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Message-ID: <29942asstr$987808203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: LadyFaerieFire@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} The Forest Lord <*> {WhiteRose} (MF Rom magic oral)
Date: Fri, 20 Apr 2001 19:10:03 -0400
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<1st attachment, "ForestLord.txt" begin>

   NOTE: THIS FILE CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT AND IS INTENDED FOR THE
LEGAL USE OF ADULTS ONLY!  IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 OR DO NOT AGREE WITH THE
RESTRICTIONS AND REQUIREMENTS LISTED AT http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/whiterose/www/,
PLEASE DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER.

   (Story content: MF, Rom, magic, oral)


   The Forest Lord -- by The WhiteRose (all rights reserved)

   She trekked through the woods at a brisk pace, eager to reach
her destination.  It wasn't a long walk, but it was a physical
journey that mirrored the internal travels she made as surely as
her feet stepped upon the well-worn path between the trees.

   The moon was full, casting Her light upon the earth, making a
lantern unnecessary as the soft, cascading glow drifted between the
tree branches and onto the ground below.  Clad in soft leather
boots, her soles tread precisely upon the path, avoiding a tangle
of roots here, a grasping vine there, with a catlike grace that
spoke of both natural ability and familiarity with the trail.

   As her feet tread the path, so her mind made the journey,
looking to the place she would come to be, that special place, the
sacred place, nestled in the heart and mind of the world as her
physical destination was nestled within these woods.

   It was a rendezvous, a meeting.  With whom or what, she didn't
know precisely.  But then she did know, as intimately as she knew
her own name, her own mind and heart.  Him.  Lord over all, master
of all things wild, free and masculine.  These woods were His
domain, as was her heart.

   The only doubt was as to His physical form upon this night. 
She had seen Him before, felt his presence in her heart, soul and
mind.  In some ways, He was always with her.  But tonight she would
be calling upon His physical form, to join with Him and to worship
at the altar that was His real presence in this world.

   She walked quickly toward the sacred grove.  Its existence was
a secret she held close to her heart, for she would have no one
sully its holiness with a disrespectful presence.  So few there
were who could even understand, and far fewer who would respect the
place as it should be.  It was holy ground, as purely holy as a
Christian chapel or Buddhist shrine. There could be no mundane
presence here.  It was a place out of this world and time.  And
there would be no such presence here, for it held itself secret to
all but those who could understand and appreciate its mysteries and
delights.

   As the trail wandered slightly to the left, she slowed to a
halt, reaching to sweep aside a thick covering of vines. 
Recognizing the immensity of the thing to come, she paused for a
moment, then stepped within the confines of the vines, into the
grove.

   The sight was a familiar one to her, but was astonishing in its
beauty nonetheless.  One coming into this place for the first time
would have been awestruck, watching the soft moonlight bounce from
the leaves of the tall trees, across the open stretch of dewy grass
and reflecting sharply from the rippling waters of the pond.  She
paused again, in awe herself, though she had been here many times
and even considered this place part of herself.

   As she was a sworn priestess of the Goddess, so she was also
sworn as His consort.  Soft, steady and female was she, as surely
as He and His priests were wild, free and masculine.  It was time
to set the balance, contrast and amplify her own femininity in the
intimate presence of the male, of Him and His.

   Tonight she would call upon Him, bring Him to her, in whichever
guise He would choose, sun to her moon, stag to her doe.

   She approached the glistening waters of the pond, dropping the
small bag of offerings and tools gently to the ground, pulling the
soft boots from her feet.  She trailed her hand into the water,
raising droplets to her mouth, brushing them across the soft petals
that were her lips.  With a deep sigh of peace and joy, she stood
and removed her remaining clothing, setting it carefully aside on
one of the rocks that surrounded the shimmering pond.

   The moonlight caressed the soft curves of her pale body,
shining upon her hair, glistening in her bright eyes.  She stepped
into the pond, slowly easing herself into the summerwarmed waters
until her long hair floated upon the waters, then sink into them as
she slipped beneath the surface.

   Breathless, she emerged from the water, crossing the small pond
to sit upon the rock ledge where the cascading waters of the tiny
waterfall that fed the pond would caress her shoulders.

   In complete peace, she rested there, allowing her mind to empty
of the outside world, only to fill itself with the strong, focused,
blank presence of magic.  The normal world dropped away, but the
real world, the sounds and presences of the magical grove and of
the unseen universe beyond, became sharp and tangible.  With a
mental hand she could reach out and touch it all.  Feel every
nuance, control every movement, live every tiny moment.  It was time.

   Her mind stretched out, reaching for His presence, calling Him,
welcoming Him in.  A flicker of Presence, of acknowledgement, of
promise. The world took a breath.  She felt his presence a moment
before she heard the footsteps coming from the trees.  She forced
herself to wait, to remain where she was, eyes closed, as he
approached.  The need to see, to know, what he would be this night,
what face and body he would wear, it was strong, so strong.  But
she held herself in check, pausing a moment longer, and only then
allowing her lids to slowly drift open to cast her gaze upon him as
he knelt at the ledge of the pond in front of her, gazing upon her
with the same curious knowing she knew was reflected in her own gaze.

   She rose from her place at the back of the pond, the water
streaming down her body from her damp hair and shoulders, dripping
across her breasts before rejoining its like in the pond.  Her
nipples peeked out of the water, already tightening as she took in
his presence before her.  He glanced downward, taking in the sight
of her rounded breasts as she stepped forward, then returning to
look into her eyes, amplifying the visceral connection between them.

   She took him in now, as he knelt at the edge of the pond before
her, one hand upon the ground to steady himself, the other upon
bended knee, a hunter's posture.  He was tall.  This she could tell
even in his present pose.  It was a body like any other man's, only
more so.  Strength exuded from every cell, maleness from every
pore.  Smooth expanses of skin, rolling plains of muscle.  Soft
waves of wheat cascading from his head, across his shoulders and
chest.  And the almost unexpected: the crown of antlers, the
branching racks of a young stag, sprouting from his head in a
manner most natural, yet so much beyond...

   She padded slowly towards him, taking her time across the short
distance. Arriving at the rocky edge upon which he knelt, she
tilted her head slowly upward, fully taking in the look of him
before meeting his eyes again.  For a moment, everything stopped. 
Then he reached leaned down to close the small distance between
their lips, claiming her mouth with a soft suggestion followed by a
breathtaking demand.

   He stood slowly, trailing his hand across her face as he did. 
She stepped back, wanting to see his face while he remained at the
greater height.  But as she did so, he himself slipped gently into
the waters before her, coming to a rest only a stride away from
her.  She looked him in the eye again, feeding upon the connection
there, upon the desire and pleasure carried in his glance as he
gazed upon her once again.

   He closed the distance between them, grasping the back of her
head, her hair, in his hand and pulling her lips to his.  It was
again a claiming, a verification: this is mine.  And she was.  She
had given herself freely to Him, and to this creature, His living
form.  There was no greater desire than to be herself utterly in
being his.

   She returned his kiss ferociously, licking at his lips, his
tongue, opening herself to his advances as he pressed her mouth to
his.  She grasped at his waist, pulling him against her, wanting
nothing more than to meld the two of them together.  His beautiful
cock, already rising to meet her, was pressed to her belly.  She
pressed herself harder against him, reveling in the feeling of him,
the presence of him.

   His other hand trailed through the water and across her naked
hip, coming to rest upon her rear as he pulled her body against his
with the same overwhelming desire.  She rubbed against him, nipples
hardening against his chest, his cock trapped between them.  His
hand left her hair, reaching for her other hip and pulling her leg
to wrap around his waist, pressing her slit against his cock.  He
grabbed her other leg, sliding his hand slowly up the side as he
positioned it around his waist as well, so that she straddled him,
rode him.  His cock still trapped between them, in the damp valley
of her slit, he walked the few short steps to the rear edge of the
stone-lined pond, pressing her back up against the rocky ledge,
then lifting her to seat her upon the edge, her legs still wrapped
around his waist.

   Freed of the need to support her, his hands traveled slowly
back up her sides, reaching her breasts.  He rubbed the darkened
nubs with his thumbs, then took them between his thumb and
forefinger and twisted them lightly. She moaned into his mouth,
into his deep kisses, using her legs to pull him even harder
against her pussy.

   He began to lick his way downward, licking at her lips, her
chin, her graceful neck, her collarbone...  a quick detour at her
breasts, nibbling at the nipples, only to return to the downward
journey, leaving a cooling line of dampness where his mouth had
traveled that tingled in the breeze. He stuck his tongue through
the tiny hoop that pierced her navel, pulling lightly at the little
ring before returning to his journey, spreading her legs to the
side, then sliding his warm, wet tongue through the thatch of damp
curls that topped her sex, and right into the valley that had just
warmed his cock a few moments before.

   A glancing touch to her clitoris, making her jump at the sudden
sensation, and then he engulfed her sex with his mouth, licking at
her clit, sucking the water and juices from the warm slit.  He
licked up and down the slit, top to bottom and back again, making
her hips writhe uncontrollably with the sensations.  Wiggling his
tongue along the path, he then inserted just the tip into her
hungry hole.  She squealed in pleasure, pressing his head harder
against her sex and he obeyed the request, probing into her vagina
with that strong, warm, obedient tool, tasting her along the way,
enjoying the sweet, musky flavor and scent of this passionate woman.

   He looked up at her then, making eye contact as he licked her
sensitive clit once more, watching her eyes snap shut and her head
jerk up and down and side to side with the visceral reaction as
each movement of his tongue sent shockwaves through her clit and up
into her whole body, muscles spasming out of her control.  Her
hands beat wildly at his shoulders and head, pressing him into her
slit, pulling lightly at his hair as she tried to process the
sensory overload he was creating.

   He latched onto her sex again, sucking at her clit, tonguing at
her slit, covering the whole with his mouth as he engulfed her in a
storm of pleasurable sensations.  Her hips beat rhythmically
against his face, signaling the strength of her arousal.  The
juices flowing from her also verified that she was surely coming
close.  So close.  She threw her legs around his chest, pulling him
harder into her cunt.  He laved her sex like a cat at a bowl of
cream, lapping up the juices, leaving some of his own as he
traveled around the center of her.

   As she continued to writhe in her pleasure, knowing her peak
was close, he sucked her clit into his mouth and then used the tip
of his tongue to flick the super-sensitive lovebutton in an
increasing rhythm.  She beat at his shoulders, wanting the
delicious torment to never end but helpless to do anything to
assuage the torment itself.  She grabbed his head again, pressing
him to her, moaning in her pleasure now, as he brought her even
higher in the spiral of ecstasy.

   He sucked and licked her until she could no longer control any
of her reactions, moaning loudly, muscles in her hips and hands
jumping without any ability to stop.  He sped up the pace of the
tongue-tickling on her clit, sucking it against his lips as her
head jerked back and forth in response to the utterly devastating
sexual sensation.

   He stuck two fingers inside her hole, fucking her with them,
rubbing the sensitive little spot just inside, making her squeal. 
And just when she thought she could take no more, he pressed
rhythmically upon that spot, timing it to the flicking of her clit
with his tongue.  She spasmed backwards, then lashed forwards and
then back again, as she crashed through the wall of sensation he
had created for her.

   Spent from her thrashing, she laid back upon the ground, her
legs hanging over his shoulders, juicy slit pounding out the beats
of her racing pulse, a boneless, motionless mass of warm goo lost
in the ecstasy he had delivered.

   He lifted her hips, moving her back a short distance, farther
onto the ground, away from the pool.  He then raised himself up
over her, aiming his rampant cock at her hot pulsating slit.  With
a single strong, demanding motion, he lodged himself inside, to the
hilt.

   Grabbing her shoulders for leverage, he pulled back, then
thrust hard again, the head of his cock hitting the inner structure
of her cervix as he pounded into her.  Every time he pulled back,
she moaned again, as if at a loss.  And she squealed with delight
as he ploughed into her hole again and again.  The pulsing beats of
her sex intensified once more, speeding up with the pace of his
powerful thrusts, his balls bouncing off of her ass with the force
of his movements.

   She wrapped her hands into his hair, running them through the
flowing mass along his scalp.  She gently ran her thumbs along the
joining ridges of the antlers, marveling at this omnipresent sign
of what he really was --no ordinary man.  She wrapped her legs
around his waist once more, pulling her hips up to meet his
thrusts, pounding them both against each other in an ever-
increasing tide of pleasure.

   Every thrust brought a grunt from him, a moan from her, music
for dancing the oldest dance, the most basic of human pleasures and
instincts. He pounded into her, faster and faster, stronger and
harder and more desperately.  Her throbbing sex matched his pace,
bringing her again to that peak as he fucked her harder and faster
by the moment.

   She grabbed his head, fingers entangled in his hair, pulling
his mouth to hers.  Their eyes met, then their lips, crashing
together like a smaller image of the meeting going on below.  She
heard the soft-spoken whisper, not really audible, but clear in her
own mind: "My priestess, my Goddess..."

   He feasted on her mouth, and pounded in and out of her with his
hard cock, looking into her eyes and making her know that she was
more and more his with each and every stroke he took.  Every stroke
that he gave her. Her cunt contracted with the joy of it, bringing
on the final crash, as he jack-hammered himself into her, sucking
on her lips, his eyes feasting on her own.  He pounded her faster
and harder than she could have believed and she alternately floated
on waves of ecstasy and crashed in the physical spasms that rocked
her body, until finally, he gave one last great thrust and spurted
inside of her, coating her hole with his seed and collapsing upon
her in his own release.

   She lay there beneath him, wondering at the solid feel of him
upon her body, inside her body.  She closed her eyes, smiled a
smile of utter joy, and made a prayer of thanks to the Goddess for
giving her this pleasure as a priestess.  She looked down upon the
antlered man, his face resting upon her breast, lips pressed to the
nipple.  And she whispered her own thank you to him.  He looked up
at her, catching her eye in an intense, penetrating stare that told
her without words that she was Goddess incarnate to him.  And then
he just disappeared, like fog under the morning sun...


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