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From: archiveposter@aol.comArchive (The Kristen Archives)
Subject: {ASSM} Ritual (A Winter Solstice Story)
Date: Sun,  9 Dec 2001 18:10:03 -0500
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Ritual (MF, nc, bdsm, sacrifice)
by S.A. Talley (address withheld by request)
(c) December 2001 - No charge distribution only.

***

Written for the 2001 Winter Solstice Orgy 

There was a unique sect of paganism that began as a cult 
and turned into almost a religion in late 14th century 
England. The sect was called "The Bringers" and their 
most sacred ceremony required human sacrifice. 

Usually the ceremony required the priestess to first rape 
and then kill a willing male of breeding age. If the 
priestess became pregnant from the sacrifice, her 
daughter after reaching her majority would take her place 
allowing the priestess to retire with honor.

The position of priestess was something to be desired, 
but her sex life wasn't much to be desired. She could 
only have sexual relations during the sacrificial ritual. 
And the ritual could only be performed once a year on the 
shortest day, during the shortest hour of the winter 
solstice.

The practitioners of this cult believed that if the 
ritual didn't come off just right then they were doomed 
to a torturous year to follow, so it was important that 
everyone played their part well.

Finally in the 1340's the Catholic Church eradicated all 
but a few of "The Bringers".

But even after centuries of obscurity the ritual still 
takes place at least once a year at the very moment 
prescribed. It may be just a group of kids that 
discovered a manuscript and decided to defy convention. 
Or it might be a group of Satanists that stumbled upon 
the ritual and think it was devised just for them.

The one constant factor is that someone, someplace in the 
world, has observed the ritual at least once each year. 

One wonders what would happen if the chain were ever 
really broken?

*

December 2001 

The priestess stood in the shadows as the young strong 
looking Chinese man was led into the room. She watched 
him with interest wondering how he would hold up under 
the coming ritual. In the five years that she'd been the 
"Bringer of the Solstice," she'd never done it with a 
Chinese man before. He looked, well, interesting--

Warren Wong was a handsome man with strong clean limbs 
and a well-formed body. He obviously worked out and under 
normal circumstances he would have been able to fight his 
way out of a situation like this. Although he was an 
unwilling participant of the evening's events he was 
powerless to protect himself from the people that 
surrounded him.

Blindfolded with a black cloth bag tightly tied over his 
head and tied hand and foot, Warren was completely at 
their mercy. And when priestess walked confidently up to 
him and gripped his balls through the material of his 
jeans, her powerful fist squeezing him hard; all he could 
do was groan in pain and double over.

The flame-haired priestess looked down at the young 
Chinese man and wondered again briefly how he would hold 
up. She hoped that he would do better than the big black 
man she's undergone the ritual with last solstice. He'd 
been a big disappointment to her and the disciples. He 
was such a big and powerful looking man that she thought 
he would have held up better.

She could still recollect what a magnificent male 
specimen he'd been. All muscle, black and shiny, with 
thighs like knotted tree trunks and a manhood that was 
impressive even when flaccid. But he had disappointed her 
most bitterly. When the ritual had come and she'd begun 
to "bring" him, he'd just cried and whined like a baby.

But as the golden-skinned Chinese man knelt at her feet, 
the priestess was heartened by his defiant silence. She 
hopped that his silence was a good sign, but no one could 
really tell what kind of man he was until the "Bringing 
Ritual" began.

Warren was made to stand again. He flinched at the tough 
of the woman's hands upon his arm. The priestess smiled 
when she saw this, it always aroused her when a big 
strong man flinched at her touch. Then she turned to her 
disciples and said gruffly, "Strip him, and be quick 
about it. It is almost midnight."

Warren heard her and felt hands pulling at his clothing. 
He felt sick to his stomach with fear. How had he come to 
be here? What were they doing to him? Then his memory 
cleared slightly from the drug he'd been unsuspectingly 
fed and he remembered the pretty white girl who had been 
standing outside the strip bar.

She'd beckoned him around the corner just outside the 
circle of light shining down from above. He'd thought 
that she was a prostitute and he was more than willing to 
pay for a piece of something that looked so hot.

She was tall and had a curvy body. But what really 
grabbed Warren's interest was her flame-red hair and 
utterly white skin. She looked almost unearthly and was 
most definitely one of the most beautiful women he'd ever 
seen. He would have paid any price to touch her, to climb 
between her legs, to fuck her-Yes any price.

The last thing Warren remembered was leaning in to kiss 
her. She'd invited him to kiss her. As his lips touched 
her's he'd felt faint. Then he was struggling to breathe, 
but she held him tight in a passionate kiss and it seemed 
as though she was sucking the breath right out of him. 
Then he began to crumple to the ground. The last thing 
Warren remembered before waking up here blindfolded, was 
someone laughing, a high-pitched feminine laughter.

*

As the disciples tore at his clothes Warren tried to pull 
away, but it was no use. He could feel his clothing being 
pulled and cut away. What was happening? He blindly 
jerked away from his captures and fell to the ground. But 
that just made it easier for the hands to pull his pants 
and underwear from him. In moments Warren lay naked on 
the ground.

The flame-haired priestess inspected the Chinese man's 
body, looking for any defects or imperfections. She knew 
that if she found any that it would be her responsibility 
to find another man suitable for the ritual. It was too 
late to find anyone else other than a disciple. The 
ritual must take place in the next few moments.

Luckily the Chinese man's body was perfect, no blemishes 
no birth defects. His golden body was beautifully smooth, 
with light wisps of black hair under his armpits and 
encircling his manhood, with a little pubic hair 
peppering his heavy balls. His muscular body showed that 
he worked out, and as he struggled she could see his 
sinus ripple under his smooth skin.

The priestess liked what she saw, and sighed with 
satisfaction as the naked blindfolded man was pulled to 
his feet and led to the stone slab.

The drums began to beat their slow mournful rhythm and 
the priestess thrilled in anticipation of the coming 
ritual.

The handsome Chinese man was pushed down onto the cold 
stone while several disciples grabbed his wrists and 
ankles and spread him wide. They tied him to the four 
brackets that had been pounded into the stone for that 
purpose, all the while fighting against the struggling 
man's body.

The priestess watched silently as these tasks were 
performed, just as the ritual required. A disciple pulled 
a jug of warm oil from beside a low fire that was kept 
alive just for this purpose. The robed disciple walked 
over to the bound man and slowly tipped the jug until a 
fine string of warm oil began to flow out and onto his 
writhing nude body.

The priestess stepped forward and ran her hand through 
the flow of oil temporarily breaking the string's flow. 
Then she lowered her small hand to his chest and began to 
smear the oil over his golden flesh. She enjoyed the feel 
of his slick skin under her oil-coated fingers. And with 
a sigh of satisfaction she saw his manhood jump into life 
when she brushed her hand along one side of his still 
flaccid shaft.

The priestess intoned, "Disciple. Pour your essence oil 
directly upon his manly parts. Make him ready for the 
bringing ceremony."

Warren jumped at the sensation of flowing oil splashing 
onto his stiffening cock. Then he jumped again as a hand 
touched him and began to squeeze and massage it. Within 
seconds he was fully hard and as the small oil-coated 
hand continued to massage his cock-shaft Warren moaned 
quietly and involuntarily arched his back at the 
pleasurable sensations.

The disciples watched as the flame-haired priestess 
stroked the writhing Chinese man's tool into full flower. 
Soon it was straining for release, all covered with 
veins. Flesh expanding and retracing with each heartbeat. 
Blood coursing through his tool in an ever-quickening 
pulse. His manhood stood out quivering proudly, all pink 
and purple with blue veins, throbbing with the warmth of 
life.

The priestess slowly bowed over the prostrate Chinese man 
and brought the bulbous oil soaked head to her lips. She 
kissed it as though it were her lover. Fondling it as if 
it were her baby, caressing the shaft and finally sinking 
down on it to the root so that her painted lips were 
crushed against his wispy black pubic hair.

Warren involuntarily arched his back and moaned as he 
felt himself slide deep into a warm wet throat. Even 
though he couldn't see, he knew what was happening. Even 
through his blindfold he could see in his mind's eye the 
flame-red haired girl going down on him. The sensations 
welling up in him were amazing. 

Then the chanting began. Warren couldn't make out the 
words exactly. They sounded strangely muffled and then he 
realized that he had a bag over his head, oh god what is 
this? He wondered for the thousandth time.

The chanting sounded something like "Make him come, make 
him come," but Warren just couldn't be sure, the chant 
was just a little too indistinct.

But when he felt the fingers fumbling at his crotch and 
knees coming down on both sides on his hips he could 
guess what was coming next. All of a sudden Warren wasn't 
sure if he really minded being their captive. If it truly 
was the red-haired woman who'd tricked him, well, he'd 
wanted to fuck her anyway, so what difference did it make 
if a few people watched them doing it.

Warren groaned in pleasure as a warm wet cunt engulfed 
his stiff shaft sending wonderful shivers of delight 
through his body in delicious shooting spasms. And when 
she began to ride him in a rocking motion Warren couldn't 
help himself, he began to moan in pleasure and the girl 
atop his body began to pick up the pace.

 From somewhere in the distance and in the back of his 
mind, Warren heard a clock striking the hour. As the 
first strike sounded the girl on top of him gasped and he 
could tell that she was orgasming on his stiff member. It 
excited him to know the pleasure she was receiving from 
their union, and that brought him closer to his own 
orgasm.

The second strike and she lay over his body and shivered 
as her orgasm racked her body. He could feel her naked 
warm breasts heaving against his naked chest.

As the third strike sounded Warren heard her breathe into 
his ear, "Come for me baby, fuck me, make me pregnant 
with your child." The fourth strike sounded, and then the 
fifth.

The woman atop Warren began to rock back and forth on his 
stiff manhood, now screaming at him, "Fuck me, fuck me 
harder, come in me, come in me now!" The clock struck for 
the seventh time.

Warren was by this time on the verge of coming. At first 
he didn't know what to make of the woman's wild actions, 
but when she started screaming at him to come in her he 
just let go and began to thrust up at her cunt with his 
hard cock. She matched his rhythm as if it were the most 
natural thing that had ever been.

The clock struck for the eighth time.

It was just too much for Warren. The feeling of the 
woman's warm wet cunt wrapped around his cock, her small 
hands pressing against his chest as she wildly road him. 
It just felt too good.

The clock struck for the ninth time and Warren felt the 
final flush of passion pump out past his prostate gland 
and pulse up his cock shaft and into the warm wet 
receptacle of the priestess' grasping cunt. 

The clock struck for the eleventh time.

Warren groaned in ecstasy as he began to pump his come 
deeply into his partner's body. She was still riding him 
wildly, trying to milk him for everything he was worth.

Then in Warren's subconscious he heard the clock strike 
for the twelfth time. It wasn't an actual thought because 
all he was really thinking about at that moment were the 
wonderful feelings that the flame-haired woman's cunt was 
giving him.

When it had all begun Warren had been afraid. He'd been 
an unwilling captive. But now as he pumped the last few 
gushers of hot come into the priestess' body he was no 
longer an unwilling participant.

At that moment, in that nanosecond of time when Warren 
had become a willing participant, the knife slid home 
between his ribs into his heart. The knife was twisted 
expertly in the small fragile hand and then shoved 
deeper. 

Warren's manhood throbbed one last time and then he 
exhaled and was dead.

*

Minutes later the priestess was handing around the 
equally sliced pieces of Warren's still warm heart and 
they were all discussing the ritual and how well it had 
gone as they nibbled.

The priestess glanced over at Warren's cooling corps and 
smiled lovingly at him. He hadn't been a disappointment 
at all. Maybe if she hadn't become pregnant with his 
child, (which she hadn't in the past rituals) maybe she'd 
just try and find another Chinese man next year.

And if he'd made her pregnant and she was no longer the 
`Bringer of the Solstice," well she'd have her child to 
keep her company, and to take her place eventually.

S.A.T. Story site:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Kristen/www/sarah/index.htm

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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