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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: ritual.txt (MF, nc, bdsm, sacrifice)
Authors name: Sarah Anne Talley (webber78@hotmail.com)
Story title : Ritual
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2003. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial
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Thank you for your consideration.
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Ritual (MF, nc, bdsm, sacrifice)
Written by Sarah Anne Talley
(contact address: webber78@hotmail.com)
***
A Winter Solstice Story.
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
hers he 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.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 26