The Offering 12

Deep in the mountains, nestled in a sheltered valley, there is a village that has maintained its old ways. Hidden away from the encroachment of modern society or the meddling of missionaries, this village continues to worship its old gods and practice its ancient rite of spring.

As the sun sets on the day of the spring equinox, a girl is making her way through the village, accompanied by several priestesses of the temple of Fainna, goddess of the harvest, of fertility and new life. Soon she will be the focus of the village's most sacred tradition: the Spring Tribute, said to be the secret to the valley's longstanding richness and fertility.

Aged nineteen, with long dark hair and delicate features, the flower of her youth is in full bloom. She wear a plain shift dress of drab beige and simple rope sandals, typical of the plain dress of the chosen maidens. She has been selected for her beauty, her devotion to Fainna, but most importantly, her purity. As with all other chosen maidens, she has never been corrupted by knowledge of carnal matters, never exchanged so much as a flirtatious glance with a village boy, and never experienced sexual touch, not even by her own hand. Since her selection she has lived in seclusion in her family home, sheltered from the temptations and corrupting influences of the outside world. But tonight, she will shed her carefully protected innocence as she fulfills her role as the temple's offering unto Fainna.

Now, as the sun continues to sink below the horizon, our little party reaches the edge of the village, and continues along the dirt track that winds its way up the mountain to the temple. Normally dark, tonight the path is lined with torches, flickering against the fading light. Excitement and apprehension swell simultaneously in the girl's chest as she starts up the narrow path. She knows nothing of what is to come, but her intuition engenders within her a certain foreboding. However, her steps neither slow nor waver, such is her determination to serve her village.

The temple of Fainna is a plain structure of simple wooden beams built on the mountainside, nestled among the scrubby trees and jagged rocks. Modest in size and scope, it consists of little more than the priestess quarters and a single main hall. The girl approaches this hall now. It is a rectangular room, open at the front, with a large, low altar located against the back wall, and several sizable ceremonial drums arranged in a semicircle. Incense smolders in holders throughout the room, while imposing braziers located outside the hall blaze with flame. Tonight, a metal tub has been placed before the altar, filled with steaming water.

More priestesses emerge from the wings of the main hall as the girl and her companions approach. They remove her clothes, exposing the soft curves of her body. She steps into the tub, where she is bathed by many pairs of hands. She has never been touched like this, and the unfamiliar sensations cause her heartbeat to quicken, but it is only a small taste of what is to come. The priestesses' hands are deft and light as they wash, dry and anoint her supple skin with perfumed oils. Her hair is combed smooth and a crown of flowers placed upon her head. She is dressed in a long flowing skirt of pure white, leaving her upper body bare and her soft, full breasts wholly exposed. Although it is spring, the winter chill lingers in the evening air, and she is grateful for the warmth of the braziers burning all around her.

A bronze cup is lifted to her lips, and she willingly swallows. It is ceremonial wine laced with a potent aphrodisiac, invaluable for inducing the mental state required for a successful offering. Finally, she is led outside to a small wooden platform located just before the main hall. At the rear of the platform is a vertical wooden beam, to which a sturdy brass ring has been affixed just above head height. Before the platform, the dirt path from the village forms a tidy loop before rejoining the path back down the mountain.

The girl is led by the priestesses onto this platform, where she is blindfolded and her hands bound with rope and secured to the brass ring above her head. Robbed of her sight, and so vulnerably exposed, the girl begins to tremble in nervous anticipation. Behind her, from the main hall, the steady beat of ceremonial drums begins to sound, signalling the start of the ceremony.

The girl knows some of what is about to happen. She has seen it enough times from the village. Slowly, in single file, the men of the village have begun to proceed up the mountain path. What she doesn't know, however, what she has never been allowed to witness, is what happens once they reach the temple, and her heart pounds as her mind races with possibilities. The chill evening air prickles her skin and causes her nipples to harden into stiff peaks.

After a seemingly interminable wait, the girl cries out in shock as a rough hand closes over her breast. The hand is shortly followed by a mouth, sucking greedily. She feels another man latch onto her other breast, licking and teasing her nipple with his tongue. The first man releases her breast and another immediately takes his place, nibbling at her tender flesh as if she were a ripe peach. Never before has she been touched this way, and this barrage of new, intense sensations causes small whimpers to escape her lips. Her head swims, and she wonders if the wine is taking effect. The ceremonial drums continue to beat.

She knows who these men are. They are her father's friends, her friends' sweethearts, the baker and his apprentice with the shy smile. The farmers, the merchants, the young, the old. But tonight she is not their friend, acquaintance or neighbor, merely a faceless,tribute offered up to Fainna, and they descend hungrily upon her, steadily stripping away her innocence with each lick and touch and suckle.

She clenches her teeth and tries her best to endure the sensory assault on her sensitive virgin body. She feels two mouths close simultaneously over her breasts, sucking strongly and steadily, and moans in response to the firm, rhythmic motion of the men's tongues against her delicate nipples. Although unfamiliar, the sensations trigger some dormant instinct deep inside her. She can feel an ache building deep within her core, and a growing wetness between her legs.

One by one, as the drums continue to beat steadily, the village men approach and suckle at the girl's defenseless breasts. She is not ashamed, she is not embarrassed - rather, she is fiercely proud to serve her village, but her cheeks burn red hot all the same. All the various hands, mouths, teeth, tongues, touching, groping, sucking, licking, squeezing, nibbling, pawing, pinching, all of it is rapidly melding into a cacophony of overwhelming sensation, heightened by the mounting effect of the potent ceremonial wine.

She is panting now, her long-practiced ladylike decorum rapidly slipping away. The stimulation of her breasts feels not only intense, but good. She moans again, deeper this time, and arches her back into the men's relentless mouths, eager for more. The ache inside her has become an intense throb, between her legs and deeper too. She feels a hunger and emptiness she doesn't understand, as the muscles of her virgin passage begin to contract rhythmically and moisture gathers between her delicate pink folds.

Disoriented in her blindfold, the girl feels the world spinning. She no longer knows how long ago the ceremony began. The platform feels tilted beneath her feet, the sound of the drums oddly distorted in her ears. She moans in pleasure as a tongue flicks insistently over her nipple, again and again. The throbbing between her legs builds to a crescendo with the continued assault on her breasts, and she cries out as her inner muscles pulsate and her body stiffens in the throes of her first climax, the first of many she will experience tonight.

By the time the last of the men have passed by the platform and turned back down the path to the village, the girl is in a stupor. The wine has reach full effect, compounded by the exhaustion of her unexpected orgasm, and she sags against her restraints, knees buckling. The priestesses of the temple release her hands and half support, half carry her back into the main hall, where she is laid on the low wooden altar.

There, her long white skirt is removed, leaving her naked body fully exposed on the wooden platform. Still blindfolded, the girl cannot see what is being done to her, but through her drug-induced haze she can feel many pairs of hands, some restraining her limbs, some caressing her body. She hears the pop of a cork, followed by a trickle of warm oil over her breasts, belly, and thighs. The unseen hands continue to stroke, squeeze and massage her supple flesh, working the oil into her body until she is slippery and glistening all over. The priestesses begin to chant, a low droning prayer of offering to Fainna that melds with the rhythmic drumming and heady smell of incense, lending the small space an air of unreality.

The girl moans shamelessly as she feels a pair of hands begin to steadily massage her breasts, firmly stroking from base to tip, pinching and tugging her now almost unbearably sensitive nipples, sending jolts of pleasure throughout her entire body. Her knees are pulled apart and held open, revealing her most private areas. Now the head priestess, a hunched, gray-haired woman, takes her seat between the girl's open legs and raises her weathered hands to her glistening sex.

She parts the girl's outer lips, slick with oil and arousal, exposing the bright jewel of her swollen clitoris. With the thumb, she gently massages the engorged organ in slow circles, causing the girl's hips to jerk and desperate, guttural sounds to emerge from her throat.

In no time at all, the girl is climaxing again, helpless to resist the multitude of pleasures being inflicted upon her primed and responsive body. She is in a deep trance now, maintained by the drums, the chanting, the incense, the aphrodisiac wine, the hands restraining and caressing her body, the haze of sexual pleasure overwhelming her senses. Adrift in this sea of sensation, she fully surrenders herself to Fainna, body and soul.

It is at this moment that she feels the marble phallus pushing at the entrance of her slick virgin passage. The chanting reaches a crescendo as it ruptures her hymen, causing her to cry out in pain. As the unforgiving stone stretches her tight passage to its limit, a small trickle of blood falls onto the altar, a worthy offering to Fainna. The unseen hands continue to stroke her body as she writhes and whimpers, and she climaxes helplessly once more.

The girl's mouth is pulled open and a curved wooden rod inserted down her throat. She chokes and gags, but firm hands grasp her by the hair, forcing her to accept the intrusion. Countless hands glide over her oiled body, stroking her all over, kneading her breasts, rubbing and pinching her rock-hard nipples. The head priestess continues her steady massage of the girl's clitoris as she moves the marble phallus in and out of her freshly deflowered passage, pushing the stone member deep into her inner sanctum with each stroke. The girl can do nothing but endure the protracted assault on her senses. The emptiness she felt earlier in the evening is gone, replaced by utter and overwhelming fullness. A broken cry escapes her throat as she climaxes yet again.

Deep into the night, the priestesses continue their ministrations upon the defenseless girl, drawing orgasm after helpless orgasm from her quivering body, thoroughly stripping her of her former innocence and offering it up as a sacrifice to Fainna. It is thanks to her gift that the village will enjoy a bountiful harvest this year, and many safe, healthy births. Fainna is a generous goddess, and all she asks in return is the purity and innocence of a single young girl.

When at last the girl can bear no more and sinks into unconsciousness, the chanting and drumbeats finally cease. The priestesses of the temple begin the process of cleaning her spent, naked body, combing her damp, tangled hair, and wiping the thick sheen of oil, sweat and sexual fluids from her skin. She is carried to the priestess quarters, where she will spend the night. In the morning she will be offered a choice: return to ordinary life in the village, or remain at the temple as an initiate. Should she choose the latter, she will be among their ranks at the next Spring Tribute, carrying out on the next girl's body all that was done to her. And so the cycle will continue.

But for now she sleeps deeply and dreamlessly, fully spent from the exhausting events of the past several hours. Moisture lingers between her still-swollen folds, a reminder of innocence lost. But that is the way of life in these mountains. She has played her part admirably. When the morning comes, she will awaken as a woman, and begin her new life.