The Order Ch. 04

"My sisters," Brigit said, arm still raised. "I come before you chastised." She bowed her head. "Last evening I let anger rule me. An evil has been visited upon us in the form of a man. I saw that man not as a test of our faith, but as a personal affront. In my anger I allowed that evil to touch more of us."

"You mean burn more of us!" The cry went out from within the assembly, followed by a rustling of assent.

The Queen's head snapped up. For a moment Colm thought she might lash out. Instead, Brigit raised her hand again for calm.

"Yes. Yes, let us call it for what it is."

As Brigit spoke, a rank of Priestesses gathered behind her. Among them Colm spotted Cairin, her expression dark.

"This is my error and I alone bear the burden of righting it." Brigit strode forward, confronting the crowd directly. She paced as she spoke, giving any who had pressed close the chance to see her resolve. Her beauty shone, even in the irregular light of the fires. "The beast has fangs," she said. "Too many times has he used them upon us!" She spun again. "But we are stronger than beasts, and wiser. Tonight I will show you both!"

On cue, the Priestesses guarding Colm hustled him toward the altar. Through the crowd they dragged him, stumbling, over the loose rock of the defile. There were none of the Broken present, he noted. The site must be sacred.

Upon reaching the altar, Colm was gripped by the restraining spell he regrettably had become so familiar with. While bound, a Princess approached him, wielding a knife. Panic surged in Colm, but the Princess, a willowy brunette, only cut free first his bonds, then his clothes, her smirk fading at the sight of Colm's organ. Her hand brushed it before she stepped back.

Brigit eyed him cooly. The playfulness and overt superiority of the previous night was not on display, but neither had her arrogance faded. The Queen's gaze lingered on Colm's scar, then at the ring snug on his organ. Dismissively, she turned back to face the crowd.

"The Lady has guided him to us that we may take back what is ours, this perversion of Her magic that he shamefully possesses."

A few Adepts nodded in assent, but as many remained still. The anger still simmering after the previous night's failed ceremony would not be tamed only with words. The Queen understood.

"Rise!"

The binding spell yanked at Colm, lifting him from the ground. Looking down helplessly, he rose above the assembly, fighting against vertigo. Within the passing of no more than five heartbeats he hung over the altar, perhaps ten feet off the ground. The gathered Adepts and Priestesses gasped in astonishment.

The Queen smiled toward the assembly, spreading her hands in an expansive gesture. If her beauty had not guided her to the Order, thought Colm, Brigit would have done well as the leader of a minstrel company.

"Now, if you will Sisters, join me in the chant."

Several Princesses stepped forward to guide the crowd. A chant began, tentatively at first, then swelling. Colm found it more unsettling than the previous night's simple, predictable chant. It was discordant in some way that he couldn't place. He tried to ignore it.

Colm considered the ridiculous circumstances. Naked and bound by invisible chains, he was suspended in the air over an assembly of beautiful women, dressed in robes. Most of them, one in particular, wished him dead. On his cock was a magic ring which might or might not protect him. He was hungry.

From his elevated position, he could easily see the back of the assembly. Fyne, Grady, and Killian were visible, under close guard. They were at the very back, next to what appeared to be stacked cases of wine. Their Queen, it seemed, would later throw herself a party, celebrating her victory over the great evil.

Brigit turned to him, tilting her head skyward. Her smile, even in malice, was beautiful. Full, soft lips with a slight swell, high cheekbones, and large, bright eyes. From outstretched wrists, tendrils of smoke reached toward him. Colm braced himself for pain but when the smoke reached him, its kiss was cool. Tendrils reached to his cock, circled the ring, and surrounded it. Down his soft cock, to his sack, then returning to the ring, the tendrils sought and explored every inch of his manhood. It was as if a feather brushed him.

The Queen's face tightened with concentration. Brow knitted, she called forth another wave of the tendrils for him. Colm thought he felt something stirring within him. The ring pulsed, squeezing him before easing. As more tendrils sought him, the pulsing became more pronounced. Though not painful, the tightening and releasing was disconcerting. Even after less than a week of being bound to the ring, it had become like a part of him.

Finally, with a near snarl, Brigit sent forth a barrage. Like a thousand light touches, the tendrils swirled, circled, and caressed his cock, his sack, and the ring. His organ stirred. The ring contracted. It was Colm's turn to knit his brow. The ring contracted further. Just before the pain became too much to bear, the ring yielded. Going limp, it dropped from Colm's cock to the dark altar below.

Crowing in triumph, the Queen snatched up the ring and held it aloft. Firelight bounced weakly from the soft metal. The chant weakened, replaced by an audible gasp. The assembly stood in shock.

"Where are your fangs now?" Brigit was panting with exhaustion. Her bracelets, which had glowed warmly during her exertions, now were dim. "Lower him," she commanded.

Colm slid back, flopping onto the altar. The Princesses stumbled away, themselves clearly spent by the effort of having kept him aloft. One collapsed and had to be helped away. The others staggered to a bench where they slumped over. Brigit's showmanship had a price.

Parted from the ring, Colm faced a dismal prospect. It was clear he would be taken now, used as an unwilling partner yet again. Except this time, when finally he yielded to ecstasy, there would be no protection. His strength would be drained, his wits scrambled. He was doomed.

To one side of the assembly, close in, several Adepts sat on stools. Colm recognized Feather, Mora, and Phaedra. They sat erect, but with distant stares. He wondered if they would ever recover, or if like the Broken, theirs was a permanent condition. Cairin stood nearby. Curiously, he saw no sign of Darcy and Bria, the pair that he had encountered at the matriarch's residence.

Brigit soaked up the attention of the crowd for a moment longer before again calming them with a gesture. This time the crowd settled down swiftly. She was winning them back.

"My sisters," she began. "Together, we have reclaimed what is ours. No more will the hands of men pervert the will of the Lady!" The assembly voiced their assent. "And now, on this most sacred site, once again we offer a sacrifice in Her name."

Colm was bound to the altar. The chill of the cold stone was a shock, shooting even into his sack, which rested heavily against the smooth black surface. His organ, already shy, contracted further.

"Last evening," Brigit continued, "I made a serious error. Thinking our faith alone would offer protection, I sent one of our sweetest, most beloved Adepts into danger. I alone must bear that burden, live with the shame." She paused, as if nearly overcome. "Today I make amends. I will drain the man responsible, taking his power for the Lady. But first, I invite each of you to join in his subjugation. Give him a taste of the forbidden. After, I will drain him."

Two Adepts stepped forward immediately. Once again, Colm got the impression that he was merely playing a role in a highly choreographed performance. Brigit approached, lifting Colm's shy cock. Obediently, the first Adept knelt. Colm felt the press of a wet tongue against his sack. A flash of unexpected pleasure shot through him. Her tongue flicked against his balls, circling one then the other. She pulled back.

The other Adept knelt. Almost before he could register the departure of the first mouth on his balls, another took its place, a probing tongue exploring his sack. After too short a time, the second one pulled back as well.

Still holding his cock, Brigit raised her eyes to the assembly. "Who else will join in the taking of this man, this affront to the Lady?"

If the beleaguered Queen had asked the question as few as twenty minutes earlier, Colm doubted anyone would have stepped forward. Now, a scraping of feet on the loose rock announced that at least a few were ready to take part. In no time, he felt the press of a curious tongue on his sack once more, then suction as soft lips drew in one fat ball. His cock stirred.

Even before his ball had been wetly released Colm felt another tongue on his cock. Sliding upward, it circled the full but still soft head, drew it briefly into a curious mouth, then slipped away. Another took its place. Encouraged by Brigit, more and more of the Adepts stepped forward waiting for their turn. He could no longer tell when one mouth finished licking him and another took its place. At times it seemed there were three, one Adept finding her way in just before one of her sisters departed. Colm's organ and sack were a blissful confusion of wetness, lips, and tongues.

Colm opened his eyes, and immediately regretted it. Two blondes tongued his sack. One, a fresh-faced young woman of no more than twenty licked a ball from bottom to top, slowly and repeatedly. Her friend had drawn his other ball into her warm, soft mouth. Blonde curls spilled across Colm's thigh, teasing him. Both kept their eyes locked on his. A moan escaped his lips, uninvited.

"Yes," said Brigit sweetly. "Gaze upon the beauty of the Order, beauty you do not deserve. My sisters, caress his sack gently. Here is the heart of his essence."

A few more of his carnal visitors tentatively slipped their mouths over his cock. Most made little progress or moved on quickly, but one lingered. Staring through slitted eyes, Colm made out a tangle of auburn hair pulled back just far enough to frame a ripe mouth. Lips slid over his cock sweetly, withdrew, then slid forward again. It was blissful.

Gently, Brigit urged away those who lingered too long at pleasuring him, to allow those waiting to have their chance, and no doubt to prevent some particularly skilled Adept from taking Colm over the edge. The evening slid by, Colm bound both by chains and the fog of ecstasy that settled over him. How long had he lain thus? Ten minutes? Twenty? How many tongues had danced wetly across his organ? He was achingly hard and, despite Brigit's monitoring, ever closer to orgasm.

At last the progression eased. Two tongues were on him, then just one. His final visitor departed with a lingering lick of his cock. The altar was slick with the saliva of scores of women.

"And what of you?"

Colm again opened his eyes. A small circle of women remained near, among them Cairin. It was she whom Brigit addressed. "Will you give our trespasser a goodbye kiss?"

The Princess gave no sign of having forgiven Brigit. Cairin met the Queen's gaze, her expression stony.

"Well then," Brigit said, "accept this gift." With that, the Queen pulled forth the ring she had taken from Colm's cock. She pressed it into Cairin's hand before turning back to the crowd. The Princess was left to regard the ring, fury written on her face.

"It is time!" Brigit called out.

What happened next was a reflection of the previous evening. Abandoning the altar, Brigit walked regally through the assembly. Upon gaining the back of the crowd she turned once more. Arms extended, the Queen made her way forward as the crowd pressed in. Colm raised his head to see.

As they had with Feather, the gathered Adepts clutched at her robe, tugging the somber garment from her body. Brigit stood naked, her pale skin gleaming. Colm took in a breath. High, full breasts bounced as Queen started forward. She practically slunk, toned legs easily navigating the loose rock. Brigit's hips snapped left and right, flashing her trimmed, ginger bush. Her torso was firm, with just a hint of womanly softness, curves. She was incredible, thought Colm.

Hands reached out, slipping across Brigit's skin. Trailing fingers found wrists, hips, thighs, and nipples. Blissfully, Brigit's eyes fluttered shut, trusting her sisters to guide her. Her lips parted slightly. Pressing close now, the crowd sought her more insistently. She was kissed, groped, and fondled. Tongues found her mouth and breasts. Fingers sought her slit. Slowing still more, the Queen passed through the last of the crowd, a long, low moan escaping her. She reached the altar.

"Mmmmmm," Brigit groaned, opening her eyes. She spotted Colm. "I do believe we have a date."

For the hundredth time, Colm fruitlessly tested his bonds. A detached sense of fatalism settled upon him. He almost laughed. Few men he thought, if given the choice of how they would die, would turn down sex with a woman as desirable as the Queen.

In a practiced, athletic move, Brigit vaulted atop him. His cock had softened considerably since the Adepts had pleasured him, but after a Princess produced the now familiar silver potion Colm's organ once again sprang to life.

"I want to tell you," the Queen began, "you're a big boy." She slid herself along him languorously. "You would have made a good pleasure slave for the matriarchs." Again she slid, this time teasing the head of his cock with her opening. Colm could feel her slickness, her lips parting for him. "But, I'm afraid we in the Order have bigger appetites." With a sudden plunge, she impaled herself on him.

"Aaaaaaaah," she gasped, part in surprise, part in pain. Brigit, though not as snug as Feather, still was unprepared for the stretching Colm's straining cock gave her. "Oh fuck!" she groaned. The Princesses within earshot crowded forward. Sagging against Colm, Brigit waved them off.

"It's... it's... oh," Brigit muttered. She raised herself. "The Lady tested me is all."

To Colm, the Queen's slick gash was dangerously sweet. Accommodating him, but still deliciously snug, they were a perfect match. As she recovered, Brigit began tentatively to ride him. She gradually relaxed.

"Unh," she groaned. "Fuck, you're thick." These words were intended for Colm's ears only. "How do I feel?"

Colm said nothing, but inside he scrambled for an escape. Clearly, this was a woman with a need for validation. Exactly how to take advantage eluded him.

Brigit accelerated her pace, first grinding against then pumping his cock from above, her ass slapping against his thighs. Her full breasts bounced enticingly, while her soft but athletic body used him. The Adepts earlier had brought Colm to the brink of release with their mouths. The young man had softened during Brigit's parade through the crowd, but now her assault on his cock once again threatened him. Wild scarlet tresses tossed in the firelight. He was desperate.

Seeming to sense his distress, Brigit leaned close. "Oh, sorry man, why do you fight it?" Again and again she buried his turgid cock in her slippery depths. The Queen winced, but continued. Leaning forward further, she pressed her soft, full breasts against his chest. Impulsively, she kissed him. "Cum with me," she whispered. "It's time to settle your debt with The Order."

From the corner of his eye Colm caught a glimpse of Cairin, still glaring at Brigit.

"You're afraid," Colm gasped. A plan had come to him.

Smiling, Brigit slowed for a moment. A fleeting respite. "Oh?" she asked. "Am I?"

"Yes," he continued. "With all of your magic, your sisters, your rituals, still you fear me."

Confusion flashed across the Queen's face, as quickly disappearing. "Me?" She laughed, high and light, throwing her head back. "I don't fear a wretch such as you, a mere man with his stolen magic taken from him. You're no more than an insect. I am the Queen of the Order!"

"Then unchain me," he said. Colm looked toward the assembly. "If you were their Queen you wouldn't fear me," he said, raising his voice. "You would trust to your strength, and that of your sisters."

"Yes," came a voice from the assembly. Whether mocking or sincere, Colm couldn't tell. "Let us show him our strength. Tame him with your beauty!"

Clearly vexed, Brigit nonetheless was nervous. She snuck a glance toward the assembly. No doubt her failure of the previous evening still weighed upon her, upon her sisters. To show weakness here would again cast her leadership into question.

"Unchain me," Colm repeated. "Let me show you the power of a man. Tame me if you can."

Anger crossed Brigit's face, briefly snarling her features. "Men have no power," she said haughtily. "Your friends are watching. They shall bear witness to your folly." She rolled off of him, leaving his cock to rest against his belly. "Unchain the fool!"

Two of the Princesses who earlier had bound him stepped forward. In an instant they had released his bonds. Colm sat up gingerly, rubbing his wrists. He caught his breath. Any respite from the relentless assault of the Queen was welcome.

Brigit lounged back atop the altar, her skin eerily pale against the stone. The surface was as black as the column that rose up behind it, darker even than the deepest shadows cast by the fires. There was some connection. As Colm regarded it, wisps of dim color from within the stone seemed to press close to the surface before receding. The thing was alive.

"Well," said the Queen, feigning boredom. "Aren't you supposed to be showing us why we should fear you?" She parted her legs.

Not for the first time, Colm considered flight. With none of the Broken within sight, the priestesses were on their own. How far did their spells reach? A good sprint might get him out of range, especially with the nearest of the Princesses evidently fatigued. Just as quickly he abandoned the idea. Naked and shoeless he could at best stumble across the loose stone of the amphitheater. He didn't know the terrain. Half a hundred Adepts would take up the chase. He sighed.

At least he could take her on his terms. Brigit lay back invitingly, clearly expecting Colm to join her atop the altar. Instead, he gripped the redhead by the thigh and tugged her to the edge of the stone. Standing, he took her.

"Owwww," Brigit gasped, surprised either by Colm's manhandling, or the force of his thrust. His taut belly slapped against the Queen's raised thigh. Again he thrust hard, holding her in place firmly.

Two of the Princesses approached, worried for their Queen. Brigit met their eyes with a bewildered look before rallying. Again she waved them away.

Colm drove forward. The Queen no doubt had taken many men, but had she ever let one take her? She had danced over chained victims, reveling in her power, but had she ever given herself up to a man purely for pleasure? From her reaction, Colm guessed she had not. Again he slammed his cock home, watching as the woman's breasts jiggled enticingly. Her lips parted.

"Unhhh," she gasped. Brigit's expression was one of surprise. For the moment at least, she was no longer the Queen of the Order, she was a woman surrendering to pleasure.

Brigit lay on her back. Colm, standing beside the altar, raised one of the redhead's legs, holding it tightly to his chest. Holding her thusly, the young man took her deep, but controlled the pace. He reached for her clit.

'Yeah," he grunted. "Give yourself to me. Give yourself to a man unbound." Again he pierced her depths.

"Ooooh," Brigit moaned. With an unbelieving expression, her eyes flicked from Colm to his cock.

Hoping it would go unnoticed, Colm slowed his strokes. Pumping Brigit's slick pussy at this rate would send him over the edge all too soon. He needed time to think.

"No matter," Brigit panted. "Bound or unbound, I'll take your strength. When I feel the Lady's kiss you'll be broken. Forgotten."