2002-07-15 - 12:12 a.m.
Temple whore. Clad in little more than jewelry and decorative cloths that do nothing to cover my breasts or my pussy, I greet the men at the temple door. I am not allowed to speak. I sink to my knees and one by one they step up, and I suckle each cock to hardness before they can enter the temple. If they are already hard, I still must suckle, performing the act for each man. Or, I should say, each cock, for that's all I ever see, their faces are covered by traditional masks.
Once the temple is full of men, the doors are closed, and I rise from my knees, walk to the altar. I raise the enormous golden chalice and drink deeply, every drop. The potion within makes me woozy yet strangely lucid, and deliciously relaxed.
Then I am made to lie down upon the altar. My legs are open wide. My smooth pussy is bared to them all, and I hear a collective growl fill the temple.
This is the ritual. My cunt is the altar. They surge forward, in an ecstasy of rut. Stabbing, spurting cocks, fumbling in to drive furiously in and out, pumping until they explode with semen and finally pull out. Then, right away, the next eager cock. Plunging into my slippery cunt, working in and out till it too blows its load. The cum that drips out is collected below me, in the chalice. Cock after cock... a spurting river of semen coming back out from deep in my hungry hole. It goes on and on and on. I am soaked with sweat: some mine, mostly theirs. Some pinch and pull my nipples. When anyone touches my clit, I come.
Finally, the enormous chalice is brimful with cum. Every drop has been consecrated by having first been squirted into me. The offering to the gods.
I am spent, exhausted, trembling, euphoric. The crops will not fail this year.
And there are more men at the temple door.