The Crystal Phallus

She was overcome by a seething, irrepressible joy, a desire to dance naked in the streets, reveling in the wild and sensual wonder of her own body. A thousand impossibly erotic daydreams whispered through her mind. She lived again every moment of every secret tryst, every fervent embrace she had ever experienced. Her breasts, swollen and aching, strained against the silken garment. Watching herself in the immense overhead mirror, she felt a stranger that was herself caressing her body. Waves of delicious heat spread outward from her belly and darted like tiny bolts of lightning thru her loins and thighs. She quivered.

Her free hand slipped beneath the silk. Her long fingers immediately encountered the swollen lips of her vulva. Her sex had already fully blossomed and the silk was sticky with her fever. She stroked the slippery inner lips of her sex, gently squeezing them then drawing them back and forth, brushing against the hood the covered her clitoris. More bolts of unbelievable bolts of pleasure tore thru her entire body. In the heat of her lust she began to fondle the crystal phallus as if it belonged to a living man. She kissed it, letting her lips slide over its shimmering surface. It felt wonderful in her mouth, it's texture like nothing she had ever known before. There was an inexplicable warmth that emanated from its crystal surface. She could almost feel it throbbing against her wandering tongue.

Two fingers were now greedily plunging into the opening of her sex. She was losing control, gone half wild with mindless lust. Taking the fingers from her sex and the phallus from her mouth, she drew it nearer to the center of her need. Placing it against the mouth of her sex, she closed her eyes, reveling in the sweet warmth of the phallus pressing against her flesh. It seemed for a moment as if a man really was there, hovering above her, patiently waiting to deliver the killing thrust, to consummate his sweet victory.

At last it came! She cried out in her utter delight, thanking all the gods she knew! Real tears of joy and gratitude streamed down her cheeks. Slowly, she slid the crystal phallus deeper inside her. Waves of joy and power surged into her loins. She shuddered, tossing her golden haired head back and forth like a lioness in heat. Finally, the crystal balls rested firmly against the crack of her ass. Unbelievable energies were spreading thru her loins, coursing through the length of the crystal rod. A thousand fiery tongues of lambent energy were devouring her from within. She was dying and being reborn all at once. She moaned and squirmed.

Her glory came. Her legs rose into the air in a final spasm. Her breasts heaved as her breath came in startled gasps. Her heart stopped. Time ceased. She went out into the universe. She knew in that moment she had become a complete incarnation of the goddess, the image of every satiated woman that had ever been or ever would be. There was no future. There was no past. She was where she wanted to be, when she wanted to be, who she wanted to be. She had arrived at the truth of her own womanhood and the glory of her own being. She was an angel, a goddess, a god's dream of ecstasy. She was the miracle of love and life, and at last she had found her fulfillment.

II.

Deep within the subterranean bowels of Amurkhan, far from the exotic games and intrigues of Elyse and the royal court yet inextricably entwined with them, Shaikul, the much dreaded sorceress of the Black Moon, abided, sitting on a throne made from the bones of long dead kings.

She was the terror of the people, a malignant spider who wove webs of power and deceit in every corner of the kingdom, and whose only amusement was the snaring and devouring of her prey. Her spies were everywhere, and it was well known that she could transform herself at will to any living form, so that none knew when she might be near. She had long ago allied herself with the powerful Lemurian gods, the Elohim, and this elder sorcery kept her form and face fair and young and beautiful, though the years had been long and would not have been kind to her malignant spirit.

She sat in silence now on her awful throne. Her eyes were closed, but the half human guards that waited upon her knew well that she did not sleep. Her spirit had left her body and was wandering free. In this manner she became aware of every aspect of reality, even those things to which mortal senses are blind. She held converse with the vaporous, shadowy beings that roam the outer dark, and from them she learned secrets beyond the ken of mortal man.

When at last her eyes fluttered open once more they were filled with a fury that was awful to behold. So terrible was her countenance that her servants dared not look upon her directly. Death was in her eyes.

"Summon the Skulkers!" she commanded.

The twisted men departed swiftly to do her bidding, relieved even for a short time to be free of the shadow of Shaikul's presence. But even their dim minds recognized how long it had been since the witch-queen had called for the Skulkers. There was little doubt that dire magic, sorcery of utter terror and calamity was being planned. They laughed with glee.

Unlike her demonic minions, the Skulkers weren't dominated by Shaikul's will. They did her bidding for enigmatic reasons of their own. Because of this, they were unpredictable and couldn't always be trusted. No one was really sure if they were aught but mindless beasts. In truth few had ever seen their faces and lived to tell of it. All that was known of them for certain was the tales of their horrors.

The Skulkers inhabited the darkest catacombs beneath Shaikul's abysmal dungeons. What grisly food they found to sustain themselves there few dared to guess, but it was well known that many of the sorceress' prisoners from her dungeons vanished from time to time, though none were ever known to escape.

Four Skulkers answered Shaikul's summons. The demon warriors crept back as they approached. Even beings as foul as they were fearful of the taint of the Skulkers. Some said it was because they recognized what they would ultimately become.

The flesh of these creatures was gray and mottled and horribly scarred by open sores and rotting abscesses. They wore no clothing. Insects buzzed about their heads and crawled across their flesh. A sickly odor pervaded the chamber, the stench of disease.

They shambled forth on appendages that could not truly be called legs. They appeared to be more akin to tentacles than limbs. Their bodies were shapeless, quivering masses of rotting flesh. Their faces, if such they could be called, were like those of ancient, disfigured dolls, save for the great, slavering maws filled with razor-like, crimson-stained teeth. But their most terrible aspect was their eyes. They were the eyes of utter lunacy and despair, black and bulging and glittering with emotions no sane being had ever experienced.

In a manner that no man may describe, Shaikul was able to transmit her will to the Skulkers until they fully understood what she wanted them to do. The arts of her sorcery made her thoughts clear, imprinting them upon their feeble minds as if they were their own. They departed, shambling into the darkness from which they had come. No one was sorry to see them go.

The dark sorceress sat in silence. Her minions did not dare intrude upon the thoughts that passed thru her mind. Shaikul's shadowy webs of magic extended far beyond the borders of the kingdom of Amurkhan. She manipulated kings, queens, and princes as though they were toys created for her amusement. And yet few of them even knew of her existence, and fewer still knew the true extent of her power. Those few who knew the true meaning of her games and the real reasons she played them rarely stayed alive for long. Some there were who could justly attest to the compulsion of her darkly tainted sexual magic, for many there were who had fallen prey to its evil influence. She used the power of her body as but another tool to further her arcane ends and the ends of her masters, the Lemurians. It was known that she had a voracious sexual appetite, and anyone gazing upon her would swiftly realize little difficulty she had enticing men or women into such dangerous liaisons.

Her flesh was as pale as the moon, and her hair, like a raven's wing, (black as her heart, so the tales say), and flowed as an ebony waterfall across the velvet expanse of her body. Her eyes were also black as starless midnight, It is said that a man might stare too long into those eyes find himself in a dream and fall into their depths forever. Her face had a sharp elfin cast that only served to increase the hypnotic splendor of her beauty. The black silken dress she wore clung to her body in an almost obscene manner, accentuating her curves in ways that had literally stolen men's breaths away. Any man that lost his heart to her also lost his soul. Her sorcery began to consume him from within until he was but a mindless husk, ready and willing to do her every bidding. These empty puppets became the armies of her minions. Most had long since forgotten their love for the sorceress, but they still remembered their fear. And it was by fear that she controlled them.

She clapped her hands twice. Two men entered, each wearing nothing except black leather hoods that fitted tightly over each of their heads. Only their eyes were completely free. Their mouths were covered with zipper-like apparatus which could be released only at the will of their mistress.

Shaikul reclined on her divan, spreading her long slender legs. She let the two slaves gaze upon the delights she revealed, for she never wore under-garments. She called the first man forward and released the zipper from his mouth, directing him down to her naked pubis, which already gleamed wetly in the candle light. She called a second man forward, taking his manhood in the heat of her palm as soon as he neared. His cock slowly rose in her grasp even as she watched. He had seemed at first of somewhat average size, but with each pulse of his heart, he grew larger and harder until it had attained what can only be described as impressively ample proportions.

She could stand it no longer. Her tongue snaked out, rolling wetly across the underside of the huge rod. Her lips opened wide to receive it, but she found she could only fit a portion of it in her mouth, no matter how hard she tried. His juices ran freely from the tiny slit at the top of his knob. She sipped the heady flavor of his maleness.

The first warrior now began to lick the tiny puckered hole of her bottom. She squirmed in his grasp. His tongue became more insistent, actually probing her anus several inches. As she responded more wildly to this lewd intrusion, he began to plunge the full length of his tongue inside her.

Apparently tiring of this game at last, the warrior positioned his sex, which though considerable, was far less formidable than the monster that throbbed in her mouth, against the tiny opening of her forbidden hole. Slowly, he forced his way inside her. Shaikul grunted with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

Soon the warrior was plunging into her bottom with the fury of a sail in a hurricane. The chamber resounded with the violence of their flesh colliding. Shaikul screamed, overcome by the fury of her own storm. The cock in her mouth exploded, hurling its warm balm into the depths of her throat.

For that one shining moment, she forgot her plots and manipulations. She forgot the crystal phallus and the beauteous vixen that now possessed it. For that one single fleeting instant, she needed nothing else, not even conscious thought. But the moment swiftly passed. From the heights of glorious lust she fell once more to the shattering rocks of grim reality which ever waited for her below. She pulled herself free from the warrior who was still ravaging her behind. She looked on him with disgust. She clapped her hands once.

Four massive warriors bearing heavy axes entered the chamber. Shaikul made a silent gesture.

Her two lovers died without a sound. All was silent once more in the ancient catacombs beneath the city of Amurkhan.

III.

Elyse had been enchanted. She knew this to be true. Without doubt, she had been enraptured by the power of a sorcery as wondrous as it was mysterious. Why else would she now utilize hidden passages in order to depart the castle unseen in the middle of the night? Why else should she dance alone beneath the circle of the moon, her naked body a glimmer in the darkness as she drifted further, ever further away from the safety of her palace home?

In truth, she wouldn't have cared if she were under an enchantment or not. She was in ecstasy. Each moment was a delirium of joy, and each moment was eternal. She had become a goddess.

The phallus still burned deep within her body and every step and movement brought waves of almost unbearable pleasure until at times she felt on the verge of collapsing into the soft grass, moaning with delight as she writhed wantonly upon the sward. But some secret need, some untold desire compelled her on with an urge that was almost beyond the realms of sexual. She might have called it if love she was able to find words at all. She had long since slipped past the level of verbal communication. Her soul had found its expression now in purest unadulterated emotion.

She peered ahead thru the gloom. Wisps of fog drifted down across the gently sloping hillsides. Stone spires towered amongst the stars. To Elyse, they looked like immense cocks stabbing blindly into the night sky. She vaguely knew that she had somehow wandered into the ancient ruins that dotted the hills and valleys east of the palace. She hadn't realized how quickly she had come so far.

She danced on. The sensations inside her grew stronger with each step she took. Thick mists rose about her. Cool droplets of water beaded on her naked flesh.

Suddenly she stopped. Some inner sense told her that she had reached her objective, yet there was nothing there to be seen. Then she looked down. Embedded in the ground were four very smooth rectangular stones. Their colors reminded Elyse of the sea, streaks of coral and pearl. The stones were set in the pattern of a cross. Elyse remembered having seen this symbol many times before, in the temple of the goddess Ahura, which she had visited often in her youth so that she might be granted the favors of sacred womanhood.

Compelled by an urge impossible to deny, she lay down and found to her surprise that each limb of the sacred cross corresponded to one of her own. The material didn't feel like stone at all. It was soft and warm against her, like living flesh.

Closing her eyes, she waited.

She might have been there moments, or perhaps hours, maybe even days or years. Time as a standard became meaningless. The crystal phallus throbbed deeply within her. The sacred cross enfolded her like a living womb. She drifted in and out of the thin boundaries of sleep many times. Perhaps she even dreamed. At times she thought she could feel the weight of a lover's body pressed against her belly and breasts. Sometimes a soft breeze would blow and she could almost swear it was the breath of her phantom lover caressing her throat in the heat of his passion.

Above her head, shafts of silver moonlight broke through the lacing of the fog. White spectral forms of light played about the fields of her body like drifting ghosts, slipping swiftly past the valley between her thighs, lingering in illusive patches on the soft curves of her breasts.

"I can be yours completely and wholly, if such is your wish."

The voice startled her out of her half sleep. Was she being spied upon? Who could have followed her here so swiftly?

"I am already one with you," said the voice, "As surely you can perceive." Elyse felt the crystal phallus throb within her. A wave of overwhelming ecstasy overcame her body, cascading in waves thru her loins and thighs.

"Nay," said the voice in a reassuring tone. "Fear not. You have not gone mad! For the moment, perceive me as a spirit if you will; the spirit that inhabits the crystal phallus. Seek not to know my purposes, for they are far beyond the fathoming of your mortal mind. Suffice to say that if you will but lend me the use of your human form for a time, I will give you the power to accomplish anything you may desire."

Elyse was wary. She had heard of demons making such offers as this. Yet the feel of the phallus burning within her urged her to throw caution to the winds. She needed the phallus. She needed what it could give her. She no longer cared if she lived or died. She only wanted the phallus. She only wanted its wonderful power to fill her once more, to send her soaring over that illusive edge of delirious oblivion for which she so yearned.

"And what might it be that I desire?" she inquired huskily, barely holding the heat of her lust in check. Her body shook from the intensity of sensations produced by the phallus as it burned inside her.

"Only you might say," replied the voice. "It is I who will be compelled to obey. But first you must help me regain the rest of my body."

"Ah," said Elyse dreamily. "I knew there would be a catch."

"It is not a displeasing body," said the voice, "As you might guess, given the part of me you are experiencing right now."

Again she felt the delicious electric throb of the phallus inside her. She could hardly contain herself. Her body writhed in an ecstatic dance.

"I can give you more, much more, as a whole being."

"You've convinced me," gasped Elyse. "Tomorrow, I'll mount an expedition to seek your lost body. But for tonight, I would sample a further taste of the pleasures you promise me."

She was only just beginning to lose herself in the delicious throes of her second orgasm when the Skulkers found her.

They came thru the walls crawled over her like huge insects. Their malformed bodies were cold and they stank of the rot of the grave. She gagged, writhing in the grasp of a half dozen stone-like talons. A huge fist crashed against the side of her head.

Darkness.

IV.

The witch queen glared down at her helpless captive.

"Sweet Elyse, you have been very troublesome to me," she whispered. In the past, your petty intrigues and outrageous affairs have served to amuse me. But this night it has been your misfortune to become involved in something far beyond your meager ability to comprehend."

Elyse cowered, avoiding the ebon eyes of her tormentor. Though they had never met, she knew this woman could only be the dark sorceress Shaikul, she whose name was spoken in fearful whispers in the shadowed alleys of Amurkhan. But what interest could Shaikul have in her?

Desperately, she peered about her. She was obviously in a dungeon secreted far below the city. Sputtering, oily torches hung in blackened bronze stanchions on walls of rough hewn limestone. There was an odor of decay and mold in the dank air. She had been bound, face down, her naked ass thrust lewdly into the air like a bitch in heat. Never before had she felt so exposed and degraded.

A lean, craggy-faced man, whose skeletal body was wrapped nearly head to toe in a long, winding bandage of white linen appeared at Shaikul's side, bowing low. Elyse's heart screamed. A Death Doctor! Was she to be tortured before she died?

"We are unable to remove it," the Death Doctor spoke. His voice was the icy void of the tomb. "Unless you approve surgery."

"Nay," said Shaikul. There was a hint of a malicious smile on her cruel beautiful lips. "I have a better idea. Summon Gorth!"

"Listen well, Elyse," whispered the witch queen, caressing her throat and then viciously tugging at her hair as her lips touched her ear. "You have not yet incurred my wrath, though you have been very tiresome indeed. You have inside you a totem which I highly value. And you, silly little whore, have not the least conception of the magnitude of the power of that thing which now probes that most intimate part of your body! Unfortunately the crystal phallus has for some reason acquired a taste for your cunt which nearly as strong as your desire for strange cock. Until one of you relinquishes their desire for the other, no power that I possess can separate you."