He approached the long banquet table slowly. His leash was held up high, as she led him to the centre of the circle of stones, where it was now located. The cold bare wood was shining, well polished by his own hands so many times before. He turned and stepped back, raised himself up and reclined in a fluid motion, gracefully bringing his legs up upon it. He stretched out. Toes pointed to one end, fingertips to the other. The leash was removed as cuffs were placed on his wrists and ankles. The shackles clinked and locked, close to his ears. He wasn't going anywhere.
He heard Her speaking in a lowered tone of voice, giving orders, attending to details. Footsteps went off in many directions at Her command. He could only lay still, drifting on the rise and fall of murmurs not meant for him to hear.
His collar was removed. He remained still while his hands and feet were trussed, like a lovely prime rib. His body was gently beaten with bundled herbs, preparing him. The light fragrance clung to his skin, masking the raspberry scent so strong in the night air. A faint breeze mingled them together. His flesh was tender under the lashing. He opened his mouth as an apple was pressed into it, then hands closed his jaws, clamping his teeth down deeply through its peel. A primal feast was being prepared, and he was the main course.
"He is beautiful," a voice murmured close by. Smiles and nods were exchanged knowingly. He was still in a light trance from the occasional ringing of bells. He roused, thinking they must be talking about him. His sex hardened as he felt a shiver of excitement.
His thoughts drifted amidst the sultry gathering. His shaft remained at attention, while eyes looked on, inspecting him further.
Wine glasses clinked as silverware tapped them in unison. Down deeper he went. A prayer was offered to a goddess name he had never heard before. His only dealings with a goddess had been his enchanting Mistress. Aside from Her, there could be no greater force to reckon with. She had him in ways he had only dreamed about... Dreams that were now real.
Soon female voices joined in a chant, while circling the outside of the stones, from left to right. There were so many of them. A small bonfire blazed close by sending sparks of embers into the night sky. On pillars were golden bowls of red, ripe raspberries. As the women circled, they would each in turn pause at the bowls, drawing out handfuls of them. They now circled to the right as each found her place in front of one of the stones he himself had placed so carefully on the perfect grass, until everyone was properly positioned. The full moon was high as they began their chanting once more.
A nearby steeple clock began to strike the midnight hour. One... Two... He fell deeper with every toll. He could feel the women surrounding him, speaking in an ancient language, counting out the resounding rings. Deeper and deeper down he plunged, as though he had never heard it before yet he was ever so conditioned to the triggering.
As the bells tolled for their last time, he was deeply tranced into the oblivion he had come to love. The circle of women began to converge on him. The scent of raspberries was stronger as each at once brought her offering to the table where he lay helpless. They were motioned to begin by his Mistress. The raspberries were poured out over him, then rubbed into his bathed and smoothly shaved body, leaving no portion untouched. The juices oozed over his belly and between his muscular thighs, down his arms and legs, and into his most tender places. The berries were smeared onto his cheeks, his mouth, his nipples... He was rubbed all red and purple as they in their nakedness began to kiss and lick him hungrily. They were chanting while they took him, their own bodies becoming stained with his while he hardened to an excruciating length. It was the largest he had ever been before. He ached but was so deeply entranced that he was unable to release. Not yet, not without permission.
The licks and kisses changed to bites as the he was shifted on the table, turned onto his side. The apple-mouthed entrée could not moan or cry out. Each one was draining blood, leaving their puncture wounds from long sharp fangs gleaming in the night shadows. The berries were rubbed into his backside and over his buttocks while tongues and teeth found fresh flesh in which to embed their bites. He was in exquisite agony unlike any mortal had ever known before.
His eyes opened slightly, glancing over the sea of faces, looking for his Mistress. He wanted Her to save him for Herself, but was too weak to think. In his fog he saw each face was Hers, dozens of Her were there, like many sets of twins ~ multitudes of his Mistress. He trembled and gave way to his fate; though in truth he could not resist it. They took him from on top, from behind, into their mouths... They were biting, sucking, and tasting his blood and their juices as orgasm after orgasm swelled and quaked. He heard Her command him to release, and he exploded. Now it was raspberries and his cream with theirs.
There was nothing left untouched or not taken completely. They we like cannibals, devouring his body, his mind. And his soul.
He heard Her speaking in a lowered tone of voice, giving orders, attending to details. Footsteps went off in many directions at Her command. He could only lay still, drifting on the rise and fall of murmurs not meant for him to hear.
His collar was removed. He remained still while his hands and feet were trussed, like a lovely prime rib. His body was gently beaten with bundled herbs, preparing him. The light fragrance clung to his skin, masking the raspberry scent so strong in the night air. A faint breeze mingled them together. His flesh was tender under the lashing. He opened his mouth as an apple was pressed into it, then hands closed his jaws, clamping his teeth down deeply through its peel. A primal feast was being prepared, and he was the main course.
"He is beautiful," a voice murmured close by. Smiles and nods were exchanged knowingly. He was still in a light trance from the occasional ringing of bells. He roused, thinking they must be talking about him. His sex hardened as he felt a shiver of excitement.
His thoughts drifted amidst the sultry gathering. His shaft remained at attention, while eyes looked on, inspecting him further.
Wine glasses clinked as silverware tapped them in unison. Down deeper he went. A prayer was offered to a goddess name he had never heard before. His only dealings with a goddess had been his enchanting Mistress. Aside from Her, there could be no greater force to reckon with. She had him in ways he had only dreamed about... Dreams that were now real.
Soon female voices joined in a chant, while circling the outside of the stones, from left to right. There were so many of them. A small bonfire blazed close by sending sparks of embers into the night sky. On pillars were golden bowls of red, ripe raspberries. As the women circled, they would each in turn pause at the bowls, drawing out handfuls of them. They now circled to the right as each found her place in front of one of the stones he himself had placed so carefully on the perfect grass, until everyone was properly positioned. The full moon was high as they began their chanting once more.
A nearby steeple clock began to strike the midnight hour. One... Two... He fell deeper with every toll. He could feel the women surrounding him, speaking in an ancient language, counting out the resounding rings. Deeper and deeper down he plunged, as though he had never heard it before yet he was ever so conditioned to the triggering.
As the bells tolled for their last time, he was deeply tranced into the oblivion he had come to love. The circle of women began to converge on him. The scent of raspberries was stronger as each at once brought her offering to the table where he lay helpless. They were motioned to begin by his Mistress. The raspberries were poured out over him, then rubbed into his bathed and smoothly shaved body, leaving no portion untouched. The juices oozed over his belly and between his muscular thighs, down his arms and legs, and into his most tender places. The berries were smeared onto his cheeks, his mouth, his nipples... He was rubbed all red and purple as they in their nakedness began to kiss and lick him hungrily. They were chanting while they took him, their own bodies becoming stained with his while he hardened to an excruciating length. It was the largest he had ever been before. He ached but was so deeply entranced that he was unable to release. Not yet, not without permission.
The licks and kisses changed to bites as the he was shifted on the table, turned onto his side. The apple-mouthed entrée could not moan or cry out. Each one was draining blood, leaving their puncture wounds from long sharp fangs gleaming in the night shadows. The berries were rubbed into his backside and over his buttocks while tongues and teeth found fresh flesh in which to embed their bites. He was in exquisite agony unlike any mortal had ever known before.
His eyes opened slightly, glancing over the sea of faces, looking for his Mistress. He wanted Her to save him for Herself, but was too weak to think. In his fog he saw each face was Hers, dozens of Her were there, like many sets of twins ~ multitudes of his Mistress. He trembled and gave way to his fate; though in truth he could not resist it. They took him from on top, from behind, into their mouths... They were biting, sucking, and tasting his blood and their juices as orgasm after orgasm swelled and quaked. He heard Her command him to release, and he exploded. Now it was raspberries and his cream with theirs.
There was nothing left untouched or not taken completely. They we like cannibals, devouring his body, his mind. And his soul.
~~~~~~~~~~
Two days and nights went by while the fever held him captive in his bed. The empty stained-red bowl of raspberries he had eaten for his last supper was there on the nightstand. His sheets and body were drenched in sweat and berry juices. He had welts and wounds on his skin, from "thrashing and scratching" the neighbor who found him said.
"You must be allergic to berries, poor thing," she murmured as she leaned in closer, pressing her lips to his forehead.
"The fever has broken now, but you must rest. I will send someone down to help you bathe and clean up this mess you have made. Perhaps a little night air up on the roof would do you good."
Too weak to respond, he opened his eyes long enough to see a beautiful familiar face, while She softly smiled. She slipped Her cherry red fingertip into his mouth. His eyes closed as his tongue encircled it. He suckled and automatically began to dream of Her toes.
No comments:
Post a Comment