for twobucks

[learnandshift]

[The so-called Temple is actually more of a castle, close up, and the priests and priestesses have certainly tried to make it feel more like a home, so far. If the chosen Bride had any fear of being strapped to an altar and sacrificed immediately on arrival, the attendants hope the hospitality will soothe it.

When she first arrived, she was seen to a luxurious private bedroom and allowed to rest, then given a tour of her new home (all but one foreboding room behind a white door at the highest point of the highest tower.) Then came a sumptuous wedding feast of every delicacy imaginable, and some perhaps even unheard of. The Lord was strangely not in attendance.

"He'll see you later tonight," said the high priest, a portly man with kind eyes. "He wants you to enjoy yourself in the meantime."

After dinner it was off to the baths, where the Bride was soaked and scrubbed in hot mineral springwater and fragrant oils, then dressed in nothing but a white silk robe tied at the waist. There is little doubt what is to happen now, as the high priestess walks the Bride up to that white door in the high tower.

"Only do not shun him," said the priestess. "He will not hurt you. But do not refuse."

With that discomforting little message, they open the doors and usher the Bride inside what appears to be a featureless room, gray stone. At the far end is a flat stone altar, and behind it a throne.

In the throne sits nothing but a cloud of shadow, immense and as featureless as the room except for pinpricks of light, glowing orange eyes.]

Comments

[twobucks]

[ The sound that comes from her this time is far less surprised, something edging close to a moan as her fingers grip into the bit of shadow she's holding. It's strangely warm, almost like sparks tickling and touching along her skin, and when she feels that tendril prod at her, her hips twitch.

Oh. So this is how it will happen, how it can happen with something that isn't human. Her eyes fall halfway to open as he continues to rub at her, takes a breath as she slides a hand up her stomach to caress a breast. There's a warmth unfurling in her gut, something foreign and welcome, and if she just— ]

A-ah!

[ A flood of heat as she pinches her nipple, and this time she moves her hips on purpose, to rub against the tendril touching her. What if...

Elise lets go of the shadows, slides her free hand between them to rub her hand along the one between her legs. She's getting wet now, can feel the slick somehow clinging to the shadow — and her fingers guide him to the apex, to the little bundle of nerves the elders told her about, that she'd been too ashamed to experiment with before this. ]

Try- try here.

[learnandshift]

[She begins to touch herself. He believes that to be a good sign, but the priests did not cover for what reason the bride might begin to touch herself. It does not seem to relay any distress, so he continues stroking her, watching in what could be perceived as fascination as she touches her nipples and rubs against him.

Perhaps it feels good. The priestesses said it should, if he is doing it right.

Her fingers take the tip of his tendril, and he stills as she moves it to a very particular spot. There is a little cleft there, and at her urging, he twists, circling it, stimulating the way another tendril simultaneously begins on her nipple.]