Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Goddess has chosen me, and I am blessed.  For the rest of my life, I am
blessed.
   The Temple is the oldest place in the world.  The lapping ocean wore
soft, intricate tunnels into the stone here, over aeons.  Generations of
worshipers have added, year by year, the most intricate carved patterns I
have ever seen.  The stone walls are now a forest, trees and vines, beasts
and flowers and women.  There are no words, no letters.  Only patterns,
filled with a secret sense I cannot quite grasp.
   Two young Initiates are there to greet me at the entrance; before I can
descend the smoothed, sloping steps, they take everything I have.  I did
not bring much.  They help me peel the clothes from my back and legs; the
straps of my sandals are cut away with a curved bronze knife.  At last I
stand naked, my belongings piled to the side.  I will never see them again;
I will never need to own anything again.  The clothes will be burned in a
great fire, late tonight.
   The Initiates take my hands and lead me down into the Earth.  The one on
my right is pale, pale freckled skin, pale hair, eyes like blue glass.  She
looks very solemn.  Her friend, with my left hand held in two of hers, has
coppery skin and dark bronze hair.  She smiles knowingly when I look at
her. They are both wearing shapeless, featureless white robes of rough
cotton, and barefoot.  Neither one can be older than 17; the blonde is
quite thin and seems barely even a teenager.  I feel my pulse quicken and a
tingle slide over my naked skin as I stare at her exotic hair.  Already I
am half erect.
   The tunnel grows dim, now lit more by oil lamps with frosted glass than
by the sunlight.  I will never see the sun again.  The smooth, rounded
stone is cool under our feet.  I descend, step by step, backward into time,
into the place we all came from.  I seem to hear a slow, steady beat, like
a distant drummer marking a stately march, or the heartbeat of a sleeping
giantess.
   There are other tunnels now, side branches, carved by patient hands,
patient water.  There are rooms now, filled with women doing things.  They
are cooking, they are cleaning, they are washing and dressing each other,
they are eating and drinking.  There are rooms for reading and counting
goods and studying, but they are empty.
   Now the women in the rooms are doing other things.  They are singing. 
They are dancing, not lively springy dances like the ones I know from home,
but slow spinning and dipping, weaving in and out, swaying back and forth.
They are drinking wine from wooden bowls.  Some mark each others' faces and
bodies with paints in fantastic patterns and colors; some wear so many
bracelets and anklets and necklaces, that they make their own music by
moving, flashing in the soft light.  Some are dressed simply, like my
Initiates, or are completely naked.  Priestesses have sashes and tattoos;
higher Priestesses have more than the lower ones.  In some rooms I see many
women crowded around a small brazier of coals, breathing in the sweet smoke
of herbal mixtures thrown in and burned.  Others are sniffing lines of
powders, white, pink, grey, or brown.  Some I see not eating but chewing
strange roots and spitting dark juices onto the floor - or even into each
other's mouths.
   The drum beat seems faster now, though I have not seen its source.  The
women are making more music themselves, some slapping drums or wooden tubes
or clapping their own hands on skin.  Others ring bells of many sizes, or
blow into pipes.  Priestesses walk behind me, insidious whispers in a
babbling language I cannot understand worming into my ears; Priestesses
wail and moan, pulling their hair, slapping themselves in the face.  There
are more smells now too, sweet and sour and smoky, strong and earthy.  Some
Priestesses - and some Initiates - make a point of coming into the hallway
to slide a hand, or sometimes just a finger, over my body or face.
   The scenes in the rooms become stronger still as we work our way down,
down into the World; we pass two wide-eyed, flushed red Initiates working
oil into the naked body of a very High Priestess, whose skin seems to be
one giant tattoo, black and red and blue and green and silver and gold,
worked together brilliantly like some strange bird; her eyes follow me
hungrily as I pass, my mind trying and failing to find words in the
meaningless, beautiful patterns.  Naked women, shining with oil, are
kissing and stroking each other; now young women lap obediently at the
crotches of older women; Priestesses stand behind gasping Initiates,
encircling hands rubbing nipples and cupping breasts; and finally a Grand
Matron, still powerfully beautiful despite touches of grey in her hair,
slouches back in a massive, blackened wooden throne, feet splayed high and
wide apart, sliding a spiral-ribbed rod in and out of her vagina.  As we
pass her, her eyes widen and she hisses at me, then chatters loudly in the
unknown language and hurls her sexual fluids at us; a drop lands on my
face, and I let it dribble down.  My penis is aching now, stiff and red,
and drooling fluid of its own.  Moans and cries fill the halls around us.
My head seems to be throbbing with the massive beat of the drum, now loud
and increasingly demanding.
   I am led into a massive room, now far below the surface world.  A great
crevice glows hellish red and steam fills the air; the walls drip and my
skin prickles.  A smell like rotten eggs brushes past my face.  Dim
lighting throws shadows from the women here, moving in and out of each
other in circles which grow as they follow us and take their places in the
great dance.  There is no bed, only a great mound of furs and pillows,
waiting to be occupied.
   My Initiates dip water from a large bowl and ladle it over my head; they
gently scrape my skin clean with dull bronze spoon-like tools.  They dip
their slender fingers into a mixture of oil and flower petals and begin to
work it into my body.  The blonde seems a bit frightened of me; I bare my
teeth at her and pretend to bite as her hand moves closer to my face.  The
olive-skinned girl giggles and slides an oiled finger down the crack of my
ass, making me squirm a bit.  It's hard now to make out details of her
face. I change my mind and decide to take her first, while the other
watches us.
   I do not understand where the drum beat is coming from.  The entire
cavern seems to be shaking with it; my skull seems to vibrate in time. 
There must be dozens of naked women in the room now, voices mixing in
terrible rising chaos.  Sweat drips through my oil.
   At last, at long last, my Initiates lead me to the center of the
circling women, the center of the soft mound of bedding.  Three of the
Great Matrons are here, including the one who threw her juices at me; their
white eyes seem almost disembodied as the shadows cling and spin around
their inked skins.  A moment of confusion grips me; where is the leader,
the True Mother?  Perhaps I misunderstood; perhaps she is somewhere else,
coming later in the ceremony.  My mind is fogged and cannot keep the
question in mind for long.  The Priestesses are lazily groping themselves,
and each other.  I draw a deep breath of this hot, damp air, desperate to
begin at last.  I am nervous and dizzy, yet warm energy seems to flow up
through my feet and swirl through my body.  Enough!
   I pull the blonde Inititate's robe over her head and throw it on the
pile below us.  Her eyes are wide, fixed on me; her tongue rubs her lips
and she swallows nervously.  Her breasts are small, no more than a palmful
each, but I can barely make out large, stiff nipples.  I pull her to me,
one hand squeezing a small, firm ass cheek, the other on her tit; my mouth
clamps on to the side of her neck and I suck, hard.  She moans in my ear,
her hands floudering and then hanging useless.  I feel the other girl's
lips on the back of my neck and her hands at my waist, touching lightly.  I
like and graze with my teeth, down to a pale breast, and I begin nursing,
sucking hard with my lips and then even my teeth while I pinch and pull her
other nipple with my finger and thumb.  The red light seems to wash over
and through me, rushing in and out of my blood; it is blood, warm and
heavy, filling the room.  The heat in me builds close to an unbearable
level.  My other hand slides between her butt-cheeks and I dig a finger
into her asshole, sucking harder; she cries out and whimpers above me.  The
other women, chanting and wailing, seem to mock her.  I see nothing now; my
eyes are closed to everything but red heat.  Behind me, the other Initiate
is grinding and sliding her body on mine; she has obviously removed her
robe as well.  Her soft breasts, bigger than her companion's, push hard
nipples into my back in small circles.  Tiny hands rub oil into my balls
and stroke at my chest; I feel her teeth as she nips on my shoulder; one
small foot slides up and down the outside of my calf.
   Guiding her down onto the furs, I lay the blonde on her back; her breath
is coming fast and shallow now, and her eyes are closed.  I turn and kiss
the olive girl, pushing my tongue deep into her mouth, cupping both sides
of her jaw with my hands.  She makes a startled noise and then returns the
kiss, grasping the back of my head as she works her tongue on mine.  Then I
break free and pull her down with me to the furs.  With my hands I push her
into place on her stomach, almost as though she were going to fuck the
blonde; their breasts rub together.  The blonde girl still has her eyes
closed, but her friend looks back over her shoulder at me, slightly
confused.  I kneel behind her and line myself up, one hand on her back, one
guiding my penis into her virginity.  I spread her brown legs, which in
turn spread the pale ones; I push in, leaning forward, and hot, tight
heaven grips me.  She cries out loudly, and the blonde grunts in turn as
our weight smashes into her.  I might have once planned to take my time
with this delicious work, but it's all far too much for me to bear; hugging
their bodies to me as hard as I can, I begin fucking her hard, smashing the
two of them together.
   I feel like I'm drowning in blood; the heavy air crashing into and
through me, rushing forward in wave after wave, an ocean pushing forward
again and again.  The heat has filled me to bursting.  I sense that it is
flowing from me into them with each thrust.  I can hear them grunting and
gasping with it.  The blonde doesn't seem to believe what is happening; in
her confusion her eyes open and close, and her arms flail as I grind the
brunette into her.  Between us, the darker girl has shut her eyes now, face
tight with pain and pleasure and the force of it all.  She pushes herself
back onto me, impaling her vagina, trying to work me in deeper and deeper.
Her cries are loud now, overpowering everything but the drum beat, pounding
in time to my thrusting.
   It comes upon me quickly; that I lasted even this long is surprising. 
The tip of my cock seems to burn and I roar as I come, pouring a torrent of
semen into her from behind.  I grab her by the shoulders and shove myself
into her as deep as I can, feeling my cock pulse.  She makes a whining
strangled sound and begins to shake; her abdomen convulses as she joins me
in orgasm.  The heat is unbelievable and sweat pours from me, from both of
us, running onto the snowy young beauty below, who seems in shock.  She's
crying; I realize that all three of us are.
   The women around us reach a clashing climax in their singing; they
shriek and ululate, hands stretched high, fingers and feet flailing.  The
Grand Matrons gasp, teeth showing white in huge grins as they masturbate.
But it is only the beginning.
  
temple_1