The Priests of Ka-zogSubmitted by: Nova
Just as Karnon spent his seed into the heaving body of Alura, one-time priestess of Ka-zog the Terrible, a voice thundered and lightning split the sky. Karnon dismounted, cursed, and went looking for his loincloth, which had been thrown into the bushes sometime before. Just as he found it the voice ceased howling and spitting and started to speak.
"KARNON!!! Why have you dared to face my wrath? You defiled my follower, now die in my fury!"
Karnon looked up at the horned face outlined in the clouds, paled at the baleful stare. "I did not know there were gods so near," he shouted back at the creature. "I meant no harm! She was just a casual dalliance!"
A shoe hit him in the head. Now Alura was fuming too, swishing her tail in white-hot anger. She was a pretty Centaurish priestess with multiple assets, but none of them was intelligence.
"Bodies are meant to be enjoyed," cried Kazog. He couldn't find his loincloth.
At this last, the being turned purple with rage and began shouting again. "SILENCE, MORTAL! I have come to a decision. I lay this curse on you; only that you travel to Callicantzar. On foot. But in a form of MY choosing! This will not be easy, and perhaps show you what true desire feels like."
Karnon breathed a sigh of relief. But the voice was still thundering.
"Every need that you could possibly have will be provided for- but one. On your journey you will not hunger, nor sicken, nor die. But for your lustful crime your curse is thus: You will have no chance of sexual relief, though desire remains. The seed you produce will accumulate within you with no means of escape, there is no limit to how much you will swell. Though gifted with the best body a male could ask for, all people will shun you unless you repent and bring an offering to my high temple, and then you may find relief only if a female of the right breed and of pure descent agrees to service you. For by then, a service it will surely be! As for my servant, I will deal with you later." A cascade of mocking laughter was all that the god-being left in the air. Alura was gone as well.
Karnon found himself on the road to Callicantzar, though the city was too far away to be seen. Misty hills lay in front of him, and he knew himself to be weeks, if not months away from the city. He looked down, and found himself in the body of a centaur. It was well-muscled and fit, with only a few odd tattoos marring the chest and arms. This is not so bad, as curses go, he thought. He even had his sword and provisions, and he felt fit and strong. And he had gone without physical pleasures for long stretches before, too- that would not be too hard. Whistling, he trotted down the road, taking full advantage of his horse body.
Along the way he fantasized about Alura. She had been just the right height for him to stand behind and bang to his heart's content, not too tall and not too short. Easy on the eyes, too. Too bad she was such a holier-than-thou fanatic. She said the vows were too much to take, whatever those were, and she was in serious need of relief. He had been just what the healer ordered, a tall, good looking two-legged adventurer with a nice smile. Apparently she found him exotic. And she'd been more than eager. Desperate, even. She had climaxed several times before he'd gotten off even once, and begged for more. He felt a pleasant throbbing in his loins even though he had just finished with her. Ah well, it wouldn't be too far to go. And when he got there, he vowed to more than make up for his involuntary abstention.
Life was good for the next few days. Though he hardened when thinking of a particularly interesting female, it was a temporary thing that was not troubling. It was even pleasant to let his desire build up, instead of taking care of it immediately. He was used to climax at least twice a day, sometimes more, depending on the mood and the opportunity. But the fullness in his groin was rather stimulating in its own way, especially without a loincloth to constrain him. The feel of the breezes on his exposed shaft was rather fun, actually. He ate well and slept deeply at night, though he was beset by dreams of winsome maidens that ignored him. But he made good time and thought that he only had a few weeks to go at this pace. Strangely, there were no other travelers on this road. And he was sure he had never heard of a road along this route before.
After a week, though, he noticed a constant tension in his loins. In addition, something was rubbing between his haunches, occasionally hanging lower and bumping against his thighs in an odd way. Curious, he went and stood near a calm pool of water that her could use as a mirror. Craning his neck and spreading his hind legs apart, he thought that his firm, round pouches looked rather large.. They were already drawn up tight and tense against him, and he had not even been thinking in a way that would have caused it. His member was stiff, protruding most of the way out of his sheath. He itched to caress himself and relieve the tension, as he had so often done before. With his awkward horse body, that was quite impossible. His arms were far too short to reach. Oh, well, he thought. It is only a few weeks to the city, after all, and it's not too bad yet. I've suffered worse with teasing girlfriends. Some punishment, Ka-zog! You will have to try harder than that! Nonetheless, from then on he walked a little slower, which stopped the odd feeling. The weather was fine and the miles passed smoothly under him.
By the middle of the second week he had reached the foothills. He was also erect all the time and his pouches chafed against him with every step, no matter how slowly he walked and how far apart his feet were. The firm roundnesses were still tight and high, nestled snug against his body, but now they were more then twice their original size. Although the needy tip of his organ looked red and moist, nothing ever dripped out no matter how much it throbbed and twitched. It did that quite a bit now, and he decided to do something about it for he had never been this aroused in all his life. His constant erection was threatening to drive him mad, never giving him any peace. He tried in vain to reach it with his hands. Then he tried rubbing against things, but the only things available were rough wood and gritty stone and that made him sore. If only I had a nice, soft, silk pillow... He got best results when he twitched his back legs, slapping the meaty shaft against his belly, but this made him tired and his pouch sore.
By the third week he was desperate to find relief, so swollen were his pouches. They were hot and bursting and many times their normal size, so much fluid had he produced in response to the constant stimulation and the nightly dreams. In each one, he would enter a willing female and thrust, at first slowly and then madly as she writhed eagerly under him. But every time as he was about to finally explode into her he would awake, sweaty and too painfully aroused to think straight or relax enough to sleep again. And every time he woke up he felt a little more weight under him and a little more hot, hard flesh bumping against his legs. He now walked with stilted steps, his hind legs held wide apart, his tail lifted high to avoid brushing against his tight, sensitive skin.
At night whenever he could he waded into a cool lake or stream. It helped to ease the swelling and numbed him enough to allow some relaxation. It also helped support his heavy bag, packed tight as it was with his imprisoned desire. But in the morning he had to leave the water again in order to travel, and his organ commenced throbbing with renewed vigor. It rubbed against his stomach when he walked, stimulating him cruelly but never quite enough to let him release himself. His tense and crowded pouches swung from side to side with every halting step, heavily slapping against his thighs like two overfilled wineskins.
I don't need a female, I need to be milked! he thought one day as he traveled wearily down the road. Suddenly he thought of the time he had forgotten to milk the family cow, who had come after him as he slept on a pile of straw. She had bellowed in anger as her bag swelled with unaccustomed load. Now he wished he'd gotten up earlier that day and felt sorry for her. As it was, she'd hit him in the head with the milking pail... and dazed, he'd gone to her and relieved her burden. She'd walked off, empty and contented, and he envied her now. He would kill now for a girl with gentle hands. But there were none, so he blocked all discomfort out of his mind and willed himself to walk at a normal pace, concentrating only on reaching his destination. All was blotted out except the steady clopping of his hooves.
After a few hours, he began to feel odd inside. Thinking the new fullness meant his control was slipping, he redoubled his efforts and walked even faster. It got worse, though, until he sloshed when he walked and felt sharp pains above the usual dull aching. He gritted his teeth and began to trot, forcing his lust-addled mind into a state of determined non-thought..
Toward nightfall he stopped for a rest. He looked back toward where he had come and was shocked to see a long line of wet spots on the road. His body raged with need, and he felt a fiery ball of something inside him, something that threatened to burst free at any moment. He tried to relax himself and felt a squirt of warm liquid soak the head of his pulsing organ. Could this be the end of the curse? he wondered, almost delirious with need.
Quickly he began bouncing up and down, gasping aloud as the force of his need battled against his body's pain. His achingly rigid shaft thumped up against his body again and again, and the hard hot ball inside him jolted alarmingly. He bounced harder, thinking of all the desirable females he had ever known. Then he felt something move inside and a pressure begin to surge outward, and a hot flood shot straight out of him and splattered several feet in front of him. The flow lessened, but still poured out in a steady stream. Slowly, he emptied, agonizingly so as it had only a small slit to flow through, which was even smaller due to the unnatural swelling of his organ. At times he thought it would close up, prayed to all the gods that he knew (except Ka-zog) that it wouldn't, but the flow continued until there was no more to be let out. Now he felt almost whole again, content and relaxed. But then he moved a leg, and the hypersensitive organ thrust in vain against his stomach. He moaned, head down in despair. He was exhausted. Unable to rest from this constant ravening desire, he hoped that he would reach Callicantzar soon. Slowly, though, he stiffened his legs and staggered along the dusty road.
Too weary to judge the passing of time, he had no idea as to how long he walked. But eventually he saw a small hut far off along the distance. His pouches allowed only tiny steps now, for they had gotten larger even as he walked. He wanted to reach the hut before night came, for perhaps the people there could give him aid. This was the first house he remembered seeing near the road, and the thought of people that might have soft, smooth hands to ease him with made him move faster.
As slowly as he had to walk, he was not able to reach the hut. Instead he lowered himself on a heavy stump to ease the weight on his forelegs and allow him to push his back legs apart. Even this much comfort sent him to sleep almost at once.
Karnon awoke to wetness and rubbing on his tender skin, as gentle hands washed and rubbed his pouches and inner thighs. His hips were thrusting shakily in response to her touch. He looked around behind him, and saw an old, old faun female.
She looked at him with pity. "You're in sad shape, surely," she remarked. "Let me help you."
She already was helping, but he only nodded and closed his eyes. The wet cloth moved slowly and carefully, washing the dirt of the road from the taut, twitching skin. The coolness felt wonderful against his rock hard flesh, and he wished it would go on forever. When she reached his bulging maleness, he shuddered but kept silent. The feeling was indescribable when she rinsed him with long, firm strokes. A touch more pressure and he would spurt, he was sure of it. But he lacked the strength to move or speak.
She patted his flank. "Hold still, this needs to be done. I promise I won't take long."
He wanted her to take as long as she liked, but was still mute as he felt his sensitive, hungry head rubbed and rubbed and rubbed, until he almost went into oblivion. Then he felt something cool and slippery on his burning, veined shaft, and that was rubbed into him as well, especially in the place where its unnaturally swollen girth pressed into his stomach. Eyes closed, he made small mewing noises deep in his throat. He gritted his teeth, and his hips thrust uncontrollably against her hand. It was more than he could bear.
"This will numb you in a few minutes," she said. "You can travel again after it takes effect." The salve was now being applied to his pouches. She used up half the pot just easing the friction between his legs. "I'm almost done," she said comfortingly. She bent down and got some soft cloth strips. She wrapped these firmly around his aching orbs, then passed them up over his rump in order to ease the swinging and allow him to more easily bear their substantial weight. Finally, she draped a blanket over his back and tied it on, completely hiding his deformed organs. She smiled in satisfaction. "Although I cannot lift your curse, I can at least ease your discomfort a bit. Ka-zog and I do not agree on all things." As he was about to ask who she was and why she lived here, she slapped him on the rump and waved him along. "Go on now. Callicantzar is only a few day's travel away, now, so travel as far as you can before that salve wears off!"
He nodded, waved a hand in thanks, and trotted away. Feeling a blessed numbness fill the space between his legs, he sighed in relief. Since the fire in his loins was doused to a smolder for the moment, he summoned enough strength to gallop. Racing along the road, he noticed that the wrappings were keeping his bursting bags to the center of his body, instead of wildly swinging in all directions. And even though the salve had done its job, he still felt a terrible urgency within him. If there were a suitable female right here, he thought, I would not be able to control myself. And then he had a horrible thought. I am so big, what female could relieve me? Not even a centaur would suffice.
He galloped until he could gallop no more, then slowed to a trot, then to a walk, then to a trot again. When he was to tired to move further, he simply rested where he was and then started galloping again. The salve eased his journey for the next two days and midway into the third. By the time his need reasserted itself, however, he was able to see the turrets of Callicantzar. There were travelers on the road now, who gave him strange glances when they saw his oddly slow steps. Many shied away from him when his blanket happened to slip, exposing the sweaty and mud stained wrappings beneath. Luckily, he saw no female centaurs.
When he finally passed through the gates of Callicantzar, he could hardly believe he was there. He looked around, eagerly searching for Ka-zog's temple. Angry as he was at the god, he was desperate to relieve his suffering. So he asked a traveler that was passing, and found out that the temple was nearby in a small stone hall. He immediately started to hobble in the indicated direction.
After a few more weary hours of painstaking travel, he finally found the temple he had waited so long to find. Though the structure was small and worn, the steps were wide, having been constructed for centaurs, and the place was clean and shining. An elderly centaur came to greet him.
"Do you bring a sacrifice?" she asked in a raspy but strong voice. Karnon's loins clenched at the sight of even this old priestess.
He forced his voice to steadiness. "I was sent here by Ka-zog as punishment for a misdeed," he said. "However I have nothing to give for sacrifice. Name a task and I will do it to the best of my ability." He knew he had to be polite or offend the god any further. "Please, Priestess, I am in great suffering."
She laughed mockingly. "What suffering? You look healthy enough to me." She looked closer at his chest and arms. "Wait a moment. Let me translate these runes." As she ran her fingers over the sigils, he tried not to fidget. But his throbbing member refused to give him a moment's peace as it jiggled and shook beneath him.
Finally she was done, and she looked at him strangely. "It seems you are a Chosen One. Forgive the delay." She walked around him, looking carefully. "Yes, I think you will do well. We will give you favor, if you give a sacrifice."
He was desperate now. "But what can I give? I have nothing."
She laughed. "Ah, but you do. Come this way."
Karnon gladly followed her to the inner room, where a drapery hid something in the center. Other centaur priestesses, all young and slender, stood in a circle around them. His pouch tightened excruciatingly and his thighs twitched involuntarily.
The old one said nothing but walked around him three times and then stood behind him. In a loud voice, she shouted "I prepare the sacrifice!" then tore off Karnon's tattered but concealing blanket. She then bent down and unwound the strips that held his pouches in place. They were stretched to the point of falling off anyway, but he wanted to hide himself from their probing eyes. Am I to be the sacrifice? he wondered, and resolved that even death was better than a life of eternal need.
His bloated organs were then washed and oiled, the dust of the road cleansed from his burning body. Gentle but firm hands kept him from rearing and plunging himself into one of the many attendants who brushed quite close to him at times. Their scents were driving him mad. Soon he lost track of what was going on around him, so focused was he on his raging needs. Finally they were done with their various ministrations. With a final chant, they drew the draperies aside, exposing a stone sculpture of a large centaur female, hands held as if in prayer. Looking at her idealized features, Karnon felt himself responding to her as if she were alive. She was beautiful in every way, if slightly larger than normal. He felt himself being pulled, so he walked unsteadily toward her. He was led around behind the statue and up stairs until he was standing just behind her rump, a little above her level.
The head priestess called out in a tone of finality "Make your sacrifice!"
Karnon had no idea what to do. He stared at the perfect marble rump in front of him, noticing that the cleft between the haunches was larger than normal and the inner lips were spread apart. He also noticed that the tail was curved to one side, allowing easy access to the stone hole. Was he supposed to mount this? he wondered. His pouches spasmed, the muscles making them bump higher against his legs. The stone looked smooth and cool. Perhaps it would work.
The attendants watched expectantly. He made his decision, as his member throbbed and shook at the sight of the smooth rump. Stiffly, he raised his forelegs and mounted the statue. His organ was too long for easy insertion, however, and it bent when he tried to get closer. His bad aim caused his swollen head to rub against the inside of her leg, and he felt it grow slick against his inflamed skin. He moved back and tried again. This time he grazed her inviting opening, but slid away just as he found it. A tear of frustration squeezed out of one eye.
Now he started further away, and felt around for the spot before moving closer. At last he got the engorged tip into the hole, then moved carefully until he was firmly in. But he was too big and could not enter right away, so he contented himself with rubbing the sensitive skin up and down on the outside of her. Large drops began seeping from his tiny slit, oiling the end of his organ and making it slippery. Soon he found that he could enter further. He rubbed faster, ignoring the chafe as his bursting pouches moved urgently between his haunches. Now more of the channel was wet. He shut his eyes tightly, letting out a strangled groan as he forced a few inches of his turgid length into the tight hole. The stone, though smooth, was hard and unyielding against him. He took half a step forward. Now more of his weight was supported on the broad back. He pushed in and out, his shoulders shaking with the force of his consuming need. His aching shaft twitched and spurted, and he pushed in even further. Somehow, the channel felt wider now and his shaft did not feel so cruelly pinched. With a final effort, he thrust until his pouches rested against her back legs. Having gone in all the way, he felt the end of her chasm as well. With each push his swollen head rubbed against it, bringing wonderful shocks throughout his body.
Heedless of how his hard pouches slapped and sloshed against her harder back legs, he drove himself into her with more and more force.. There was no thought, no reason left in his mind except for his body's imperative drive. The tight caress of the rapidly heating stone lent speed to his haunches as he shoved and shoved and shoved into it. Within a few moments, he felt as if the stone was turning to soft, welcoming flesh that gripped him tightly and urgently. He thrust even faster, and it seemed that the rump he was mounting had turned warm beneath him. Soon his pouches bumped against a soft, yielding, comforting surface and the pain in them eased. Likewise, his congested shaft ceased its burning and was soothed. The stretched muscles that let his pouches hang below his hocks strengthened, bringing them up to a more comfortable position.. They still would not fit between his thighs, but they swung less wildly now. Now there was no doubt that his member was being gripped and stroked and rubbed and swallowed further into the slippery depths.
The sensations grew until they made him nearly black out, then he finally got what he had suffered so much to get. It started as a tickle deep in his loins, a surge within his pouches, and a frantic throbbing deep within his member. Then his whole body shuddered. He thrust forward, spewing wave after wave into the hungry, gulping channel. He let out a howl of relief and triumph as his pouches forced a thick flood through his organ. His bag had been swollen to the point of bursting for so long that the contents were caked and compacted, but some magic liquefied them just enough to allow an escape through the thin opening.
After a few more minutes of rapid thrusting, Karnon's climax ceased. But his bag was still slowly unloading, and he felt a shock of pleasure every time he fired another thick, viscous glob deep into the statue. But it was not only a statue anymore- as the attendants watched, the stone was slowly coming to life. Now the marble haunches were warm and yielding, and the tail had turned into silky hair. Every time another spasm filled Karnon, a little more stone turned to living flesh. Already he could move his legs to a more comfortable position, but his bag was still uncomfortably full and enormous in size. Not even close to being sated, he thrust faster and was rewarded by another climax. He continued in this way until after dark, spurting constantly but reaching ecstasy every few minutes. When his pouches were half the size they were before, he felt his member losing length, as he did not have to thrust so far. But it seemed that the channel that welcomed him was shrinking as well, so he did not mind. Slowly, he emptied, and slowly, the statue became flesh. He felt nearly exhausted when all that was left was the face and the top of the head. But his pouches were full against his inner thighs and his member throbbed even more eagerly, so he gave his all for one last attempt. Now he entirely covered the strong back, and it felt warm under him. Resting on her strength, he gyrated his hips slowly, then quickly, then slowly again. His excitement like fire in his loins, he pushed in and out even more quickly than before, his pouches staying high and tight and his member swelling and twitching again. Small spurts still escaped his slit, and he welcomed even that slow release. He had been dammed up for too long. Just then, the head in front of him moved and the arms lowered. The rump under him began matching his motions, and in a few moments he felt her clamp around his organ again and again, causing him to explode in one giant, final burst of energy and wetness. Then, for the fist time in over a month, he felt his shaft go limp and retreat into its protective sheath. He slumped over her in relief, then withdrew just as she shook herself and asked where she was. He was immediately led away, walking on unsteady legs.
He awoke in a warm bed, with noon light streaming in through a skylight. He was still in the temple, and he was surprised to find himself in his human body again. His sword and loincloth and other belongings waited for him on a low table. Better yet, his pouches were firm but not aching and his member lay soft and long on his thigh. He was pleasantly satiated. He stretched, got up, and girded himself with loincloth and sword.
Presently a priestess came into the room, bearing food. "Greetings, Honored One. Please accept this meal in the name of Ka-zog."
Karnon fought back a curse at the mention of the god, but kept his expression mild. "What sort of religion do you practice?"
The girl looked a little worried, then smiled. "Ka-zog is our god of self-control, the Lord of Pain and Delight. If you were any other, I could not tell you about us. You are, after all, a two-legger. But as an initiate, you deserve to know us better. Eat, and later you will be taken to be with the priests."
A thousand questions clamored to be asked, but Karnon held his tongue. His ordeal had indeed taught him the value of patience. He ate the simple food and waited for his enlightenment.
"Our lives are dictated by the needs of Karnon and by his holy laws," the priestess was saying. "The needs of the flesh must not be allowed to rule, but saved up and released according to the position of the stars and moons. Females are allowed release only when with the males, or at the great Moon Festival. Our lives center around using our sexual energy to effect change and blessing in the world, and for this we must suffer." She twitched her tail, and Karnon noticed a band that went around the base, holding some object in place. She saw him look, and smiled. "During the day the females show devotion by closing their Gates of Comfort with these holy plugs. This way no male can be tempted to break his vows, no matter how great his need is. By night we are kept away from all males and allowed to remove the plugs, which simulate the shape of a small male member so as to keep the opening tight. It is because we are ruled by the night. Males are ruled by the sun, however, and are allowed a measure of freedom in the daytime. The priest will tell you more." At that, she took him to a high gate and left him.
Karnon opened the gate and went inside. There was a wide, open yard in which centaur males milled about. All had massive erections that dangled and slapped beneath them as they moved about. A priest approached Karnon.
"Why are you here, Chosen One?"
"I wanted to know more about what you believe. The priestess said I could come here."
"Ah. She must have told you about the female's way, and sent you here to learn of the male way. Ours is a religion of balance. All must be in equal measure. As an example, witness our proud arousal. We only release our seed at the proper times of the year, as the plants do. At all other times we are contained, by iron will during the day, and by equally iron bindings by night. In this way we do not need to guard against spilling our holy seed during the night, for it can never get past the bands that hold us closed. By day, we learn the value of control as our desires leap within us, threatening to overcome us always. Our greatest adepts allow themselves to be stimulated continually, growing bigger and bigger but always holding themselves in.
"By the same token, we eat during the day and fast at night, and only empty our bodies during the day, under the cleansing light of the Daystar. As the women plug themselves during the day, so we do so at night. Our need-pain brings greater glory to Ka-zog."
Karnon stayed with the priests all that day, watching as they worked and went through their daily rounds. As evening fell, they all lined up for a last ‘watering of the fields' and then strapped each other into the harnesses. A male would stand with his legs apart as a bowl of icy water immersed his genitals, causing the throbbing engorgement to recede. As soon as he was as small as he could get , tight bindings were wrapped around the base of his shaft and tied off. Other cords spiraled around his length, as tight as the helper could pull without injuring him. The shriveled organ was then allowed to return to its sheath, and that too was tied closed. When the last virile male was tied off, all of them went to their rest.
In the middle of the night, the youngest among them began to fidget in his bed. He had drunk too much during the evening meal, and was not yet used to his bindings. He had only been a novice for a few months. The discipline was proving to be harder than he had thought it would be. He tried his best to keep quiet and let the others rest, but eventually he got out of bed and stood in a corner, letting his upright position ease his discomfort. He watched the window anxiously, counting the minutes until dawn.
When the first glimmer of light appeared over the walls, the young initiate went to the elders, shaking them awake. His need was too great for formalities.
"Please, Elder. The sun rising. Will you untie me?" His back legs were quivering.
The elder rose from his bed and snorted. "You have learned a lesson tonight, I think," he mused, moving to untie the bindings. Seeing the young one fidget, he said "You must learn self control and patience. When you are freed, you may water a tree, but it must be the one over there." He pointed to a tree that was planted across the courtyard. "And you must walk."
He felt the blood rush back into his member as the cords were undone, then warm hands rubbed the circulation back into it. It was all he could do to avoid letting his stream flow immediately, so long had he waited. His member was agonizingly stiff with the effort. He bowed to his elder, wanting desperately to gallop to the tree. It took his last shred of will to walk all the way across the courtyard to the spreading oak tree. But it was a fast walk.
The relief, when it came at last, was bliss. He stood there a moment, glorying in the sensation of just being empty. Then he cocked his tail and let a fresh, steaming pile go too. Trotting back to his brethren, he was pleased with himself and with them. He was from a farming family and was glad to have a priestly life rather than one of backbreaking toil. It was hard to hold in his desire, especially when the scent of a pretty young girl reached his nostrils, but he liked the powerful feeling of contained arousal it gave him. He felt stronger than other males, constantly rampant, supremely virile. It had been months since he had last found release and it was getting rather difficult to bear. His organ was full and hard underneath him even now. But with no open females or compassionate friends to relieve him, it was no longer a matter of choice. It would become easier, in time. He knew beyond a doubt that he would bring great glory to Ka-zog one day.
"There you are, Aram," said the elder who had released him. "Get your food and make ready. We have a great festival today, in honor of the service the Chosen one did for us."
"What is that, Honored One?"
"Today we will Bless the Community, to pass along the great fortune we have been given."
"How will we do that?"
"You will see, young Aram, you will see."
The elder's smile was just a little nerve-wracking for the lad, but he held his peace.
The festival started out as a parade through the streets. They had baskets of seeds and pollen which they were scattering on the houses, the streets, the gardens. This seemed simple enough to Aram until he saw a lovely young maid heading straight for him. She bent low and reached... straight for his member, which was swollen to its fullest extent.
"What is she trying to do to me?" he whispered to his friend, Brother Elis. He was already so desperately aroused that he was afraid her slightest touch would unman him, disgracing the Order in front of everyone.
"We are the Bringers of Life," he whispered back. "They touch us... for luck. Don't worry about it."
"What if I..."
"That probably won't happen. You'll see. But if it does, it's a blessing. For both of you."
Aram's heart leapt as her soft, gentle hands caressed him. They passed lightly along his fevered flesh once, twice, and again... his hips were starting to move... and then she was gone, dancing off to bring the luck back home.
"See what I mean? Three ritual strokes. No more, no less." The brother was panting, his erection magnificent. Large milky drops were welling out of the scarlet tip, beginning to drip on the road. Many young ladies, and a few older ones, were coming up to him to ‘share the luck.' "It's been a long time since my last Planting. It won't be so hard for you, but for me..." he closed his eyes for a moment, fighting the urge to mount something. "Just remember not to touch back. That's the main thing. Just scatter the seed... and hope Ka-zog will show mercy on you."
Many dancing fingers gentled Aram's maleness, each taking the ritual three strokes. Enough time passed between each touch that he never managed to come to completion. His senses were spinning, his body raged with need. He scattered the seed on the ground, blessing the growing crowds, feeling the god-fire spread from his loins throughout his body. The Sun above burned his skin, inflaming him further, until at last he felt ready to explode at the very next instant. He just needed three firm strokes from an experienced hand and his release would be complete... but there were none. He was passing through a rural area with many gardens and few houses. Gradually his arousal damped down a bit but the burning ache remained.
The brother was walking unsteadily, obviously in pain. Has face was flushed and his member an angry red. He looked feverish. "Just one more month till my next Planting," he said with a forced smile. "I seem to be popular today."
"H-how will you ever wait that long?" It was already difficult for Aram to imagine waiting one more hour for his release, to say nothing of a month. Before joining the priesthood, he and his friends had spent many happy hours pleasuring each other in any ways they could think of. Farm folk tended to be lusty by nature, and he was no different.
"You get used to it," he said. "Eventually the need-fire just gives you power. But it isn't easy. Nothing worthwhile ever is."
"Over here, Holy One," said a mellifluous female voice. "Oh, you're a pretty, young holy one, aren't you?" She was tall and golden-maned and smiling. Her eyes sparkled with secret delight as she laid her hand on his flank to stop him.
His flesh trembled at her touch. and his loins clenched, the hot seed churning inside his aching organs. "Thank you..."
"Would you grant me a blessing, Holy One?" She dropped a gold piece in his basket. It clinked against other coins he had gathered that day, but they were only silver. She must want a very special blessing. "Here, I will help you feed the poor, and you will help me feed my family." She led him over to her garden, which looked shriveled in the sun. "Won't you help me?"
Aram couldn't speak, couldn't think. Her sight and scent were intoxicating, like the very image of the Moon Goddess herself. One touch of those delicate hands would send him over the edge. But he craved more, far more, than just the three ritual strokes. If he could only lose himself in those inviting depths, so tantalizingly visible just under her tail when she turned around..! He watched her kneel so she could reach beneath him.
"You are so strong and ripe with seed," she said. "Surely you will bless my crops well this year."
Her hands closed on him. They were firm and strong, yet soft. His member surged in their grip, pulsing with life and new hope. The fingers caressed his testes, squeezing gently, weighing them. They gripped him at the base of his shaft, squeezing and releasing again and again, moving tantalizingly slowly. It gave the effect of many small strokes that only counted as one, by the rules of the Blessing. They gentled his heated length, rubbing out to the tip, swirling around the head and playing in the slippery offering that dripped there. When Aram thought he was going to explode with even that one inexorable stroke, they began moving and rubbing and squeezing all the way back to his base again. There was a surge in his loins, a gathering flood... and then when her hands began pulling up toward his glans again he felt a scalding stream gush forth, easing the load of the months of denial since his joining the Order. The first burst came out in one great glob that shot far between his fore-feet. The second ritual stroke half done, she rubbed his own moisture into the shaft on the return trip, again squeezing his testes and easing more fluid out of the tip. She squeezed hard on the last stroke, vibrating her hands, feeling the final surge rise up the shaft to splatter all over her garden and enliven the new growth there. The stroke ended where it had begun, at the base of his twitching shaft, gentling him and comforting him in his release. Getting up, she rubbed her sticky hands on a stalk of corn and smiled at him again. "Thank you for the blessing, Child of the Sun."
He nodded in mute thanks, still shivering from the intensity of his release. "M-may the Sun shine upon you," he said, and trotted back toward his brother.
"You were... most lucky," said Brother Elis when Aram returned. "I too wish for a blessing like that. It would be a great service for both of us. But I think I will not come ripe till the next Planting... a pity, I feel plenty ripe now!" He was indeed, in fact he was ready to burst from the mere sight of the woman who was now returning to her fields. He could not stop staring at the dusky lips that peeped out from under her long, golden tail. Relief was so close, and yet so far away...
Soon the others caught up with them, and no comment was made of Aram's slight lack of arousal. It was quickly rejuvenating as a fresh crowd of maidens descended upon them. A daring few made the three ritual strokes with their tongues. "Why are they doing that?"
"They want children," gasped Elis, "and this is supposed to help." HIs eyes, dark with lust, said that he could think of far better ways to give them children. It was plain that he was hanging on to control by the edges of his fingernails. He groaned as two of them licked him at once, and made the blessing gesture with shaking hands. One large spurt escaped him, and it landed on their dueling tongues. His hips pumped a few times after they left him, his weeping slit begging for more attention that never came. They only had a few more blocks to go and then they finally reached the gates of the enclave.
Aram's eyes widened as he saw a priest actually mounting one of the followers... he thrust several times and she climaxed quickly and loudly, shuddering under him. His face was serene, as if in meditation, and when he dismounted his shaft was still darkly turgid. There was no evidence that he had spent himself. He had heard of this one, who could do almost anything and not release his seed unless he willed it. The young priest couldn't imagine having that kind of control. Could it be that the older one had held back so long that he was no longer capable? His imposing erection seemed to disprove that theory, as did the huge, bulging sac between his thighs. Then his thoughts returned to the lovely flaxen-haired maid and her vegetable garden.
"That was... interesting," said Aram. "I hope the people are lucky this year."
Elis had nothing to say, but he took comfort that he was performing his duty well. It was the only comfort he had that day. Aram drank less at dinner and slept well that night. But Elis had to be soaked twice as long before his member would shrink. He looked forward to his next planting with a fanaticism that bordered on madness.
Life in the Temple of Ka-zog went on as usual for quite a few weeks after that. Aram studied hard and Elis... stayed hard. Karnon eventually left to be with his people, washing his hands of the whole business. The statue that he had brought to life regained her health and rose up into the sky as mate to Ka-zog. And then one day a small, old, very stooped faunish female entered their compound. No-one took any notice when she walked through the gate, thinking she was just another beggar looking for alms. Despite her impoverished appearance, there was a dignity about her that belied that. And she was looking for something,
"Where is the traveler that came by a month or so ago?"
The priestess was polite but baffled. "Do you mean... the Chosen One?"
"Yes. The Chosen One. Was he sent away, or did he fulfil his task?"
"Yes... the Moon Maiden was restored. And he went away."
She was baffled. By tradition, a Chosen One who had fulfilled his goal would be treated to a life of luxury. "Why did he go away?"
"He said he was... bored."
There was nothing else for it, then. The old one felt herself fill with power. "So where is the Moon Maiden?"
"She blessed us with her presence for a while, then went up In the sky to be with Ka-zog."
"Thank you." She turned on her hoof and went into the courtyard. She stood taller with each passing step. There, in the yard, were the poor priests... their organs full and extended and in desperate need of gentle touch. She seethed inside at the sight. Bodies were meant for enjoyment! It was wrong to channel their natural desires to feed some perverse god... and she meant to do something about it. She spied a priestess carrying a jug of water. Her tail twitched uncomfortably and her bindings obviously chafed her.
"Come here, child."
"What is it, elder?" The maiden trotted over, her hair shining, her eyes bright, her ears pricked forward attentively.
"Would you like to be free?"
"Only if Ka-zog wills it," she said, but it was obviously a rote response. She was as much in need of penetration as the males were, judging by the erect state of her nipples and the flush in her face.
"I know of a way you can be free," said the elder faun. Before the young woman could move, she went behind her and released her from the cruel bindings. "Go ease one of those priests. Don't worry. I'll deal with Ka-zog."
"But..." Her resolve was cracking. Her nostrils flared as she scented the pheromone-rich sweat of the priests. She was a brave one, and she stood her ground. Moisture trickled down the backs of her thighs.
The elder Faun shook her head sadly and went off to free another priestess. She wasted no time in pleasantries, just unbuckled the straps and gently removed the plugs. Without a word of explanation she moved on to the next, and the next, and the next... everyone seemed frozen in place and soon she was done.
The first priestess shook her head to clear it and trotted over to the far wall... the priests, plainly in great need, stayed against the opposite wall although more were coming in at every moment. Plainly they were clinging to control by the merest of shreds. And then a ray of light shone down in their midst. A figure seemed to be walking down the beam. She was insubstantial at first and then she solidified. She was beautiful beyond compare, with silver mane and tail and perfect, smooth features. Her silky fur was silver-white and her smile benevolent. Smiling, she looked about at the company, who all looked poor and dingy next to her. With a voice like clear bells, she spoke.
"You have nothing to fear. I bring your deliverance, your salvation in the eyes of Ka-zog. You have all been faithful servants and now it is time for your reward."
She walked straight up to Elis and laid her hands on his shoulders. "I am Compassion."
Elis began convulsing in immediate, ferocious orgasm. In his eyes were tears of joy.
She smiled on the young priestess, who was sidling over to one of the priests.. "I am Love."
She looked at them all and spread her arms wide. "I am Life."
"M-Moon Woman?" Aram was shaking. She looked altogether too much like the girl he had met who wanted him to bless her fields. "Is it... You?"
"I remember you, pretty one," she said, walking toward him in measured steps. "You have been bound by these unholy fetters for the shortest time, so let you be the first to know. Ka-zog's power is ended. He loved me, and I loved him once, but he went too far." Her voice raised and it filled the courtyard with sound. "I say to you all, your bonds are broken!"
Every female found herself unfettered, her straps and her plugs gone in an instant.
"Now, be free, and let my blessing be upon you!"
Elis, his shaft still spasming, went over to a priestess he had been eyeing for months. "May I...?"
"Now! Right now!" She moved her tail to one side, as far as it would go, and set her hind legs apart.
Elis mounted and thrust, the priestess pushing back against him with a desperation that matched any of the priests'. All around the courtyard similar things were happening as all the denied lust of months and years of servitude to Ka-Zog came out in waves and waves of passion. He thrust blissfully and she climaxed three times before he reached his pulsing burst.
Aram followed suit, sighing with pleasure as his aching shaft sank into the delicious depths of a particularly comely priestess. She cried out in passion as he moved, looking back over her shoulder and smiling at him. Ranya was her name and she had always been rather lusty. That was what made her denial so sweet and nourishing to Ka-zog... a gift that was no sacrifice was no gift at all. But now the gift was wasted just as soon as Ranya and Aram cried out in mutual delight, releasing the many months of carefully saved procreative energy.
The god Ka-zog was feeling faint, his power waning. All that energy was being spent on foolishness... but he had no strength left to rage. Instead he held all the tighter to one servant, his most faithful one, who had not been to a Planting for ten years. He was one of his most favored Chosen. But now his test must be severe or the gift would mean nothing, the power be worthless.
The Adept rose from his meditative posture. It was he who was revered by all the others, for only he had the ability to actually couple with a female yet not let any of his essence escape. The only time he lost his erection was during the night when he was bound like all the others. His need was great, he was always aching with pent-up desire, and the god gave him no peace. But he felt exalted because of it. He knew he would gain greater rewards, the greater was his suffering. So he submitted to caresses that made his shaft leap dangerously and yet never allowed himself relief. Though his control was perfect, it was far from easy. Visions of lovely maidens beset him constantly. He knew he must be half-mad by now, or more than that. It was difficult even to kneel with his hugely swollen orbs stuffed between his thighs. His genitals had once been quite undersized, barely able to please a woman or even reach very far outside his sheath. But though his pouches had been small, his shaft short and insignificant, he had one great skill—the ability to stay erect for hours without ever ejaculating. In fact, it had been the only reason he had gotten any attention at all... the females, and some of the males, liked to play with him to see how long he'd last. It was uncomfortable to be sure, but he could do it better than anyone else he knew. And it gave him a certain amount of notoriety, though sometimes they would play with him so long that they would forget to give him release, dooming him to many hours of frustration as his body slowly cooled. Sometimes his frequent sexual dreams were the only relief he got, being unable to reach far enough to rub himself.
As a boy, he had heard that a Chosen of Ka-zog would be provided with all he needed except that one thing which was required of him, that he would enjoy great prestige in exchange for his service. And perhaps most importantly, a Chosen's member would grow, and continue to do so until he found relief or completed the task he was appointed to. So the Acolyte had become a Priest. And it was true. Once the incantations had been said over him, he started to grow. Over the months his shaft had enlarged in response to the stimulation, his pouches swelled with seed. He liked feeling virile, always being erect. He felt more impressive than the normal males he met in the marketplace. Sadly, his unnaturally swollen anatomy shrank back to normal after he gave of his fertility at the Planting festivals. So he decided to stop releasing himself even then. At times it was agony to be denied in this way, but there was always that sweet pride that allayed his discomfort. And the Priest became an Adept, a Chosen of Ka-zog. Now his shaft was the largest of all the priests, his pouches the fullest and most swollen. He held his head high in the marketplace and on the streets, remembering the jeers and reveling in his new status. But there was still a great sacrifice to be made in exchange for this status, for his arousal never abated and it was hard even to think.
Now the Adept was being called by his god. Ka-zog had desperate need of him, and he knew that an even greater sacrifice would be in order. Though it hurt to walk, he did so, making his way to the courtyard. The sight and smell was almost enough to make him climax, in spite of all his control. He knew that he would have to behave as all the others, and yet not release himself. Never before had he coupled fully with a female for more than a few strokes, he thought it beyond him. He felt his shaft swell as much as it was able to, and it stroked against the soft fur of his belly as he walked. His pouches tightened maddeningly. He walked with his back legs wide apart, and it felt as if his pouches would brush the ground. His brows lowered in a scowl as he saw that all the females were unbound and enjoying themselves... they were coupling, and licking each other, and stroking the priests and each other... despite his anger, it was too much. His body called to him in a strident voice that could not be ignored. He could not bear it. There was no way he could be part of this, and still hold back.
I need you.
It was the voice of his god and he dared not ignore it. He moved up behind a priestess who was busily tonguing one of her friends under the tail. Mounting, he pushed inside her tight, welcoming wetness... it was paradise. His organ welcomed the touch and she was already wet enough that he entered easily. She squealed as his huge, swollen shaft stroked deeply, then began spasming around him. He thrust and thrust and thrust... his loins tightened... in just another moment he would feel the spectacular rush that was as clearly remembered now as the day he had last done it, ten years ago... long years of discipline took over and he stopped. He pulled out. She kept on licking, her partner sighed with pleasure, and he went to another. They were too distracted to notice his lack of climax. But he noticed it very much as his shaft throbbed with unfulfilled anger. Distantly, he could feel Ka-zog feeding off his power, being strengthened by it.
The Adept serviced female after female until he felt his loins would surely burst from the tension. This was the hardest test he had ever faced. His shaft was all thick stone with skin stretched so tight he thought it would split, his pouches were sacks of hot lead. His legs trembled with effort. He groaned, wishing in a traitorous part of himself that he could just release and have this all be over. Hadn't he provided service to Ka-zog for a long time now? Wasn't it time for a rest? An image leaped into his mind, unbidden, of himself being watched by all the other priests as his shaft jumped and spurted, over and over, shrinking each time until it dwindled to even greater insignificance than before he had become a priest. When the dream-priests began to laugh he snapped open his eyes and mounted another priestess. She enjoyed him very much, rubbing her soft rump against his pouches, clamping slippery lips around his needy organ, writhing in pleasure. Her hair was long and golden and he seemed to recognize her from somewhere... it was only a few strokes before he felt his body begin to spasm and knew he would have to pull out before he exploded.
He couldn't. His bulging head was socketed deep within her and the gulping muscles just wouldn't let him go. He tried to back up but she just went with him. He tried pushing her away but his arms lost strength... he couldn't stop pumping. She reached back and brought his hands up to her breasts, asking him to touch them. They were soft and weighty, the skin like velvet. Her depths massaged him mercilessly. He gritted his teeth and tried to hold back but his body was not his own... desperately he called out to Ka-zog but his voice was small and heard by no one. She spasmed around him harder and harder.
At last his body betrayed him and the Adept was thrown from the lofty heights of the upper priesthood down below the level of the newest acolyte. As his shaft spasmed, carrying thick globs out of him and into her he felt ecstasy for the first time in ten long years and found he didn't mind too much. He stayed that way with the priestess for a good long while, thrusting and pumping out his heavy load into her willing body. She matched him stroke for stroke, climaxing just as often as he did, and when he was done he simply subsided and collapsed into a boneless heap, as limp as his shaft.
The priestess stepped away from the former Adept and began to glow... she was regaining her true form again. She turned to face the former servants of Ka-zog, who were resting now after their long exertions.
"Do not fear for anything, my people," she said. "Ka-zog is no more."
There was a gasp of shock and horror. "But what will become of the sun, the crops?"
"They will continue as before. Did you really think he had the power to make the sun rise and set? Even I do not have the power to change the phases of the moons, and I am a goddess as well! Nature will continue. And now it will go on better than before." She smiled at them. "Now you all are free to live as people were meant to live. Listen well: Continue to revere nature, to bless the people who grow the grain that keeps us all alive. But do not worship with denial of pleasure, instead worship with the giving of it! Continue to minister to the sick, the poor, the hungry. But now also minister to the lonely women who need a child, the men who want companionship, the girls and boys who must learn to give and recieve pleasure before they can become adult. I think you will find that it is much easier to work and study and be useful now that you are a conduit for life and direct it instead of blocking it off. Remember these words... live and love well..." and she faded from view, but her presence remained for many minutes thereafter.
The next day the bewildered priests and priestesses did as she had said. They continued their work and found it easier and more fulfilling to do. And if one of them got a little frisky during a task, well, there was always time for that too. Ka-zog's name soon faded from the memory of the People, and if the elders remembered other days they didn't mention it. Karnon achieved great acclaim as an adventurer and womanizer. Elis eventually became High Priest. The former Adept was relieved to find that the years of constant stretching had caused his genitals to permanently enlarge somewhat, so that once he recovered from his encounter with Moon Woman he was... pretty much the same as everybody else. No one was gladder than he. Aram left the priesthood and decided he wanted to be a sailor. He was last seen heading out to unknown waters, in one of the first mixed crew sailing vessels. He wasn't about to give up pleasure any more, the priesthood had cured him of that! The old Faun woman retired back to her hut, where she still keeps a sharp eye for any gods, demigods, or avatars who abuse their privileges as divine beings. Throughout Callicantzar, less than half of one percent of all residents were the slightest bit aware of any of this. And perhaps that's just as well.
Page last updated 07-Nov-17 by: Altairboy@aol.com