The Temple Thief

Three drinks in, he was beginning to feel the effects. The room was hazier, his motions slower. Albrecht was red in the cheeks, but otherwise no worse for the wear. Anelesse had her hand down his hose and Bromm could see she was stroking his cock. Tarilla had seated herself behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest.

"I tell you Bromm," Albrecht said as he set down the empty wine bottle, "You must hurry up and get rich soon, for there is no life like it. I earn a king's ransom each month and then spend half of it here, with new girls every time. My favorite thing to do is to fuck one of them while I suck another's tits. Here, let me show you."

He ushered Tarilla up onto her hands and knees on the couch and removed his hose. Anelesse stood next to the couch with her breasts level with Albrecht's mouth. Albrecht spread Tarilla's legs and slid his cock inside her. Bromm sat mutely and stared into her eyes as they rolled back into her head. Albrecht thrust into her twice, grunting with the exertion. Tarilla giggled in delight and raised one delicate finger to her lips. She bit down on it as Albrecht continued to fuck her. She gave him a teasing look around her finger.             

Albrecht lowered his mouth to Anelesse's breasts and began to kiss and suckle them. Her little pink nipples rose up from her white breasts and she took his head in her hands. She kissed his scalp and ran her hands along his neck. Bromm clenched his jaw as his cock hardened, straining against his breeches as it did. Tarilla rose up on her knees, giving Bromm a look at her small breasts as her long black hair fell away.

A serving man appeared at the couch's edge, equally as nude as the girl before and carrying a tray of sliced fruit. Bromm was surprised, for he had not seen Albrecht or either of the girls signal for him.

"Eat, my friend!" Albrecht encouraged, his hips thrusting into Tarilla with such force that her whole body shook. "You must be hungry."

Bromm was, but not only for the fruit. He looked into Tarilla's eyes as he took a piece of sliced melon from the tray. He ached to reach out and grab a hold of her, but she was not his whore. Albrecht was a generous man, but with each gift he had called out to Bromm. There had been no word of whether Bromm was allowed to share the women.

Yet will I have a better chance? Bromm wondered. He had dreamed of this night for years and when Antha had denied him, he felt his whole dream fading away. But now, with Albrecht and two beautiful girls nude in front of him, perhaps his dream was nearly fruition after all. Perhaps it is the drink talking, but Apliss favors the bold, he told himself.

"I need a woman," Bromm whispered as Tarilla arched her back under Albrecht's fucking. Neither she nor Albrecht took notice of him, though Anelesse cast a brief glance his way. In the throes of ecstasy, they had not heard me, Bromm thought. He repeated himself louder and this time, Albrecht slowed his thrusting and regarded him for a moment.

"So you do," he said, then withdrew himself from Tarilla. He ushered her off the couch to stand before him and then took his own seat. "Tend to our dear friend Bromm," he commanded, "work that pretty mouth of yours."

Tarilla smiled and threw her long hair back over her shoulder before kneeling in front of Bromm. She touched his cock through his breeches, teasing it with one finger. Bromm was in no mood to be teased. He yanked his breeches down around his ankles and grasped his flopping cock in between his fingers, holding it up before Tarilla's pretty young face. She laughed and took it in her hand.

"You have a sailor's eagerness about you, boy," she giggled. Opening her mouth to reveal a long pink tongue, she gently touched it to the base of his cock and ran it up the shaft until she reached the head. There, she wrapped her lips around his cock head and swallowed the whole cock all the way to its base.

Albrecht worked his cock between both his hands as he watched Tarilla work. "I have a favor to ask of you, in exchange for this," he said. Bromm nodded, too distracted by Tarilla's mouth on his cock to think on what favor a stranger was asking.

Albrecht drew Anelesse into his lap, where she mounted his cock. He busied his mouth on her breasts again, his hands clasping her around the waist. Bromm worked his own hips, thrusting his cock into Tarilla's mouth as she sucked him. He grabbed her head and tried to hold her steady, but she pushed his hands away and steadied his hips. He could feel her tongue on every inch of his cock and the sensation was overpowering.

Bromm grabbed the edge of the couch cushion as he watched her work. Tarilla was intently focused on his cock, working both hands and her mouth on it.

"What a good little slut she is," Bromm gasped to Albrecht. "She loves the cock in her mouth like she was born to it."

Albrecht laughed in the middle of bouncing Anelesse on his own cock. "That is the Nymphflower drink at work. Few whores are eager without it."

Bromm looked at him at a loss. Albrecht continued, casually conversing as if there was not a beautiful girl riding his cock, "The Nymphflower? You've not heard of it?" Bromm shook his head, though he felt he was not at his sharpest when distracted by Tarilla's attentions.

"It is a drink made of the extract of the Nymphflower, though I suppose that much is obvious. They make it in great vats and provide it to the whores before they go to work. It makes them lustier than Nystra herself. A whore with a cup of Nymphflower in her will fuck the ugliest, fattest man in the brothel like he's her long-lost love."

Bromm felt he should be disappointed. The whore sucking his cock with great vigor was not driven by lust for him, but by some alchemist's concoction. As it was, he could not summon the will to care. He had his cock in the mouth of a beautiful girl who wanted him, whether because of looks, silver or Nymphflower. It was not all he had dreamed of, but it was enough.

He threw his head back, exulting in the delight, and his eye began to wander the room. He spied the serving wench from earlier, braced against the wall as a huge, black-furred minotaur fucked her from behind. The beast towered head, shoulders, and then some over the girl, wrapping one thick, grotesque, hand around her neck and holding her narrow waist in the other. The beast's long, thick cock slung in and out of her with great vigor, the heavy strokes of the cock causing the slender wench's frame to tremble. She had her head craned back to look into his eyes, an expression of pleading delight on her face. The coin pouch at her belt shook violently under the assault, the jingling of the coins audible from across the room, even over her moans.

At the sight of the monster, Bromm felt his breath come quickly to him, pleasure building in his cock as Tarilla stroked and sucked it. She grasped his balls in one hand and began to squeeze as she ran her tongue down his cock again. Bromm lolled his head about in an ecstatic haze.

The dancing girls had left, and so his eyes wandered to another couch where a girl lay, pale and blonde, trapped between two big orcs. She lay atop one who wrapped his thick arms around her chest, clutching her little breasts. He thrust his cock harshly into her asshole, each thrust resounding about the room with a loud clap. The other orc crouched atop her, slamming his girthy cock into her pink sex with great force. Both orcs growled in bestial lust, battering the girl under the weight of their cock thrusts. She screamed in ecstasy, pain or a mix of both until the orc atop her clapped a hand over her mouth.

Bromm wanted his cock in Tarilla. He wanted to fuck her as savagely as the orcs and the minotaur fucked their women. He turned his head to face her and tried to form the words in his mouth. But when he saw her deep brown eyes looking up at him as she slid her mouth along his cock, he was unable to control himself any longer. His cock spasmed, spraying his sticky cum all over her mouth. She withdrew her head in surprise, and as his cock flopped out, he shot a second spurt into her eye. Bromm sputtered in consternation and then his embarrassment only deepened as his cock fell to the side and spurted a third shot across the couch, where it landed on Anelesse's bare thigh even as she rode Albrecht.

She hardly seemed to notice, though Albrecht, lost in the throes of passion, slid his hand through it as he moved it along her thigh. He sneered in disgust and wiped his hand clean on her stomach. Bromm ashamedly lay back on the couch and pulled his legs up underneath him. His spent cock lay against his leg, going limp despite the spectacle around him. Tarilla wiped her face clean and climbed up onto the couch with him sit in his in lap.

Anelesse continued to ride undisturbed, and Albrecht soon return to alternating kissing her lips and her breasts. Bromm gingerly touched Tarilla's legs and she put a hand on his, guiding him high until he cupped her breast. She turned her head to kiss his chest and Bromm ran a finger through her hair.

Across the couch, Albrecht clutched at Anelesse harder as he came. Her riding slowed and his cock slid out from her, wet and sticky. Albrecht kissed her lips a final time and then each of her breasts in turn.

Anelesse dismounted and lay atop Albrecht in a mirror of Bromm and Tarilla's pose, the girls' feet touching at the middle of the couch. Albrecht stroked Anelesse's leg as he cast looks about the room. The orcs had finished and departed, leaving their poor girl to stagger from the room to the baths. The minotaur had continued his savage fucking until the serving wench had collapsed, so he now held her up in both hands while he thrust into her. Others had come in and out of the room while the four of them lay on the couches. Bromm was treated to many erotic sights in the salon, for the brothel had no shortage of either customers or whores with which to please them.

"I have a favor to ask of you, my new friend," Albrecht said after a time, lifting one hand from Anelesse's leg. "In exchange for all the delights I have given you, I have a job for you. Come with me," he pushed Anelesse off of him and bid Bromm to follow him. They walked mostly naked into the hall that led to the garden.

Bromm passed a tall, burly, sailor, stripped to the waist and with his breeches undone, carrying a girl over his shoulder. She was naked, with pale skin that reflected the brothel's lamplight and hair dyed bright red. She met Bromm's lustful gaze as they passed and made a pouty face. He felt his cock grow hard again as he watched her pale round ass disappear through one of the salon doors.

Once in the garden, with the cool night breeze on their skin, Bromm felt his desire tempered. Albrecht ushered him past other guests in the garden and into a secluded corner.

"As I said before," Albrecht began, "I am a dealer in fine objects. On occasion, I also procure such objects for my interested customers."

Bromm could already tell where this was leading. "I think you have me confused with someone else, I'm a sailor, not a thief."

"Nonsense," Albrecht waved his hand dismissively, "I think you have the skills I am looking for. This job likely involves a bit of climbing, and you're a sailor. All that time spent in the rigging has prepared you for this."

"I've never stolen anything that I couldn't eat or drink," Bromm protested, "If you're looking for me to steal some jewels for you, I am not your man."

"You have nothing to worry about. I am willing to pay handsomely. Enough for you to spend more nights here, in the company of women such as these. It is a simple job, I just need someone brave enough to do it."

"How much are you offering exactly?" Bromm asked, feeling his good judgment slip away.

"Five pounds of silver," Albrecht replied. Bromm had to consider for a moment. A year and a half's wages was not an inconsiderable amount, but he was no thief. Though he was not a sailor anymore, so perhaps it was time for a new profession.

"What is it you need stolen?" he asked cautiously.

"There is an idol, of the goddess Nystra. It is about so high, made of ivory and painted in the way the gods' idols are. A friend of mine saw it in the Temple when he was at a ritual orgy and has desired it ever since. If you can retrieve it for me, I will pay you five pounds of silver."

Bromm considered for a moment. Stealing from the house of a god was a dangerous business. But the money was tantalizing. He had tasted the life that men like Albrecht lived and he craved more of it. With the money, women like Anelesse and Tarilla would be his to command and, in time, he might be able to afford the palace he dreamed of. And all it took was a simple act of theft.

A man passed by them, flanked by a pair of women in the nude. They were buxom, with long flowing blonde hair. Bromm thought they were twins.

"Very well," he said. "I'll do it."

Hours later, after much prowling about the temple, Bromm crouched on a rooftop across the street. From the ground, he had spied a place on the temple's blue-tiled exterior where he might leap across and find purchase on a ledge. The roof of the temple was open to allow rain to fall into its central pool, and Bromm hoped to climb down into the inner reaches of the temple and reach the altar where Albrecht said the idol was kept.

Bromm lay still on the roof, waiting for the activity to die down. Once there was no one out in the street to see him, he would make him leap. However, the night life of Torvuls was proving more resilient than he had hoped. By his own estimation, it was perhaps two hours past midnight, yet there was still regular traffic in the street below.

A light breeze drifted toward him, bringing the salty smell of the harbor along with faint music. With those in his mind, he returned his eye to studying the temple. Its walls were tall and tiled in blue, rising four stories above the street below. At each level, the wall was recessed a few feet from the outermost edge, leaving a small ledge where the priests have planted many flowering vines in planter boxes. These vines climbed their way up the sides of the temple to the roof, where all manner of beautiful plants grew in a pleasant garden. At night, the garden was lit by lanternlight so that the many-colored flowers were visible even in the dark.

Bromm had found himself a flat rooftop opposing the temple where he might gain a running start. When he was adequately convinced that the street below was empty, he took off running and leaped the gap. He struck the blue-tiled wall of the temple with enough force that he feared he might be heard from inside. His fingers grasped at the ledge, lost purchase, and tangled within the thick vines as he slid down the wall. Thorns cut and pricked his hands, but he held on.

Glancing about, he saw no movement in the street or on the temple's ledges. Slowly, he began to climb his way up the side of the temple. He lifted his head over the edge of the rooftop and peered about. The roof was deserted and so he pulled himself over the ledge to crawl onto the roof. Moving slowly and lowly across the roof, he looked down into the interior courtyard.

Four stories below, the courtyard was centered around a clear bathing pool fed by pipes that descended the blue-tiled interior walls of the temple. The pool was wide and square, and at its center was an alabaster statue of the goddess Nystra, Lady of Pleasures. She was posed in dance, one foot raised and with her long golden hair flowing behind her. Her statue was nude in the manner of gods' idols, and the priests had clothed her in only a flowing white skirt, cleverly arranged so that it appeared in motion even as the statue stood entirely still.

At the edge of the pool sat a man and a woman, clothed in the robes of Nystra's clergy, bare-legged and dipping their feet in the pool. Unaware of the spying sailor above them, they conversed cheerfully in a foreign tongue Bromm could not understand. Somewhere behind them, a harp was playing.

A second woman floated in the pool, naked and with her eyes closed and arms outstretched. She was the very image of peace, her long blonde hair drifting beneath her, dark with water. She was full-breasted and broad at the waist, well-fed but not face. She was shaven between her legs. To Bromm, whose hardening cock reminded him of his ultimate purpose in coming here, she was the very vision of beauty.

The woman opened her eyes, looking up to the stars, where Bromm's face lay silhouetted against the velvet sky. Bromm froze, suddenly recalling that thieves were known to blacken their faces and clothing for stealth in the dark and wishing that he had had the foresight to do the same. By some stroke of good fortune, she did not notice him. She only stared calmly up while floating lazily on her back in the shallow pool.

Bromm slowly retreated over the lip of the roof and waited, his heart pounding. He lay as still as he could, watching the passage of the stars overhead and waiting until the voices below died away before he dared to peer over the edge again. The pool was empty, and the courtyard deserted. He lowered himself over the edge to grasp one of the drainpipes and cautiously descended to the courtyard below, pausing every few feet to listen. The inner walls were pierced by windows that looked out from the temple's halls, and Bromm was painfully aware that he might be spotted through one of these windows at any moment. Undeterred, he continued down, picturing his eventual reward; a fat purse of silver and all the carnal delights he could buy with it.

The climb went easier than he expected and soon he reached the bottom of the pipe and dropped to the brick of the courtyard. He looked around and found the courtyard as deserted as it had sounded from up above. Following Albrecht's directions, he crept across the courtyard to the great banquet hall where the priests hosted their feasts and orgies. In the center of the hall, on an onyx pedestal, stood the idol.

It was made of ivory and clothed in silk, with tiny sapphires for its eyes. Someone had even made a pair of sandals and a jeweled ring for the statue to wear. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and Bromm could almost believe that it was in truth a woman, magically frozen and shrunk down to the size of a statuette. He cast another suspicious look around him before plucking the statue from its perch. He turned it over in his hands, admiring the life-like expression on its white face.

Juvenile curiosity overwhelmed him, and with pounding heart and throbbing cock, his disrobed the statue to inspect its intimate areas. He was not disappointed, for the statue's maker had gifted her with perfect round breasts and painted pink nipples, a plump bottom and shaven sex. Bromm ran his finger over the statue's nude body with admiration.

Putting its clothes back on it, he thrust the statuette into his belt and returned to the drainpipe. He had thought to leave by the street, but Albrecht had warned him that the temple's foyer was guarded night and day. As he grasped the pipe in his hands and prepared to climb, he felt he was being watched.

Casting frightened looks around, he saw no one. Unsettled all the same, he made quick his escape back up the walls of the temple until he dropped from the lowermost outer ledge into a deserted street.

He snatched a canvas sack from the back of a cart and stowed the stolen statuette within, safe from any prying eyes. Torvuls could be dangerous for those with enough money to steal, but not enough to hire protection. With his prize secured, he made his way back toward West Square where he had arranged to meet Albrecht.

Fatigue overwhelmed him before he made it there and, with the first rays of dawn creeping over the rooftops, he found his way into a sailors' flophouse and secured himself a bunk. He found it crowded by the most contemptible breed of sailors.