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Message-ID: <63606asstr$1447675882@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: RavensDrkGothic@aol.com
Full-name: RavensDrkGothic
Subject: {ASSM} The Rites of Spring
Lines: 299
Date: Mon, 16 Nov 2015 07:11:22 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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The Rites of Spring (M+,F+,Rape,  Torture)
 
    The gangplank that we walked over  from the ship to the shore, almost 
beckoning.  The rough planking on my  bare feet, grating at the soft soles of 
my feet.  Legs mechanically moving  to the lead step of the first woman in 
the coffle.  All the dresses of the  women, torn and dirty and greasy, 
whether made of finery or just coarse  cloth.  No maids to spruce up the ladies 
as they walk the bridge from ship  to shore.  The shock of the six day voyage 
registered in each face.   Disbelief, acceptance and hopelessness.  One 
emotion warring with another  as the line of women stop and stand woodenly on 
the dock, waiting for further  direction.
    Then with a snap of a whip, the line  plodding forward once again, 
winding its way slowly from the harbor streets to a  giant warehouse.  The large 
double door open and the smell of rotting fish  and other offal, now being 
substituted by the smell of unwashed bodies.   Not much of an improvement as 
the women shuffle into the dim light of the  cavernous building.  The 
torches showing pallets of straw used for bedding  and buckets of foul smelling 
waste in the back of the structure.  The  windows boarded up and the chill of 
the evening air causing the women to shiver  as they stand around waiting 
their turn at the anvil and the heavy smithy's  hammer striking the chain 
from each right ankle.
    A luke warm porridge of some  unfathomable gruel the supper for the 
night.  Luke warm for the first few  ladies, and cold for the last in the line. 
 Finding a pallet of lice ridden  straw and then curling up in the meager 
clothing on their bodies, to pass the  night and hopefully wake in the 
morning.  Many finding another woman to  share their straw and warmth as they 
cuddle close, not in a sexual embrase; but  in a life/death one.
    My raven black hair matted and filthy  as I pull my long skirt close to 
my fetal positioned body.  Not having made  any friends on the trip, and 
feeling that it is most likely is good to have no  feelings for this ill 
formed group.  Shivering with the gruel, like a lump  of lard in my stomach.  My 
insides growling and twisting as I lay in the  semidarkness of the huge 
building.
    The dawn bringing some light to the  huge room and bringing the 
slavers.  The women being rounded up and  forced to strip.  Standing waiting as a 
woman in a pure white shift walks  through the crowd, causing the women to be 
marked with white paint and then the  rest with black.  Separating the 
groups and then forcing the white group to  wash up and draped in  simple burlap 
dresses paraded through the streets  till they come to the temple of the 
fertility goddess,  Fructae. 
    Walking down into the catacombs  beneath, the women housed in a huge 
cavern with amenities of a basic  nature.  The long days, dragging into a week 
as the women wait for their  eventual sale on the block.  The matrons 
checking every woman each  day.  Then the matrons painting a red mark on fifteen 
women, myself  included.  All of us having finished our blood days within 
the last two  days.  The fifteen of us marked and remarked after each  bathing.
    The life boring as we eat sleep and  wash and exercise regularly.  All 
of us not  from this country and not knowing of the customs of this country. 
 As more  days pass the activity around the cavern increasing.  It being 
quite  obvious that something was about to happen.
    A squad of guards coming for the red  marked and leading us through a 
maze of walkways, ever spiraling upwards, till  finally being lead into a 
windowless room, brightly lit with torches in wall  sconces.  The heavy stone 
walls, covered with engravings cut into the  stone.  The center of the room, 
not easy to describe as it is a series of  stone blocks with graphic 
sculpture.
    A gasp from some of the women as they  identify the subject matter of 
the sculpture.  And moans from others that  not only identify the objects; 
but also understand the use of these items.   The stone cuttings from huge 
blocks of limestone.  The nature of the  sculptures erotic; but also endowed 
with more then true dimensions.  A  series of giant phallus' thrusting 
obscenely from the limestone  blocks. 
    The guards standing aside as the men  in the room turn their attention 
to the group of woman.  The woman directed  to strip their simple shift from 
their body.  Exposing their nakedness to  all as some demurely try to cover 
their pubic and breast area.  A handler  taking each woman under his 
control and making her his, as he proceeds to force  her to her knees and then 
force her to suck his cock to attention and then  kneeling behind her, fucks 
hers.  My handler using my  mouth to arouse his cock and then just fucking in 
me till his seed pumps into my  body.  Most of the women it seems are not 
virgins; but a  couple bled with this deflowerment.  Then left kneeling as a 
priestess  enters the rooms and surveys women kneeling naked and leaking male 
cum from  their private parts.
    Smiling as she walk around the room,  touching the cheek of one or the 
hair of another.  The women now exposed  totally and defenselessly.  The 
priestess in her white shift standing and  looking once more at the collective 
group of women of slaves.
    "Three days hence will be our  celebration to the goddess Fructae.  You 
will all participate and help us  celebrate,  The Rites of Spring.  It is a 
happy time and a time of  great joy and when the fields are planted with 
the hope of a year of  plenty.  Not only the seeds placed in the ground to 
grow and give us a good  harvest; but seeds planted in our people.  You slaves 
will be our aid in  our celebration in the temple and will be the maidens of 
our goddess Fructae,  receiving seed in her name to propagate our people.  
You will understand  better on the day of the celebration; but you will be 
trained here to be her  hand maidens on this day."
    "We are not in need of virgins; but  of women that will nurse the seed 
of our nation into a plentiful growth of  people and food.  And I can see we 
no longer have any virgins in this group  of fertile women.  You have been 
chosen, because you on the day of the  feast will have your best chance of 
conceiving and becoming an affirmation of  our future bounty."
    "Prepare these slaves for their role  in our future."  The woman 
slipping from the room as I feel a hand in my  hair, pulling me to my feet.  Then 
half leading, half dragging me to one of  the limestone blocks.
    "Mount the cock of our  goddess,"  the words filling my ears as the man 
grabs my waist and lifts me  onto the block.  The huge phallus jutting at 
and angle from the block of  stone.  The thick mushroom crown and long shaft 
curving into the rough  outline of a pair of thighs and groin.  A whip on my 
ass cheek from a short  crop, making me cry out in pain and shock.  "Now 
mount that cock."   Eyes taking in the scene around me, other women standing 
above the huge pricks  and being told to mount it like a cock on a man. 
    A gasp of shock and surprise as I  lower my body onto the shaft.  The 
stone dry and rigid as I touch my cunt  lips to the rough stone.  Eyes going 
wide as I feel the head parting my  labia and rubbing at the outer entrance. 
 The girth more then I have ever  attempted, much more.  The tip and hole 
on the top kissing my cunt, as I  feel the rough stone rubbing and abrading 
the soft yielding skin of my  pussy.  The crop again whipping my soft ass 
cheek, stinging on the flesh,  harder this time and then again.  Kneeling on 
either side of the long thick  cock and trying to lower my body onto the thick 
rigid shaft.  Hearing the  moans and gasps and screams of the other women 
as they are urged onto the  obscene male organs.
    Feeling the thick head penetrating my  entrance slowly as I lower my 
body weight to push the thick knob into my  body.  The cum leaking from my 
cunt acting as I sort of lubricant. as I  bite my lower lip in pain as I feel 
my walls now being pressed apart as the knob  fills more of my insides.  Eyes 
rolling back as I take more of the length  into my body.  My thighs 
trembling and shaking with the strain.  Eyes  rolling back in my head as the knob 
touches my cervix, presses in all of its  unyielding hardness against the 
opening to my womb.  Tears slipping down  from my eyes as I balance on my knees 
straddling the oversize cock.  The  rough dry surface of the shaft and 
head, rubbing my insides raw as I pull back  with direction from my handler and 
just hold the head in my cunt.  Again  and again, his crop forcing me down 
onto the shaft till the pain of the head is  too much for me to take.  My 
body covered with a sheen of sweat as the cock  fills and stretches my body.  
My whole body shaking.  Eyes opening and  seeing the other women straddling, 
poised in various states with the cock deep  or shallow in their bodies.  My 
eyes seeing red staining one of the stone  effigies.  Wondering if I am 
bleeding like that woman.  The burning of  my insides not just from the rough 
surface on my soft tissue; but from the  stretching of the cock on my tunnel.
    Slipping my hand to rub against my  pearl, almost forcing myself to 
arousal and a flow of moisture.  The steady  slaps of the crop on my ass cheeks 
urging me on the unyielding cylinder of  rock.  My hips and thighs pushing 
my body up and down the impaling finger  of rock.  Hearing the gasp and 
groans and screams as the flesh of the other  women responds to the cocks deep 
in their body. 
     Finally allowed to stop and not  ride the cocks, but feeling the 
fullness of the rough surface as my flesh  surrounds it.  Breathing hard as try 
to gauge the damage to my body as I  kneel over the upthrust stone.  The 
nipples of my small breasts hard and  thrusting from my chest, reaching down 
with one hand and feeling the coating of  moisture that is oozing down the 
untouched base of the shaft.  My hair damp  and stringy hanging wetly in clumped 
strands as my legs quiver with the  exertion.  Not even looking up as I 
feel the blunt fingers touching my clit  and massaging the moisture slipping 
from my private parts.  Afraid to relax  as I don't know if my body with press 
down more on the shaft or fall off to the  side and damage something inside 
of me.
    The respite temporary as we are again  forced to fuck the unyielding 
cock and then again.  My body feeling weak  and barely able to support myself 
as finally we are allowed to stop and slide  off of the ersatz cocks.  
Looking around and seeing at least red stains on  three of the phallus' and 
matching color on the thighs of the  women. 
    Finally being forced to lick around  the cock with our tongues and 
clean them of our juices.  My mouth dry and  tongue thick as I smell my scent on 
the thick shaft and head.  Standing on  wobbly legs and led back to our 
cavern.  My cunt lips bruised and swollen  and red from the rough grating on 
the porous stone.  My insides bruised and  sore and feeling stretched, my cunt 
gapping as I find a spot and lay on the  floor, curling into a fetal 
position and sob softly.  Hearing the other  women, most likely doing something 
similar as the other women try to question  us, fearing that on the morrow 
they will be the ones to endure this torture and  abuse.
    The second day a repetition of the  first day.  Only fourteen of us 
this time, one of the women not able to  rise up, even with a severe whipping 
to spur her up.  Unfortunately another  women picked to join our group, and 
as bad as the stone fucking is, the woman  screaming and writhing as she is 
impaled on the false cock.  Already having  heard of it from the women as we 
walk the long trek to the stone  room. 
    Returning from a second day of the  same abuse, our thighs black and 
blue and cunt lips swollen and distended.   Asses and this day breasts and 
thighs whipped to encourage us to fuck the  stones.  Smelling of sweat and fear 
and pain.........and my juices as they  flowed more freely this day.  Of 
course I massaged my clit and pussy to  encourage the flow.  Plus the handlers 
fucking us again to give us a small  amount of lubrication from their seed.
    The third day a repetition of the  second, our bodies aching and weary 
and bruised, but able to absorb the pain and  discomfort and able to handle 
the thick cock more easily.  The  priestess stopping in during the session 
to watch us riding the stone  cocks.  Wondering to myself if this perverted 
fucking has damaged the wombs  of any of the women. 
    The session done early and each of us  given a warm bath and clean 
shift.  The morrow is the feast and celebration  and we are ready to serve the 
goddess Fructae.  A restless sleep in spite  of the tiredness of body and 
spirit.  The morning coming early for us as we  are coated in scented oils.  
Hair tied back, eyes painted black and lips a  bright red.  The red also 
covering our breasts and cunt lips.  Our  shifts exchanged for abbreviated loin 
cloths of white and a wreath of flowers  place on our heads.  Baskets of 
grain seeds cradled in our hands as we are  lead upwards again to see daylight 
for the first time in weeks.  Then  joining a procession of priestesses, and 
free women and animals.  The sun  high in the morning sky as we troop around 
the temple and then move into it in a  procession.
    The temple looking more like a place  for a feast rather then a place 
for sacred rites.  Tables laden with food  lining the main aisle as we enter 
the huge stone building.  A marble  goddess sitting with a serene look on 
her face, body naked.  Her full  breasts heavy, and a long thick penis rising 
from between her legs.  This  be the goddess Fructae.  Along the walls less 
elaborate; but similar  likenesses carved in marble.   Six on either side.  
The handlers  from the room beneath meeting us as we lay the bowl of seeds 
at the foot of the  center statue.  Then being led to the side to stand next 
to one of the  idols.  The goddess benign in visage; but looking monstrous 
in sex  organ.  Feeling a beading of sweat under my hair as I look across at 
the  statue facing me.  The cock thick then the ones that we have been 
forced to  fuck the past few days.  Feeling a trembling in my legs as the 
handlers  move us into position on the laps of the statues, poised above the green 
marble  icons.  Seeing the fear in each of the women around me as I look 
down at  the thick knob of the aroused goddess.  A small hole in the end of the 
cock  where the piss hole would be.  Watching as the priestesses turn and 
watch  the continuing procession.  Women with bowl of some unknown substance, 
take  a brush and swapping it over the phallus'.  Coating them with what my 
 handler leans in and explains is seed, semen from horse and bull and ram 
and  boar and goat and dog and human, mixed together in a paste of seed to 
lube the  shafts of the statues.
    Our handler stripping our brief loin  cloths from us, instructing us to 
watch the main idol and do as the priestess  does.  The prayers prolonging 
the wait, and then watching one of the  priestesses in a snow white shift 
climb to the idol and stand poised as we are  on the lap.  Then with a 
clanging of gongs and the tolling of a big bell  high in the temple, the priestess, 
lowering herself, hands lifting her shift as  she impales herself on the 
phallus with a blood curling scream.  Watching  the raised whip, as I slip the 
thick cock head against my pussy and slam down  onto the marble cock.  The 
shock of practicing did not prepare me for the  increased size of this stone 
appendage.  My eyes going wide and a flush of  heat and pain filling my 
head as the knob slips into my tunnel, skewering me  onto the thick shaft, my 
legs almost collapsing as they shake with  weakness.  Hearing some of the 
girls screaming aloud with their self  impalement and the slaps of a couple of 
whips for women who  hesitated.
    Then angle of the cock inclined for  me to lay back onto the goddess, 
my legs splayed wide on the lap and my back  resting against the full 
breasts.  Finding foot rests on either side to  push myself up and down the thick 
rigid stone shaft.  My cunt becoming  accustomed to the girth that has my 
walls pressed open and the thick knob  pressing on my womb with each lowering 
of my body onto the thick mushroom  head.  Looking to the main statue and 
seeing the red flowering on the pure  white shift.  The virgin priestess, 
giving herself to the goddess.   Passed out impaled on the thick cock.  Watching 
as she is carefully lifted  off of her impaling prick and seeing the red 
between her legs and the stain on  the cock, slowly seeping down the shaft.
    The feast moving into full swing as  the people partake of the 
provisions laid out on the tables.  Some couples  fucking as the twelve statues 
continue to receive the adolation of the women  impaled on the cocks.  People 
laying food at the foot of the goddess,  men masturbating into bowls in the 
temple and out.  The bowls brought to a  central location under the temple and 
then poured into bladders made from  intestines and then squeeze up into 
the hollow cocks of the goddess.  The  semen being injected into the wombs of 
the women through the small cum slit  in the knob.  Fresh cum being shot 
into the women, the fertile women  steadily, as all want to be part of this 
ritual.  To supplement the supply  of  semen, seeds are ground into paste and 
the cum of animals are also  injected.  All that grows will come from the 
goddess.
    Sweat coating my body as I ride the  thick cock, the feeling of the cum 
being spewed deep into me a shock and then  welcomed as the moisture lubes 
the polished marble cock.  Hissing and  gasping, my body quickly being 
coated with cum as men and women shoot or spit  male seed onto my body. 
    The temple a riot of naked and  copulating bodies, a full scale orgy as 
anyone is free to fuck with anyone that  is in the temple.  Other then the 
priestesses.  The former virgin one  revived and again riding on the 
goddess.  The minutes turning to an hour  and then another.  My legs cramping as my 
cunt is spread wide as it engulfs  the thick prick.  A little wine offered 
to me by my handler to revived me  as I flag in my efforts.  That and the 
short whip that he uses on my body  to spur me on.  The ends of the whip 
having small metal tips inserted and  biting into my skin with each swing.  Blood 
drops spraying myself and the  goddess and the handler himself.  My breasts 
and stomach and thighs and  outer cunt lips little dots of punctured flesh. 
 Occasionally a scream from  me or one of the other women, overriding the 
noise of the revelry going on  around us.  Finally as the noontime 
celebration wanes into the late  afternoon.  each of the women faints from the 
continued exertion.   Passed out, by slaves now working the pricks, turning a 
geared wheel to fuck the  prick into the exhausted women, squirting more and more 
of the mixture of semen  in seed into the fertile vessels of the goddess 
Fructia.
    The wine having taken its toll as I  lay back and feel the 
uncomfortable and painful cock wedged deep in my pussy and  spraying seed against the 
entrance to my womb.  My body stained and coated  with blood and seed and 
spit.  Not even aware when the feast ends and we  are carried to a side building 
of the temple.  Slave girls cleaning us and  rubbing ointment on the gapped 
and bruised flesh of our cunts.  The small  hands sliding inside of us to 
assess the damage, permanent damage.  Then  being made comfortable and 
watched for the following day.  Being treated as  royalty, but for a reason as the 
priestesses want to make sure that the seed  injected in us is not washed 
out of our body.  The need to have us  pregnant, as much a part of the 
ceremony sacrifice of the priestess on the  phallus.  The omen of how well the 
crops and births will be for this year,  a sign of how many of the twelve women 
become pregnant. 
    Those women will be pampered till  they give birth and used again for 
the next years ceremony, the ones that are  not pregnant will be given to a 
low brothel to be used as the motherless whores  that they 
are.................Either way the women will serve to ease the  needs of the males as a 
vessel of seed..... 
    
    
    
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