Talla's Fallen Temple Ch. 12

"I'm working on making it better," he promised.

She looked back at him, feeling the power of his intentions, the commitment behind his words. Something in her sensed the truth of it, reflected it back. Vitality came to her face.

Suddenly, she moved, and their lips were locked together.

What it was to her, Zhair'lo couldn't be sure. Not until they were meshed. For his part, he was still dealing with the shock that here, in his arms, was a girl who had been so hopelessly miserable that she had considered ending her life. While it was some consolation that none of the other Sealed Virgins had ever hinted of their plights being so awful, it was still more pressure than he wanted to deal with.

What would have become of V'shika if he'd failed to upgrade her? Might he have been responsible for her death?

What if he had made a mistake of some kind four nights ago?

Nine hells.

He had made a mistake four nights ago. Or someone had. He had penetrated the Sorceress of Within, which wasn't proper. The whole Rite could have been called off in that instant. They might have left V'shika sitting there on her altar, alone and untended, more hopeless than ever.

But she kissed him now, with a softness of lips and talent of tongue that didn't belong to someone of her Discipline. She kissed him with life, desire and, above all other things, the energy of hope.

So he kissed her back, and gave to her what life he had, that she would desire to go on and find life better than it had been.

After a time, they came apart, panting for air.

"Zhair'lo," she whispered, her voice quick and happy.

"Hm?"

She gulped, looking away and biting the corner of her lips. One of her eyebrows twitched up.

"I'm supposed to call your name," she said, her words coming fast and light.

"What?"

"And then you lead me to your room ... err ... tent, I guess."

The protocol. They smiled at each other.

She leapt up and pulled him to a standing position alongside her. She made a sudden move to draw him toward the nest of canvas dwellings, but turned back and pressed her body against him.

"But maybe a tent farther away from the others?" she asked. "I want a little privacy."

"There's another clearing with a few tents set up," he offered. "For when there's a bigger Hunt."

"Good."

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Maksa was twenty two years old, which was considered extremely young for an Adept. She had learned just weeks ago that there was a thing called an Officer Track, which she was probably on. It meant that advancement and promotion would come more quickly since she was seen as a rising star.

There were other effects of being only twenty two, however

These too occurred to her as she was led to stand by a small blanket on the circular dais used by the Division of Form for its upgrades, but she was distracted by the simultaneous arrival of the Source.

Across from her was H'reena, looking absolutely resplendent in her layers of jewelled, orange silk. The Officer bowed politely to her, tilting her head only slightly so as not to dislodge her golden circlet, and offered a reassuring smile. The woman's clothing was amazing: transparent in all the right places; layered but still snug and flattering where it mattered and composed of so many shades of orange that it was dizzying to look at.

Attendants, clothed in the white mid-length skirts of Virgins, stoked the fire quickly and moved aside.

Behind the fire, the Queen of Form rose from her seat.

"Who comes before me, requesting an upgrade?"

The formula changed, from Division to Division, but the relevant particulars didn't. In Endowment, there was a Warden of sorts who introduced the candidates. In Sweetness, they called out names from the list. Here in Form, she was expected to speak for herself.

"My name is Maksa Ayella."

"What is it you desire, daughter of Sweetness?"

That was odd. Was it necessary to let everyone know that she was an outsider? Maksa always felt out of place in Form as it was. This seemed to rub it in.

"A Facial upgrade, Highness. My first."

"What say you, Sorceress of Facial?"

The blonde Sorceress in her emerald green silks touched two fingers to her lips and blew a kiss to Maksa. The woman's smile alone was enough to warm her heart, even in the deepest, darkest part of Form.

"I approve, Highness."

"Very well," the Queen called out. "Bring in the Conduit."

Maksa knelt on her blanket as torches were doused and drums began beating. She'd been worried a bit since H'reena had warned her that Facial upgrades were a bit different where music was concerned. The familiar beating assuaged her homesickness, inasmuch as it felt much like her other upgrades.

Then the singing began.

The voices were beautiful. She'd been to Bazaars and several kinds of festival before, so she'd heard the women of Facial sing, but never like this.

Perhaps this was a song they sang only for upgrades. It had a sense of sadness and deep regret in it, but with a layer of everlasting hope bursting out from the centre. It seemed as if a fountain had been buried under water and there was just a little spot in the surface of a pond where water heaved in response.

The Conduit passed by her, heading for H'reena.

Maksa gulped and returned to her thoughts.

One of the other things about being only twenty two was that it had been less than five years since the advent of her eighteenth birthday and her entrance to the Temple. Less than five years since she'd gone through the Temple's Initiation.

So she remembered very well, as a skinny teenager, making all those boys ejaculate on the different parts of her body: three to her genitals; three to her breasts; one on her ass; one on her stomach and one more – the last one – on her face and hair.

It seemed everyone left Facial to last, it being the messiest and most frightening of the bunch. In the same way, the entire Discipline of Facial was left to last. Last choice of Virgins doing their Initiation. Last choice – in fact never a choice – when looking for Goddesses. Sorceresses of Facial rarely made it to Queen, so great was the fear of a Goddess springing from that corner. It was often considered safer, all other routes failing, to promote a Second of Iron or Tight straight through Sorceress to Goddess rather than put Facial anywhere near the obsidian throne.

And yet.

Something had drawn Maksa here.

At first, she'd thought it was the pretty eyes. Then she'd thought it was the graceful smiles and those liquid voices that could sing a charging tiger to sleep.

But, no, it was something else. These women knew something – knew how to do something – and Maksa wanted to know what that was. She also, probably, wanted to be able to do it.

The only way to get there, from here, was by having a man ejaculate on her face. That seemed a little odd, but not absurdly so. She sometimes wondered why the Temple hadn't found a way to deliver upgrades without all the mess. Allowing men to have any power at all just wasn't their way. As things stood, the men didn't seem to see it this way, instead counting themselves lucky to be permitted the privilege.

Maksa would have thought that removing men from the equation entirely would have been high on the list of the High Officers' priorities. Nine hundred years of research ought to have found something.

She couldn't see what H'reena was doing to the Conduit, as only his backside was visible to her, but she imagined the man's erection being rubbed all over the Officer's face and hair, and possibly being worked over with tongue and lips.

The Conduit stepped back, made a polite bow towards H'reena, and turned his body past the fire to face Maksa.

Pretty well endowed, as far as men went, but she wasn't concerned about length or girth at the moment. The important thing was the rigidity of his manhood. Maksa was too nervous, both about where she was and what she had to do, to be aroused by the sight of him. On a purely technical level, with his erection just above the horizontal, he looked capable of delivering the goods.

He was sweating. She saw that when he arrived. Sweating, but not profusely. She held the chalice up to him and noticed the way his shoulder length blonde hair, still wet from the showers, glistened in the firelight.

She began spreading the Synergist across her forehead and cheeks and over her lips, pursing them afterwards so the liquid coated her thoroughly. From there, it was into her short brown hair. She wondered, as she rubbed it in, which way her hair would go. There was no hint, as of yet, what the gift of Facial would bring in that department.

The job complete, she recaptured the chalice and carefully laid it on the floor beside her blanket.

There was nothing complicated at this point. She was a woman with four years of experience handling men. She pulled him in close, rising up to her maximum height in this position, and pointed him directly at the bridge of her nose.

Really, there was nothing to feel anxious about, was there? Once he began ejaculating she would close her eyes. She was already covered in clear syrup anyway, so what would a little come matter?

The Conduit inhaled sharply and let out a long, sharp breath. She felt his testicles tighten in her left hand even as the right stroked him to a swollen shade of purple. He was ready.

His ejaculation? She never saw it. Instead, the first telltale twitch of his penis triggered an instinct that shut her eyes instantly. She felt him coming; felt an impact across her brow and over her left eye. Freeing up a hand for the purpose of smearing the charged liquid over her face, she continued stroking him.

There was another contact over her right eye. No telling what the volume was like, but it felt pretty solid. She distracted herself from the thought of semen getting in her eyes by spreading what had already been launched at her down to her lips.

What could she do now? H'reena had told her, quite explicitly, what was to be done if she wanted the full advantage of the Facial upgrade.

'If you want to speak as we do,' H'reena had said, 'and sing as we do, there is only one way.'

She pushed some of the mixture of Synergist and semen down to her lips and, with a sudden impulse, pushed some of it into her mouth.

The taste was a strange mixture of sour and bitter. She had rarely tasted semen and never tasted Synergist, so she had no idea which flavour came from what, but she surreptitiously sucked it over her tongue and down her throat, as H'reena had advised.

'It's not an overly pleasant taste. You'll want to get it to your throat quickly.'

Maksa hoped it was worth it.

She had tilted her head down, making sure the Conduit put two or three solid shots into her hair. She wanted, now that she was in it, to have beautiful hair. Wavy, curly and long – any colour would do as long as it wasn't dirty brown. Black, blonde or, gods help her, red would be wonderful.

Then he was done.

Maksa released him, using both hands to rub the Synergist and semen mixture over her face and hair until she eventually admitted to herself that the warmth was gone and she'd taken all she could from the Rite.

The singing came to an end and she felt her sense of urgency evaporate into the night sky.

Though her eyes were still closed, she detected the presence of someone nearby, on her right, so she reached out and found a warm, wet towel placed in her hands. Gratefully, she took the towel and began wiping her face.

Thus ended her first Facial upgrade.

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Zhair'lo was glad to see that the girl who had sunk into his lap and curled against his chest in utter dejection had brightened up so much. There was a light in her eyes that reminded him of the unapologetic glee he'd seen, just four days ago, the moment she'd realized her upgrade had worked. They stumbled from one clearing into the other as she pulled at the ties on his shirt and he attempted to keep hold of the hastily folded blankets from his assigned tent.

They never quite made it to any of the tents.

V'shika yanked the blankets from his hands and snapped the warmer one out over the grass. Reflected moonlight burning in her eyes, she leapt into his arms. The moment she gave him to prepare for impact wasn't quite enough and he staggered to the ground.

"You were wonderful," she said, heedless of the tumble they'd taken. "I can't thank you enough."

He smiled. This was the kind of behaviour he was used to and he was glad to see it come to the fore.

"Doing my duty," he said. "And I promised a girl, a while ago, that I would break every seal I could."

"And you did."

She kissed him, heavily and wetly, mouth open and tongue probing.

"Nine gods," she muttered around their kiss. "Nine gods, how I've wanted to do that."

She rolled over on to the blanket, pulling him on top of her.

"C'mon, c'mon," she breathed into his ear while tugging on his shorts.

With the ties loosened, she bent her knees so her toes could hook the fabric of his clothing and pull it down the length of his legs.

"Put it in," she begged. "I'm not wearing anything underneath ... just put it in."

She hiked her skirt, gathering its folds until they were up past her waist in a bunch on her slim abdomen.

His eyebrows rose. It wasn't strange that a girl came to him without underwear on. That was pretty standard, really, even for the virgins on their first nights. Since Illya, in fact, he couldn't remember a single girl who had worn anything under her skirt.

That wasn't what bothered him.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Don't you want to be on top?"

"Why?" she replied, confusion evident in her tone.

"So you don't get hurt ... you can control the speed -"

"Between my legs, I ache with two upgrades," she pointed out wryly. "Don't think you're going to hurt me any worse than that."

Zhair'lo exhaled through pursed lips.

"All right. Ready?"

"Do it."

He set himself against her lips, feeling the wetness that was already leaking out. It would be smooth then, at least, even if it might be too tight for her comfort. The mesh would tell him, though, wouldn't it?

V'shika spread her legs, exposing her more tender flesh to his probe. He slid down past her clitoris until the head of his penis reached the point where her divide deepened. She gave him one more nod, prodding him to keep going.

So he pushed, feeling the little popping sensation as the ridge of the head of his erection slipped past the ring of her entrance.

The mesh came on like a pack of wild horses. Zhair'lo could barely make sense of it. V'shika was full of energy – wild, unstable energy. Harnessed, she might go all night. Untamed, there was no telling where exactly she would go when she went. Meshing with her was like trying to run through a field so soaked with rain it had become mud. He kept thinking he was going to slip and fall on his face, but there she was, taking his hand and dragging him along as if walking through this mess were an everyday occurrence for her.

Was her life always like this?

As much at her behest as his own, he pushed forward until he was fully buried inside her.

"You've never had a double Within girl, have you?"

Zhair'lo thought about that. Initiates were pretty rare in his bed. Most of his bedmates were Virgins in knee-length skirts. Thinking through the companions he'd had with shorter skirts, he couldn't think of one from Within.

"No," he said, shaking his head.

She smiled.

And then she moved. Not on the outside ... just on the inside.

He gasped.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm so glad you doubled me, just so I could do ... this."

She did another thing, inside, a ring of pressure running from the bottom of his shaft and up towards the tip. It didn't make it all the way to the end, but it was more than enough and it was more than he'd felt from anyone else.

"I'm gonna make you come," she said, gritting her teeth. "Make you come so hard."

He inhaled deeply, trying not to let his words come out as a whimper.

"Won't take long."

"I can do this to you again and again," she threatened. "A hundred times a night."

That sounded absurd, but Zhair'lo couldn't think much of it because she continued to do that insane thing with her vagina, over and over.

His shaft hardened inside her, ready to explode from the pressure she was building up in the tip. She pushed him, over and over again, pulling his head down until their foreheads touched and she could feel the sweat off his brow.

When he felt that he could take no more, he pushed for orgasm. In that very moment, when it became inevitable, she clamped down her entrance as tightly as she could.

His eyes went wide in dismay. He couldn't ejaculate. She had somehow physically stopped their orgasm, right at the point of no return.

V'shika's head went back and her back arched with the strain of squeezing her internal muscles with such force. She couldn't hold out very long, could she? Zhair'lo began to panic. Could she?

No, fortunately.

Her vagina, exhausted, gave way, released them both.

Zhair'lo let out a shout of relief and the first burst from his loins exploded inside her.

Did she scream, too? He couldn't even tell, he was so far gone.

Spasms of joy racked his body and hers as their twitching bodies hammered at each other for gods only knew how long.

When he slipped out of her and felt on his back at her side, his last thought before passing out was, 'hundreds of times?'

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Maksa could feel the skin on her face itching. Her flesh felt taut and drawn, as if she was smiling her most ridiculous smile and her face was about to be torn from the pressure. Except that it wasn't just her face. The pain went up over her forehead and into her scalp all the way down to the back of her neck.

Her throat felt funny, too, and she had trouble swallowing.

'The thing with having trouble swallowing,' she thought, 'is that it makes you want to swallow more often.'

She tried to think about something that wasn't swallowing, but there was little around her to distract her, even if she were capable of seeing properly. Her vision had started going blurry before she'd even left the Chamber.

She knew that she was sitting on the edge of a bed, bracketed by white curtains and watched over by a leather armoured guard, waiting for whatever doctor was on duty. It would have to be somebody from Sweetness, wouldn't it? All doctors were, as far as she knew.

She heard a door click open, somewhere to her right. The guard, fuzzy though she was in Maksa's vision, definitely turned to look in that direction and seemed to come to an even stiffer attention.

"Mistress," she intoned.

That was saying something. The guard was not of any middling rank. Someone important must have come in.

Blonde hair flashed into view, trailed by flowing green clothing that sparkled with jewels. The Sorceress of Facial leaned in close to Maksa.

"How are we, dear?" she sang. "Vision a bit blurred."

"Actually it's very -," Maksa started.

"The eyes," the Sorceress interrupted, "are going light blue, maybe even grey."

Facial gave her no opportunity to say another word, pattering on about the changes she would feel in the coming days. Her vision would be a minor inconvenience for a few hours, after which it would greatly improve. Her hair would start changing colour at the roots. The Sorceress guessed it might go black, but couldn't be sure. Hearing would improve somewhat, as would her sense of -

Maksa never found out what sense the woman in green thought would also improve, for the door clicked open again. Supposing it to be the doctor, Maksa mentally prepared herself for some type of examination.