Her anointed skin a sheen in candlelight, body splayed across black marble, breasts rise and fall with anxious breath, her muscles tense against the chains.

The chant rises, her body trembles with desire and fear. A drop of oil upon each nipple, rising erect, tingling madly. A slow crescendo reached, her soul quivering with her body, the priest hovering for the final anointment. She braces, feels the slick warmth trickle over excited flesh, oozing between helpless folds. Her body aches for consummation as much as it trembles before it.

The chant stops. Her breath catches. One final but vain tug at her chains.

She is joined on the altar. Warm flesh slides against her body. She shudders at his hardness, whimpers at his entry. Then, a stop, a push, a flicker of brief pain and a gasp. A pause.

And inside her. The chant is renewed, she rises with it. Waves crash through her body. Soaring, bursting, a final cry of ecstacy.

Her virginity sacrificed.

Feedback

Did you like this story? Hate it? Printed it and lined the birdcage with it?

Please take a moment to send me some comments about this story. Your comments may remain anonymous if you prefer, or you can include an email address in your comments if you wish a reply.