Through the Gate of the Gods Ch. 04

All characters are over the age of 18.

*****

MORE than two hundred years ago, the great god Ardell saved the city-state of Mulvadora from near certain destruction.

The god gathered eleven lesser gods to be his Companions to watch over and nurture the people of Mulvadora.

Puldell, the god of Rain.

Startra, the god of Sun.

Rozella, the god of Farming.

Newlan, the god of Knowledge.

Harstell-the god of Health.

Blazell-the god of War.

Darella-the god of Love.

Tottle-the god of Children.

Spira-the god of Joy.

Forbell-the god of Prosperity.

Sayennit-the god of Heaven.

Gods grow in power when they are worshipped. As Mulvadora thrived, the faith and devotion of the people grew stronger, and Ardell gained more and more power.

In the ultimate test of faith, the great god asked the citizens of Mulvadora to offer him twelve of their daughters each year in sacrifice.

Every year, a new group of twenty ten-year old girls are Chosen and taken to a special school, where they are carefully taught to be gentle, pleasing, graceful and obedient.

And every year, twelve of the twenty Chosen girls that have reached the age of 20 pass through the Gate.

The people of Mulvadora assume the girls go straight to Heaven.

They don't-they are taken to Vens.

In Vens dwell the mortal men who channel the power of the lesser gods, using it to do all the day to day tasks necessary to keep the people of Mulvadora happy, healthy, safe and prosperous.

The Chosen girls are the servant's reward. Three-quarters of children born in Vens are male. The girls that come through the Gate serve as dancers, entertainers, and pleasure toys, and eventually become wives and mothers.

Some of the lesser gods, like Harstell, Spira, and Tottle, recquire many servants to carry out their plans. Some, like Blazell and Puldell, have only a few.

Sayennit has no mortal servants. His focus is solely on the afterlife.

All of them, in Mulvadora and Vens, mortal or god, serve gentle, benevolent Ardell, who rewards his faithful generously.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Has that bandit group been chased away yet?"

"Yes, Mr. Corbett. They've been pushed back about twenty kilometers."

"Harstell's people have been informed?"

"Yes sir. They're working to heal the injured villagers even now."

The tall man nodded approval.

"Sir?"

Corbett gave the young servant of Blazell his attention.

"Sir, why did we just scare them off? They attacked one of our villages. Seems to me they got off easy."

Corbett pursed his lips. "You think we should have acted more aggressively?"

"Well, yeah. We can't..."

"And I bet you wonder," Corbett interrupted, "why Blazell is content to merely defend our current territory, and never seeks to expand through conquest."

"Frankly sir, yes. Mulvadora could be so much more than just a medium sized city/state. With the power of the god behind it, they could dominate the entire continent."

Corbett smirked, but not unkindly.

"How long have you worked for the god, son?"

To his credit, the youngster looked a little abashed. "Just eight months," he admitted.

"You still have all the aggressiveness of youth. Don't worry, that's a good thing. Blazell's servants need to be aggressive and ruthless-when necessary."

The young man nodded. "But?"

"I used to feel the same way. Still do, sometimes. In fact, when I first became Chief of this office, I petitioned the god to do exactly that."

"What happened?"

Corbett sighed. "I thought I made a persuasive case. I wasn't asking for conquest for the sake of conquest. I was thinking more along the lines of securing Mulvadora's borders, and eliminating her worst historical enemies."

"That seems logical."

"Maybe, but it doesn't matter. When we think that way, we're forgetting something very important."

"Sir?"

"Blazell does not act independently. He serves Ardell-and the great god is interested in peace, not war."

"Still..."

Corbett shook his head firmly. "Don't. You don't want..."

He trailed off, looking troubled.

"Don't want what?"

"I pushed it. I actually, in my arrogance, tried to argue with the god."

Corbett chuckled, but there was no humor in it.

"Blazell taught me a lesson."

His hands clenched and unclenched, and he swallowed hard.

The god gave me a taste-just a taste-of his power. It was agony. Pain like I'd never imagined. It only lasted a few seconds, but it seemed like months."

Corbett closed his eyes, and shuddered.

"Then he told me-what his power is to a mortal like me, Ardell's power is to a lesser god like him. Blazell's power is awesome. Ardell's is...unimagineable. All the Companions, combined, only possess a tiny fraction of that power."

The young servant paled.

"Blazell serves. Faithfully. Not because he has to, but because he wants to."

Corbett chuckled. "He is the warrior for a god of peace. And we serve the warrior to keep the peace."

"Yes sir."

He clapped the young man on the shoulder. "Keep your aggression, son. Just learn how to channel it."

"I will."

"Good enough. All right, I'm heading out. The newest Chosen make their debuts tonight."

The youngster sighed. "I wish I could go."

Corbett cuffed the lad's shoulder again. "Keep up the good work. You'll get your chance soon enough."

He thought again of the tiny girl he'd seen from the catwalk, and grinned.

Tonight, she would learn what it truly meant to serve one of Blazell's men!

XXXXXXXXXX

The girls were nearly ready. Dressed in their gold first night outfits, their long hair brushed, they fidgeted with nervous excitement as Mio gave them a final inspection and put the finishing touches on their makeup.

"If you see someone and feel that spark, make sure you let me or one of the other workers know. We'll make sure you get a chance to spend some time together."

"How will we know?" Lily asked.

Mio grinned widely. "Trust me. You'll know. It's like no other feeling in the world."

Ornament was pale as milk, twisting her fingers in her lap. Mio smiled gently and gave the girl a small glass.

"Drink this, sweetheart."

She had taken the girls through the club earlier, showing them the dance platforms, the couches, the corners where men-and sometimes dancers-could play games of Ring Ring or Pockets, and where the bathrooms and private rooms were.

And they met some of the workers. Most were servants of Darella or Spira, called to work at the club to watch over the Chosen girls.

Mio was a follower of Spira, and it showed in her bubbly enthusiasm. She had an infectious smile and a loud voice, quick to praise and compliment.

Ornament sipped her drink and felt herself calm down a little. It was an herbal tea mixture, and she was hardly the first girl to need it before her debut.

"Eventually," Mio told them, "there will be about seventy guests, but right now the first few are just showing up. Do what you feel like at first. If you want to dance, great. Otherwise, sit on a couch, play a game, or just walk around and talk."

She clapped her hands together again. "And smile!"

A few of the girls giggled, and Mio laughed. "That's the way!"

"Ready?"

With a few gulps and a lot of butterflies, the girls followed her through the short hallway and into the club to make their debut.

XXXXXXXXXX

There were about twenty men in the main area of the club, drinking, talking, playing games, when Heather pushed through the scarlet curtains, her gold outfit sparkling in the light of hundreds of candles and lamps.

There were a few whistles and a little playful applause as the girls entered one by one. Alma was waiting for them just inside, and gently guided each girl in a different direction. New girls tended to bunch together, she knew, and it was better for them-and the men-if they spread out.

The club was mostly reds and pinks, the dancing areas and gaming areas bright islands. Smiling, blushing, giggling nervously, the girls walked around aimlessly at first, saying hello and telling their names to men who introduced themselves with grins and compliments.

Two hulking, stone faced servants of Forbell stood at the door. Each man who entered was scrutinized. The doormen didn't need to check ID's-they knew instinctively who should be there. Every year, a few men, driven by boredom, loneliness, or curiosity, tried to sneak in when it wasn't there turn.

They were gently but firmly turned away.

Other men, servants of Darella and Spira, circulated through the club, keeping an eye on the proceedings, sensitive for that tingle that meant one of the Chosen and one of the guests should be brought together-probably just for the evening, but maybe for a lifetime.

Predictably, the biggest crowds gathered around Midnight and Magenta. Men are men everywhere-large breasts draw attention.

A band played in one corner. The noise of conversation overwhelmed the softer instruments. It was the timpanium that dominated-pounding out a steady beat that kept even the most reserved guests feet tapping.

Before long, Magenta and Midnight had mounted small, rectangular platforms, and started to dance. In a way, it was a relief. The girls felt awkward in the social situation, but they knew they could dance, and dance well.

Heather and Lily had been taken to couchs, sitting among small groups of men who tried to impress them with their charm and wit.

Flower had joined a game of Ring Ring, giggling as she tossed her little hoop. There were ten poles, each worth a different number of points, and after a little practice she was holding her own.

Ornament continued to wander, looking like a little lost waif. She smiled bravely at the men who talked to her, drank a glass of juice given to her by one of the bartenders, and drank in the scene. It was a little overwhelming, but she kept reminding herself to breathe, to relax, and enjoy the night.

She was listening to one of Newlan's men tell her about some discovery he'd made in astronomy when one of the club's workers took her by the elbow.

"Those girls are getting tired," he said, nodding over to Midnight and Magenta. "Let's get you up there so they can take a break."

She gulped, but nodded. Another of the club's men was escorting Lily to the platforms. Heather had hopped up on a table, moving her body gracefully for a small but appreciative audience.

Panting, smiling gratefully, Magenta and Midnight went to get some water. Lily whispered encouragement to her quivering Sister, and the climbed up.

Blushing cutely, Ornament had just started to dance when Corbett entered.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was a wondrous, scary adventure.

When it got too overwhelming, the girls fell back on the familiar. They danced. They walked. They remembered what they had been taught, and why they were here.

And they felt the presence and approval of the gods, watching over them as surely as the men were watching them.

Magic had been matching Chosen for years. She had a gift, and she put it to use.

It was the girl's debut night. They needed to be paired with men that would be gentle, thoughtful, calm-if they were paired with any.

She found matches for Heather, Flower, and Midnight, and got them together. Just small sparks, to be sure, but sometimes small sparks could grown into a fire.

She smiled each time she saw one of the couples slip into a private room. The three girls, she was sure, would look back on their first time fondly.

As for the other three...she didn't feel any of the little tingles that indicated the right man was there for them.

That was all right. The girls could dance and play and have fun, and two nights from now a new group of men would come to see them.

Alma waved her over. The boss was talking to a very tall man with an impatient scowl on his face.

"Her," Alma said, pointing at Ornament, who was giggling shyly with a small group of men.

"Find someone for her."

Magic shook her head. "There isn't anyone. That girl needs someone very..."

The man growled, soft and menacing. She looked at him again, her protests dying when she saw the symbol of Blazell on his jacket.

"Find one," he said, quiet and firm.

"Yes sir," she answered.

No one but a fool disagreed with a servant of Blazell.

XXXXXXXXXX

"It's not right," Magic thought, frowning "It's not fair. The girl's not ready."

She took a small amount of consolation from the waves of pleasure emanating from the private rooms. Not just the men, but the girls were experiencing joy.

She knew she had chosen wisely for those three-men that would be patient, gentle, and tender-men that would initiate the girls into the secrets and pleasures of sex and make it wonderful.

She hoped she could do half as well for Ornament.

At last, she focused on the only servant of Puldell in the club. He wasn't ideal-there was no real spark there between him and the girl-but he would at least be gentle.

She brought the two together, helping them find a quiet corner where he could talk to her and put her at ease before they moved private.

The crowd began to thin, the men sensing that all the girls who would be paired up that night, already had been. Lily and Magenta were both relieved and disappointed that all they'd done was dance.

"It's fine," Mio told them. "You'll be here three nights a week, but you won't go to one of the rooms every time."

"Only when it's right," Lily said, half a question, and Mio nodded.

Ornament and her partner slipped from the club. Magic watched, standing next to Alma and shaking her head unhappily. She shuddered at the predatory look in the servant of Blazell's eyes as he took a chair and vanished into the small hallway as well.

"I hate this," Magic told the club owner.

Expressionless as always, Alma nodded slowly.

"I don't like it either, but there was really no choice."

XXXXXXXXXX

The night wound down. The debut had been a success. Many of the men went out of their way before they left to find Alma, thanking and congratulating her for an enjoyable evening and assuring her they'd be back for another look at-and with any luck, much more-with the Chosen.

Of course, the three men who had been selected for the ultimate reward were all smiles. What the girls lacked in 'skills' they more than made up for in sweetness and curiosity-and innocence can be as enthralling as technique.

When Flower, Heather, and Midnight emerged from their private rooms, smiling and blushing, they were immediately taken under the wing of a servant of the god of Health, Harstell.

The girls had a good, long soak in a bathtub sprinkled with healing herbs, and the men examined them-not intrusively, but instead by channeling a little of the god's power to make sure they had suffered no ill-effect from the night's festivities.

The girls were a bit sore, and very tired, but otherwise uninjured.

With requests not to talk too much about their experiences before their Sisters got their own opportunity, the girls were returned to their rooms.

Lily and Magenta had tried to stay up, to greet and congratulate their Sisters and probably ask a thousand questions, but the excitement of the night, and the physical exertion of dancing, caught up with them. The two were sound asleep by the time Midnight, Heather and Flower fell into their beds.

A fourth servant of Harstell saw Ornament's partner leave, and went to wait outside her private room. She was chased away by a scowl and emphatic head shake from Corbett.

Sighing, the healer retreated to the main part of the club to wait.

XXXXXXXXXX

With a soft groan, Ornament swung her legs over the edge of the bed and put her feet on the floor.

Her partner had been very gentle, but she was still sore. In the room's dim light, she could see a little bit of blood on the sheets-an expected consequence of losing her virginity.

'You're truly a Chosen now,' she thought, and smiled wearily.

She had liked the man well enough. His name was Artest, and he had been very careful and very considerate-talking softly, putting her at ease as best he could, assuring her he would try very hard not to hurt her.

When they came to the room, he respected her shy request to only light one candle. He had moved slowly, but with confidence, using his hands and lips to rouse her passions skillfully.

She had been squirming and panting when he finally entered her, and at first had moaned with pleasure. Then there was a brief flash of terrible pain that left her frozen and tense, while he held her, not moving, whispering soft words of comfort as her tiny body shuddered.

The actual pain had only lasted a heartbeat, but her fear lingered. At last, he felt her body relax, and began to move inside her, slowly and carefully, showing her that from then on there was only pleasure.

She felt the presence and approval of the gods as she gave herself to this near stranger. The climax that rolled through her was very different from the only other one she had experienced in her life, that first night on Vens.

It was softer, gentler, an almost lazy peak-a gentle flow of water, compared to a lightning strike. Still, she clung to Artest and gasped her joy, her slim legs quivering as he thrust forward and filled her.

The feelings when he spent inside her were exquisite-at that moment, as he groaned and spurted, she knew the gods had done her a favor when they chose her.

But now she was tired, and there was an ache between her legs. She wanted nothing more than to go to her own, new bed and sleep as long as they'd let her.

There was a white robe, hanging on a peg on the back of the door. She picked up her shoes, carrying them loosely in one hand as she slipped the robe over her nude body, then opened the door. She expected to see Mio, or maybe one of her Sisters.

Instead, a very tall, stern faced man rose from his chair before she could even fully leave the room, blocking her path.

"You're not done tonight, little one," he said with a twisted smile.

Her eyes went wide. "But...but..." was all she could manage.

With a twirl of his finger, he indicated she should return to the small private room.

"Please," she pleaded softly. "I'm sore, and tired. This was my first night."

His smile was unreadable, but it was not kind.

"Don't worry, little Chosen," he told her. "I won't make your virgin pain any worse."

Ornament wanted to beg, to flee, to cry-but the man drew himself to his full, intimidating height, towering over her.

For ten years, she had been taught to obey, to be a good girl, to follow the rules. Saying no to this man would have been as impossible as stopping breathing.

Her lower lip quivered as he shut the door.

Trembling, she watched him look around the room and scowl.

"This will never do."

He took matches and lit candle after candle, until the room blazed with bright light, leaving her no way to hide even a little bit.

"What's your name, little Chosen?"

"O-ornament," she stammered, and he smiled widely.

"I'm Corbett. I serve Blazell."

The mention of the warrior gods name added to her intimidation, just as he wanted it to. He felt himself stiffen as he watched this adorable, innocent little girl shiver.

"Take off the robe."

The corners of her mouth twitched down. "Please..." she began, but his glare stopped her. There was no mercy in those eyes.

Reluctantly, with shaking hands, she removed her only covering, and was left naked and exposed in the harsh lights.

"Beautiful," he breathed, his voice growing husky, his eyes drinking in her loveliness.

He pulled his shirt over his head. "On the bed," and even though his voice was soft, she recognized it as a command.

"Please be gentle," she murmured as she lay down, her legs together, her body stiff.

His only answer was a chuckle.

He stripped down to just his undershorts, and came to the bed. She hadn't gotten that good a look at Artest, but from the size of the tent in his last piece of clothing, she guessed this man was much larger.