With a few long strides the mysterious woman took a few steps down the corridor away from Bakila and the hidden young acolyte watched her go, her heart still hammering in her chest. As careful as she was, she could not stop herself from scanning her eyes over the woman's exposed upper back with its broad expanse of soft browned skin, all the way down over her full hips and long powerful legs as she padded silently away from her. Bakila let out a small sigh of relief that she had not been seen and slumped back against the wall. Her mouth was dry and her mind was a mess of confused feelings and images. What she had just seen played over and over in her head like some bizarre theatre show.

Had she really just witnessed a woman feasting upon the intimate parts of The Lady herself? The Lady was supposed to be the celibate mother of all Minoa, giver of life and bringer of the sun. But... perhaps this was some secret ritual known only to The Lady herself, some hidden power to bring fortune to the land. Knowing that she herself would likely become The Lady too one day, Bakila felt a little burst of excitement burst in her chest. What must it feel like to have another woman's tongue lick your lower lips? To feel their hot wet mouth breathe on your most sacred centre? Bakila was lost in the fantasy, the memories of the spectacle she had just seen.

'Hi there,'

a voice suddenly shattered Bakila's fantasies as she was brought back to her small alcove on the side of the temple inner chamber. She squealed out in shock and a little shame and blushed a bright red as she looked up at the person who had greeted her. It was the tall bronze-skinned woman who she had seen walk away down the corridor not a moment before, she must have doubled back.

'Hello,' the woman said again, 'I see you there darling, won't you come out?'

Bakila cringed at the embarrassment of having been found, her mind reeling with the consequences of being discovered spying. Would The Lady be told? Would Bakila be thrown out of the Temple? Perhaps they'd arrest her, or even kill her to keep her mouth shut?! Very slowly she poked her head out of the alcove, keeping her eyes down, unable to look up at the woman who now stood before her, her eyes fixed on the sandaled feet.

'Hi, I'm Helene, what's your name?'

The woman asked her, holding out her hand. Her voice was calm and soft, with no hint of anger or suspicion, but perhaps a little amusement. Bakila gingerly took another step out from the alcove and risked a quick look up at the woman's face. She saw again the sharp curves of her jaw and the dark fullness of her eyes and she blushed again even deeper than before.

'Bakila,' she replied in a soft quiet voice, as she held onto the edge of the wall, shying away from those intense staring eyes.

'Nice to meet you Bakila,' the woman Helene replied.

She adjusted her position until she was standing with her legs widely placed and her hands on her hips.

'I'm going to assume from your flushed expression and timid behaviour that you just saw something that you weren't supposed to?'

Bakila bit her bottom lip and nodded a little bit, unsure of where she stood right now, she didn't want any trouble with this woman, but if it came to it, did she think that she could run fast enough to get away from her, or fight her? Somehow, she didn't think that either option was likely to end well.

'Well if you saw everything that just happened behind this curtain, then I have just one more question for you Bakila... did you like what you saw?'

The question took Bakila completely by surprise, she looked up at Helene, their eyes meeting properly for the first time. Bakila found herself transfixed by those two deep dark pools of brown, with their coyly creased edges and long lashes.

'I...I...'

She stammered, and licked her lips unconsciously as her eyes traced down Helen's face and neck, down to her exposed upper chest and shoulders.

'I... did... enjoy it,' she managed at last, 'I know I shouldn't have watched but... I wanted to see more, it... you were fascinating.'

Helene shifted her position slightly and took another small step closer, resting her long arm against the wall by Bakila's head, a playful smirk folding its way across her full lips. She was clearly enjoying Bakila's shy discomfort, but was not done playing with her yet.

'Fascinating? Haha, I find you quite intriguing too Bakila, you're an acolyte of The Lady herself aren't you? Perhaps one day you'll take on the mantle of the goddess as well?'

Bakila bit her lip and nodded nervously, still staring up at the taller woman as she loomed over her, besotted with those wide entrancing eyes.

'Yes,' she breathed, their faces were now merely a few feet apart, Bakila could feel Helene's breath playing lightly across her skin, which made her shiver slightly.

'Perhaps one day I can serve you, as I served the lady today?' Helene asked as she cocked her head to the side and winked at her.

'Or perhaps you'd rather not wait that long?'

Bakila was overwhelmed by the whole situation, the revelation of what she had just seen combined with the roiling emotions and desires which she found newly kindled inside her. She felt both the urge to run and hide and the need to lean into what she was feeling and let herself go, both impulses vying for control of her next move. The next moment, almost without realising what she was doing, Bakila felt her body lean forwards and meet the soft, full lips of Helene with her own.