Message-ID: <11596eli$9805271526@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/11596.txt>
From: Remmelt de Haan <remmelt@kosterix.icce.rug.nl>
Subject: RP: Carlin 6/6 - Sanna (mast, fantasy)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-Id: <199805242108.XAA06725@kosterix.icce.rug.nl>


All of these stories are copyright Remmelt de Haan '97-'98.
I'm not writing to fill my pockets (or anyone ELSE'S for that
matter). I'm not interested in archiving my stories (stop bugging 
me about that, thanks) and I'll do the reposting - please email
me if you've found these stories anywhere else.


Sanna


    "Then you bless them, seal off their commitment and conclude the
ceremony," Father Chodel said. "By popular custom, the couple usually
kisses."
    Sanna nearly groaned. The priest's dry description of the wedding
ceremony made watching snails race exciting in comparison.
    Arrangement. Dowry. Bloodlines. Rings. Families bartering their
sons and daughters to gain prestige and wealth. Not once in the past
two hours had the word 'love' been mentioned.
    Sanna often wondered what the lessons would've looked like had they
all worshiped Shilohin instead of Eesyan. Detailed marital instruction
for the bride and groom? Performance class with the sixty-five positions?
    Gods, I would've aced that class, she mused. She stifled a giggle.
    "Is something funny, Sanna Penhale?!" Chodel boomed. "Something the
rest of us missed?"
    Sanna, more annoyed than embarrassed by Chodel's outburst, glanced
around her. Most acolytes looked bored, some conversed in muted voices.
It looked like as if the entire class was hibernating.
    "Well Father, I was just wondering what I have to tell a bride who
asks me for... well..."  Her voice faltered.
    "Well what?" Chodel said impatiently.
    "Advice on bedchamber activities," she said deadpan.
    All conversation in the chapel stopped.
    "Well, doesn't that fall under 'explaining marital duties'?" she
continued innocently.
    Chodel turned red. A few acolytes in the back turned and coughed
loudly, covering their mirth at their teacher's obvious discomfort.
    "Although it might be a daunting task," Sanna went on.  "After all,
you don't take someone who's not allowed to pick up a weapon seriously
either, when he speaks about fighting styles."
    Some of the older acolytes winced at the obvious stab.
    Father Chodel raised a trembling hand and pointed at the door.
    "Out," he whispered. "Get out."
    Sanna bowed briefly and said: "By your leave, Father."
    In a mixture of relief and frustration she walked out. 


    The library was fairly empty. Since the renovation of the westwing
the scribes had gotten their chambers, where they could work in peace,
undisturbed by the coming and going of young initiates. The space gained
by their move was now filled rows of desks. Also, three isles of book-
shelves had been extended a good six feet.
    Sanna strolled down the isles and looked at the rows of librams,
tomes and scrolls. She picked up 'Principia Initiae' and turned to
chapter two. She began to read, as if to find something she'd overlooked
all those times she had studied the text.
    _To study, to serve, to teach. Only this is the purview of the
initiate. The need for adventure, the accumulation of wealth and any
pursuit of personal desires is merely distraction from devotion._
    This was the foundation of the relationship-rule. The no-sex rule.
Thou shalt not fornicate. The chapter was over four hundred years old.
Loopholes had been found by devious apprentices and had been plugged by
even more clever priests. All possible shades of meaning had been debated
over the centuries and all nuances been written down in various guides
and journals.
    All in all, she mused, the initiates could be proud what they had
gotten out of it, in the long run.
    The 'wealth rule' had been the first to go, since it was this rule
that affected the Temple as a whole as well as the individual priests.
To build and maintain a Temple cost a small fortune in running costs. 
Construction was a one time expense, albeit costly, but the priests and
students needed food and clothing, furniture and tools for the classrooms
and workshops, etc, etc. Noblemen appeared to be a lot less inclined towards
periodic donations if their children had to live in poor living conditions.
Since the Temple Consensus had voted against separating the students from
poor families from those of rich ones, the solution had been to improve
the facilities for everyone. This decision was of course proudly hailed
as an example of Eesyan's fairness in treating everyone as equals. The
Temple also allowed their students to wear modest jewelry or save up money.
Most of the students tried to save up for a rainy day. The prevailing
opinion was that serving Eesyan and a certain degree of comfort (especially
when one was on the road) didn't need to be mutually exclusive.
    The decision to allow 'adventuring' had been fairly recent. Only ten
years ago adventurers were still treated with disdain. Wandering deatbeats,
in for the get-rich-quick method.
    And then a lowly apprentice named Helkai came up with a bright idea.
His idea was to send off pairs of priests with adventure groups, to keep
them in check on the one hand, and to spread the teachings of Eesyan among
the common people on the other. He prepared a speech and presented his case
so eloquently that the Temple Consensus sanctioned this option for young
priests and priestesses; a junior priest and an acolyte assistant could
apply for extended leave. Helkai studied so hard that barely a year later
he became an acolyte. He joined an adventure band with a friend on the
second day and hadn't been seen in his hometown since. From time to time
however, his Temple received scroll cases packed with charts of and reports
about far away lands. Helkai had thrown out chapter two of 'Principia
Initiae', gone off adventuring and generally could do whatever he bloody
well wanted. And he had gotten away with it.
    Sanna planned to follow in his footsteps. Move away to far away
places, unchecked by the Temple Elders. She didn't really believe all
the stories about the Eyes of the Temple, the infamous spy network that
was spread out across Edalaran like the strands of a spider web. After
all, if they were sent out to spread the Wisdom of Eesyan, that meant
there had to be towns without a following. And how could the Temple have
Eyes in places like that?
    Her friend Miriam had already gone, she and that goofy looking guy
everybody called Dance. When she first had seen the two of them together,
she had known Miriam was in love with him. When he had asked her to be his
assistant she had said yes without giving it a second thought. Sanna was
wondering how their relationship was now, since the Temple had been clamping
down on a few cases of 'misconduct' recently. 
    A couple of juniors who had been found in a linen closet in a very
intimate position had been send off to Temples in opposite corners of
the land. As third grade apprentices. The priestess who'd discovered
them had been given a vow of silence for six months, to prevent gossip.
    Some weeks ago an acolyte had tried to hang herself in her chamber.
It was only by pure coincidence that she was found in time. The girl,
daughter of a wealthy merchant, was smitten to a young senior priest
she had met in Carlin. Upon hearing that he had confessed their sinful
relationship to the Temple and had been send to Port Malthar in the deep
south as punishment, she had tried to take her own life. She had been 
sent to a Temple in the north, ostensibly for meditation, but rumour
had it she had been dismissed from service.
    Sanna often wondered whether Miriam would be happy with the current
situation. Or perhaps she had been gone long enough to dare and challenge
the Temple's rules. Rumours were circulating that the Temple was about
to cave in. The bigger the Temples grew, the more difficult it was to
make sure everybody followed the rules. Soon there would come a day
when another smart apprentice would have another brilliant idea and would
make the rest of Chapter Two obsolete.
    She smiled whistfully. For now she and everybody else above the rank
of apprentice had to follow the rule. She just prayed that day would come
before she lost interest in sex.
    And where Miriam simple adored her Senior, Sanna merely laughed at
the young men who were on the lookout for an assistant.
    In the first months she had set her standards pretty high, focussing
on the physical, mental as well as spiritual attributes of a possible Senior.
But as time moved on it became clear there wasn't really anyone she
wanted to work with. They were all clumsy as oxes, slow and dimwitted.
She had kept lowering her expectations, until she found herself looking
for someone she could at least respect.
    And until the time came someone like that presented himself, she worked
hard. Since she had taken her vows as an acolyte she had immersed herself
in her studies. Apart from checking out potential Seniors she had avoided
thinking about men altogether. She ignored invitations to birthdays or
dances and could stroll through town all afternoon without having a single
moment of weakness. But she couldn't stop the dreams.
    At night, every night, she was free and lived outrageously. Sometimes
she was with a man, sometimes with a woman. One night she dreamt about a
handsome sorcerer who took her to a sunny beach. He cast a spell which made
them virtually weightless. Floating seven feet above the shore, they slowly
made love, their cries mingling with those of the seagulls. In another dream
she was addressing the Temple Consensus, pleading for more personal freedom.
While she was talking she felt a couple of warm hands caressing her breasts
and a soft tongue starting to lick her inner thighs. When she looked down
she discovered she stood naked before the crowd of High Priests, but there
was noone near her. As she struggled to finish her speech her invisible
lover continued the oral assault. It didn't take long before she cried out,
pushing her loins into the face of her invisible lover. Most of the times
she remembered only fragments of those dreams.
    And then there were the dreams about Miriam.
    They were in the steam room, naked and covered in sweat. When it was
Miriam's turn for a backrub, Sanna said: "You are just perfect. If I were
a boy, I'd know what to do with you."
    Miriam, who rested her head on her hands, looked at her and replied
softly: "Why don't you show me anyway?"
    And she did.
    She always woke up feeling highly excited, her face flushed and her
heart still beating wildly. Knowing sleep wouldn't return until she was
fulfilled, she slipped her left hand down her chemise and started rubbing
her wetness. Within moments she reached her peek. After two breathtaking
orgasms she calmed down and fell asleep again.
    The memory of these vivid dreams did not fade; at any time of day or
night she could recall even the smallest detail of them. Not that she
often did, because they never failed to arouse her. And they made her
sad for she knew they would never happen between them. She would never
jeopardize their close friendship by making a move on her.
    The bell for the midday meal sounded. Sanna blinked and smiled. She
was daydreaming a lot lately. She put the book back on the shelf and
walked to the dinner hall.
    During midday meals Sanna usually kept to herself. She didn't join
conversations and only spoke when someone asked her a direct question. 
In all her time she had been in the Temple Miriam had been her only
close friend. She didn't bother to try and make new ones, figuring she
would leave Korinth soon enough.
    To her dismay, Cicely Dantzen took a seat opposite her.
    Cicely was the kind of student that seemed to float through the
clerical career with the grace of a dancer. Everything seemed to come
naturally to her. With a minimum of study she always was the first of
her class, making her the favorite of more than a few teachers. She could
dazzle nearly everyone with her toothy smile. She never lacked any friends,
male or female. People seemed eager to be with her, to be seen with her.
She carried herself with an almost regal presence and seemed to treat
everyone around her as a loyal subject.
    Sanna only nodded when Cicely greeted her cheerfully. She watched
her as she started a conversation with a junior priest next to her.
Cicely was very attractive and objectively Sanna could understand why
people behaved the way they did around her.
    Personally, she couldn't care less. The Ice Queen didn't do anything
for her and not even in her wildest dreams did she make out with Cicely.
    "Well Sister Sanna, that was quite a show you put on in the chapel,
wasn't it?" Cicely said casually.
    Sanna ate her soup. She wasn't surprised that it had come out; and
someone as popular as Cicely knew every gossip and rumour within the hour. 
    After a few spoonfulls she asked: "Why, do you disagree, Sister?"
    "I just thought it was odd that someone like you had to say it,"
Cicely replied.  "I mean, it's not as if you miss out on anything, not
with your looks."
    Sanna reddened with embarrasment. The hand holding the spoon halted
in mid air. Staring into her blurry mirror image in the bowl of soup, 
she thought: does she think I'm ugly? Is she saying...
    "So true, Sister Cicely," a dry voice came from the left.  "But then
again, _she_ doesn't have to cover up her true nature with stunning looks."
Everyone within hearing range turned to look at the speaker, a short, heavy
set apprentice with a full, round face. Cicely paled.
    Unperturbed, the apprentice looked at Sanna and said: "Could you pass
the salt, sister?"
    Sanna passed the salt and looked curiously at him.
    "Excuse me," Cicely said frostily, "I didn't get your name."
    The apprentice nodded and elaborately sprinkled salt over his stake.
    "I know," he replied. "I like to stay ahead of some people..."
    He paused, removing a piece of lint from his collar, drawing out the
moment until it became insultingly long, before adding: "...sister."
    Someone at the end of the table giggled and Sanna looked down to hide
her smile. Conversation was resumed and Cicely kept quiet throughout the
rest of the meal. She left the table without saying a word.
    Sanna lingered until the apprentice and she were the only one left
sitting. At the end of the table, the apprentices with kitchen duty started
to clean up.
    "I thought I was the only one with a resistance against Cicely's
charms," she began. The apprentice wiped his mouth with the inside of his
sleeve and laughed.
    "Surely you are joking. I spotted Miss Frosty a mile away," he smiled.
"Sister," he added, warmly this time, as if he was an adoring younger brother.
    Sanna smiled back, thinking: he is good. A real charmer.
    "I'm Sanna Penhale," she said. "Are you new here?"
    "Penhale?"  His eyebrows raised in admiration.  "I read your name on
the honors list. No wonder she hates you - she feels you breathing down
her neck."
    Sanna suddenly realized that he might be right. It could very well be
that with all her hard work she was in second place. She had never bothered
to look on the list because it didn't mean anything to her. She didn't study
to be number one - she just studied to get her mind off things.
    "I'm Avital," the apprentice introduced himself.  "A transfer from Em
Ventar. I got here yesterday."
    Sanna held out her hand and he shook it by clasping her forearm. Her
brother Alan, a warrior trainee, had shown her that greeting once.
    "You've been to a Warrior Academy," she observed.
    Avital smiled somewhat sheepishly.
    "Sorry. Old habits die hard," he said. "I had two years behind me at
the School of Tacticians before I found out I could heal. After that
things were somewhat... out of my hands."
    "Sister Sanna, I would like a word with you," a priestess interrupted
them. They both looked toward the entrance of the dining hall, where a
tall slender woman was beckoning Sanna. The look on her face spelled trouble.
    "Good luck," Avital whispered. 
    Sanna opened her mouth to thank him, when the priestess boomed:
"In my chambers, now!!"


    Mother Maeragh slammed the door shut.
    "You think you are pretty clever, don't you?" she started.
    Sanna still rubbed her left arm. The priestess had dragged her through
the halls by her arm, and rather roughly at that.
    "Clever? No, mother..."
    "You made obscene suggestions to Father Chodel during wedding
instruction."
    "What!?"  Sanna's eyes spread wide in disbelief.  "But I..."
    "Did you or did you not ask Father Chodel for sexual advice?" the
priestess said sharply.
    "Yes, but not in such..."
    "Park duty for a week. We'll purge that rebellious streak yet."
    Sanna was appalled. Weeding the public gardens, removing fallen
leaves and pebbles from the flower beds, using nothing but your bare
hands. Her first thought was: I did not deserve this. Then, unbidden,
came another: they won't get me down. I won't give them a reason to
keep me here any longer than absolutely necessary.
    "Was there anything else, mother?" she asked, looking at the ground.
    Mother Maeragh regarded the acolyte with pursed lips. After a moment
or two she answered: "No. You can go now, sister."



    Sanna emptied the wooden bucket into the wheelbarrow. Another five
feet of weed-choked flowerbed cleared of funny bits. The fingers of her
left hand were covered in a black-green layer of dirt. She slowly walked
back to her designed spot. Her back protested as she tried to straighten
up. More than few muscles in her legs ached. She had been crouching for
the first hour, then shifted her stance to kneeling. She had felt the small
pebbles of the paths between the flowerbeds digging in her knees. Sitting
or lying down was not allowed. The overseer, a man with a ruddy face and
a bushy moustache, was not above kicking his...
    'Slaves' would be the correct word, Sanna thought. Or 'peons'. The 
humiliation of park duty lay in the fact that it was public punishment. The 
small group of acolytes and apprentices who weekly attended to the parks of
Korinth had to deal with jibes of commoners, noblemen lecturing about
virtues and sometimes dirt-kicking street urchins. The overseer wasn't even
a priest but usually one of those men one never catches working but who
nevertheless manage to make a living. This week's overseer enjoyed telling
park visitors the transgression of each member of his work crew. 
    "Move along, fat boy! Keep those grubby little hands busy!" the overseer
scolded. He shoved a slightly overweight apprentice away from the wheelbarrow.
    "Think those hands are good enough to nab meat from the kitchen, but not
to do an honest day's work? Koriel watches you, fat boy!"
    And you too, Sanna thought. She was careful not to let her irritation
show; until now the overseer's ire had been directed elsewhere and the last
thing she desired was the man's attention.
    Methodically removing green and brown shoots of weed, she tried to finish
the last part of her flowerbed. She tried to draw some satisfaction from
the yards of flowerbeds she'd already covered, but on the morning of the
last day she noticed that the part of the park their group had worked on
in the beginning was already starting to deteriorate again.
    An entire group of gardeners could be kept occupied, day in, day out, for
a full season, just to keep the grounds well-kept. 
    At the end of the last day of her punishment, after she had emptied her
bucket for the last time, she noted with a slight disgust that although she
was tired, her muscles no longer ached and protested when she made sudden
moves. She was actually getting used to the menial work! Right there and then
she decided to use her last town pass, dine in a quiet inn and spend an
evening on her own.
    And to drown her frustrations in a carafe of wine.
    As soon as she had cleared her night out with the priest on duty at the
Front Office, she headed down to the basement for a steambath. The bell for
the evening meal sounded just as she turned the corner to the women's section.
She had once tried to find out whether the Temple had always been separating
the men from the women when bathing or whether it had been a sudden change.
Curiously, although the library had extensive librams on architecture and
even maps covering the various Temples in Edalaran and even of a few in far
away lands, information on the lower levels, including the steambaths, was
non-existent. If she had to believe the scrolls, a couple of hundred years
ago, the baths and basements had suddenly sprung into existence. Nobody seemed
to know who'd built it or whose design it had been.
    Sanna had heard of tales about a Temple devoted entirely to Shilohin,
the Lady of Love and Lust, where men and women did bathe together. Rumour
would have the Temple located in a mountainous area in the southwest of
Edalaran.
    Two apprentices came out of the dressing room, their hair still wet and
tousled. The two girls nodded briefly and hurried upstairs, already late for
dinner.
    Sanna took off her robe, folded it and put it on one of the wooden benches
that stood lined against the walls. She slipped out of her sandals and stood
on the cold stone floor, the contact sending a familiar shiver from her feet
up to her face. She suppressed the impulse to hurry, even slowed her movements
and calmly stripped until she was naked. Slowly she walked towards the pool
room, ignoring the feel of the cold stone slabs under her feet.
    The pool room was deserted, which was not susprising at this time of day.
The water was quietly dancing in giddy reflections on the walls. The only
sounds were those of the water lapping at the edges of the oval pool. Sanna
walked towards the edge, took a deep breath and dived in head first.
    The intense shock of the ice cold water paralyzed her for a few moments.
When she had regained her orientation she slowly started to swim to the other
side, even though every fibre in her body screamed to get out of the cold
water. Her heart raced and she felt her nipples stiffen. Ten seconds later
she surfaced at the far end, gasping for air. With teeth chattering and limbs
shaking she pulled herself out of the water. Taking deep breaths of air she
tried to slow her heartbeat.
    The corridor between the pool room and the steam room was warm now, the
stone floor no longer cold.
    This was probably the closest to total freedom that one could ever get,
she mused: walking around buck naked without a soul to bother you. She made
a mental note to try and find out whether there was any truth to the rumours
about the Temple of Shilohin.
    When she entered the steamroom, the heat enveloped her liked a heavy
blanket. The air was heavy and laden with spices, prickling the airways.
She lay down on one of the animal furs and watched the steam rise to the
ceiling, where it escaped through an air vent. She stretched luxuriously
and sighed.
    Peace at last.
    Cicely Dantzen would have to gossip behind her back today, as she was
wont to do, Avital had told her. She smiled as she thought of the short,
stout apprentice. They had spoken twice more during dinner since the start
of her punishment. She decided she liked him. He was smart and he knew what
he wanted. He disliked idle chatter, as she did, and preferred to be direct.
As long as he sat next to her at the dinner table, Cicely kept quiet. Like
herself, he looked further than the walls of the Temple. He liked to talk
about people and places, the life he had had before he entered the service
of Eesyan.
    She still remembered his firm handshake. She wouldn't be surprised if
the rest of him was as firm and muscular as his arm. Two years ago she had
bedded a warrior trainee. The boy had been as green as gras, but he'd had
an unbelievable stamina.
    The corners of her mouth curled upwards as she thought back to those days.
    Avital was probably more experienced, she mused.
    The thought of Avital's sweaty body against her send a wave of excitement
through her. Her left hand slipped between her legs and grazed her inner
thighs. Her left leg bent at the knee to give herself better access.
    Sanna closed her eyes and gave in to the sensations. Her nails scratched
her lips lightly, stretching her pubic hair. She smiled as Avital, before
her mind's eye, disrobed and proudly showed his manhood, hard and pointing
upwards. Her middle finger slid between her lips, which were already starting
to get wet.
    Her hands moved up and covered her breasts, twisting and pulling her
nipples until they were fully erect. Sighing contently, she moved her right
hand back between her legs to palm her kitten.
    Avital was now kneeling before her, guiding his stiff rod towards the
dark triangle of hair. She slipped her middle finger inside and envisioned
Avital penetrating her with the full length of his shaft. She added a second
finger and started to move her hand in and out.
    A moan escaped her lips as the smooth motion sent waves of pleasure
through her. She spit on the fingers of her left hand, spread her lips and
moistened the area in between, where her little pearl of pleasure was growing.
Her hips began to accomodate her invading fingers by lifting her buttocks off
the fur at each downstroke.
    She moaned again and bit her lower lip to stifle another; she couldn't
afford to be caught. For a while she listened to the sounds of the room:
the sizzling of the steam, the soft liquid sounds her kitten was producing
around her fingers, coming in staccato rhythm, her own laboured breathing
and the sliding of her arms over her sweaty stomach and sides.
    In between the flexing and unflexing of her most private muscles, she
felt a tiny ball nestling itself between her thighs. She immediately went
for it, eager to wash away her frustrations with a breathtaking orgasm.
    Sanna speeded up her movements, her hands moving frantically, climbing
and climbing, grinning because oh it was going to be a big one, the ball
swelling until it felt like a dam about to burst and Avital was inside
her and moving faster and then she could no longer contain herself. She
arched her back against her imaginary lover and shuddering, she reached
her peak.
    "Unnh.. unhh.. unnhh.." she chanted through clenched teeth, her fingers
pumping her sheath furiously, prolonging the agonizing pleasure for as long
as possible.
    Still trembling from exertion, she came down from her high. Slowly she
removed her fingers and brought them to her mouth. Eagerly she licked her
fingers clean. She'd always enjoyed her own taste and liked to think that
was what had ultimately made her swing both ways.
    She frowned slightly as she thought of Avital again. It was a damned
shame that he was just an apprentice. They might have made a good couple.
But however much she liked him, there was just no way she was going to wait
until his advancement to Senior. She had to get out of this place sooner
than that.
    Much sooner.




-- 
+----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+
| <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> |
| Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>