Chapter 14
...with a red hood. He looked like a hermit and he wore a heavy beard.
"Has the procession begun yet? " George asked.
"No," replied the mystic. "But hurry, Fatimo is awaiting you."
George and I entered the dark passageway and followed the hooded man. The passageway led to a wooden door.
The man knocked and a voice answered.
"Come in, the door is open."
At a table in the back of a sober room, a man with intense black eyes sat stolidly with a white robe and gold hood. He gradually lifted himself and greeted us with a special sign.
"Welcome my friends."
As he moved towards us, he revealed to us a splendid face lined with wrinkles that come only from deep suffering.
"I am glad you have come," he once again extended his hand.
"This is your friend who wishes to be initiated into our order?" he asked George. '' Yes,'' George nodded.
"I believe that we may accept her," he said softly as he walked behind me and gazed at me with his cold deep eyes.
I looked him over also. His face was that of a thinker, thin and intellectual and his forehead was wide. He seemed to have the eyes of a dreamer and yet one could see that he was a realist and a great observer. His name was Boris.
I learned that Boris was the high priest of this somber cult and that he was the one who would preside at the great unveiling.
With a sign of his hand he beckoned us to follow him and we were led into a dimly lit room where ten men were kneeling around a drape that must have hid a great painting. I was asked to come to the center and make myself known and George was asked to hide in the background.
There was a hushed silence and I revealed my name, my age and what I did. Slowly I was obsessed with the desire of telling them what was deep within me. It was so bewildering that I couldn't believe that this voice I was hearing which was giving away my wildest dreams, was my own.
I was asked to strip slowly and Boris said the procession of the candles would take place.
I unzipped my silk dress which was glued to my body line a glove. I let it fall to the ground and stepped out of it. A cultist came and picked it up and knelt beside me inhaling the perfume of the gathered dress.
I was wearing nothing else but my bra, panties, nylons and my red high-heeled shoes. Boris walked around me and inspected my naked flesh.
The n®xt item to fall was my bra and it was picked up by another member and brought to his mouth and nose to flavor the aromatic perfume.
My panties were drawn off by the high-priest Boris who sniffed at them and gave them to another hooded member. Then came my fine nylon hose which was tossed to two other members.
Now I was completely in the nude except for my high heels. When I started to take them off, I was told that they should remain on my feet.
The monk-like men with their hairy faces were kneeling around me each with a garment that I dropped from my body a few seconds ago.
Then I was asked to dance according to my feelings. I hesitated and then began very slowly to dance what must have been a lament. When I saw the somber faces in front of me and behind me, I began to find the situation a bit funny so I stepped up the pace. Indeed, I must have resembled a burlesque dancer and I gave off a few bumps just for kicks. The silence, the odor of men and my naked body must have excited me for a sensual delight invaded my body.
Second upon second, I felt the pangs of lust push through my skin and possess me. No one in the room .moved and I became infuriated. I almost wanted to call George to take me right then and there, but I was too proud to do so and besides I did not want to ruin this initiation.
I thought that I noticed a prick rising under the robe of one of the cultists. I rushed up to him and unhooded him and his eyes were fixed upon me with hunger and passion.
The fixed stare frightened me and excited me at the same time. I backed away not knowing what to do.
Due to the darkness of the room, I stumbled over another man in a white tunic and he rose to keep me from falling. I felt his body against mine. His cock was stiff and crept along my back and his warm breath brushed my cheekbone. He pushed me back into the center of the group.
I continued my dance and everytime I moved I stimulated my sensual desire. It was hard to understand and even to explain it now leads to difficulties.
My dance became more and more violent and I knew that I had to be possessed before I would unveil one of the bearded men and creep under his robe and suck on the cock that was occupying my mind.
I was in a frenzy and my movements must have been lewd. I stuck my ass way out and begged for someone to come and ram it. No one seemed to be interested. I cupped my breasts and made round O's with my mouth in order to make myself clear. I was a human flash of passion out of control.
My head was lost in the clouds when I vaguely noticed that the several men that were circling me were crowding in on me. They lifted their tunic to their waist and fastened it with a cord that they used as a belt.
Every one of them was gifted with an enormous over-sized prick. They were hunting me down like lancers who were preparing to thrust into a tigress.
I fended myself off by taking hold of two of the massive cocks and jerking at them violently. Soft sighs filled the room.
Behind me I could feel a ram-rod which was tickling my ass. My bottom wiggled to avoid this huge instrument. But in vain, for it seemed to fix its aim. I felt its sticky tip preparing to take me from the rear.
At the same time two heads bent down to mouth my breasts and before I had time to say 'Pussy' the two mouths were firmly sucking on my good-sized teats.
The high priest Boris came up to me and looked me in the eye. All the while he stared coldly and unblinkingly at me as he adjusted his tunic and stepped back to ready the aim of his gigantic cock.
He came forward and lifted me up by the hips and placed me on his prick. I wiggled and turned and screwed myself on. The two mouths were fastened to my breasts and my body seemed to be possessed by the demons of lust. I groaned with the painful surge that hurtled up my vagina.
From the back I could feel the slow penetration of another cock and I had to open my wide ass-hole to receive this new immensity.
Four strong men were carrying my burning body over to the drapped painting. I was crazed by the static movement and the smell of their hair. My two hands squeezed the two cocks which I refused to relinquish. My whole attitude caused me to shake violently, and this caused my hands to grip and masturbate the two boiling penises.
Then a frenzy took hold of the stalwart men and they became active. The high-priest pumped me in and out and the man in the rear rolled around and I could feel him puffing near my head.
Boris seemed to he in raptures but kept his wits about him long enough to give the order:
"Draw back the curtain." It was a huge painting of a superb man. The man was like one I had never before seen. He was the picture of manly beauty.
My excitement increased and I almost lost my head for I imagined that the cock of the painting was standing up rigid and urging me on.
I was festooned with penises and yet I longed more than anything else for this prick that was only a painting. I gave a deep sigh and my lips drooled to lick the painting. Boris fixed me with his steel grey and black eyes.
"Bring the painting to life," he ordered.
It was exactly what I wanted, The men who were pistoning me and lubricating within me carried me to the sex of the painting and I buried my face in the canvas.
But lo and behold, I tasted real flesh and I could smell the odor of a live dick. I sucked on it and being a bit crazed I must have bitten into it also.
At the time I could have sworn that it said "ouch" but I must have been imagining things, for how could a painting talk back?
I licked up and down and put the balls in my mouth and then suckled the head of the prick. My hands still kept masturbating the two hooded men beside me.
All of a sudden I could feel two hot jets on both sides of my legs and I realized that the two men who had been caressed by my aching hands were ejaculating in spurts. I was sure of it when they let their limp dicks remain in my locked hands.
Sweat rolled down my back and across my forehead as I continued t receive the most frenetic of experiences. I was jabbed from all angles. Boris was shoving in and out of me with regularity and my ass was being reamed but good by a fantastic instrument. The nipples of my breasts were tongued at and my mouth was swallowing the cock of a man who was only a painting. Yet the prick tasted so real I could have sworn to it.
The man in the back jammed to the bottom of my ass and this caused Boris to speed up his strokes. Then I tongued the long dick more feverishly then before.
Suddenly everything went black. There must have been an explosion in the room for all I could make out before I swooned was the moaning and cries of some four or five men. Then I fell to the ground in a pool of warm sperm. I even tasted sperm and as I recovered some, it trickled down my mouth, or at least I imagined it to be so.
One odd thing stayed in my mind. I felt, that the painting had shivered and cried just before I fell. It was true that my crazed state had caused me to lose my head and I was haunted by all sorts of things.
George had to lift me into the car. When I regained consciousness for good, I looked up at him and put my hand in his hair.
"Poor George, you didn't have the usual time that you have. It wasn't any fun standing in the background," I teased him.
When I looked at him to get the reaction, I saw a curious sight for he seemed to resemble the painting and he was smiling ironically. Very ironically and I wondered about something all the way home.
Today George and I are married. I must tell you about our married life for it is quite unusual and more lively than those rather dull times we spent before our wedding. We have many friends and they come from all parts of the world and our adventures continue. In fact we have been paid visits by official statesmen and dignitaries.
A king who recently came to our house of "love" invited us to stay with him next year. He was completely happy with his vacation here.
But I don't think that George and I will go anywhere next year for we are quite happy just as we are.
Right now I am preparing dinner for our old friends. You may remember some of them: Monica, Corrine, Alan, Mr. Kyoto and Boris. They haven't changed and we have them over from time to time wih the usual gay parties.
It is strange that they seek our company now. We have too many friends and I think that we should start a school. When I told Corrine about this idea, she merely smiled and said:
"This time I'll come as a pupil," and as she said this she embraced me in her own peculiar, but very satisfying manner.