Harvest Of The Virgin Sacrifice, Filled With Hot Seed
glistening shoulders rippling
in the midday sunlight. That day I cried, as much for her as for
myself, I felt as though the coming year would be intolerable
without her and I envied her for the fervor of passionate
consummation that awaited her.
    Once I am inside the palanquin I pull back my
hood and look around. The interior of the vehicle is splendid. I am
sitting on a pile of embroidered cushions and the walls are hung
with velvet draperies. The silver ceiling above me is carved into a
scene. It is the god Xerastes, his own vassals (lesser gods of our
faith) Pytheum and Logastum and the goddess Sabina, she who gives
her body so that we may have life.
    Xerastes sits on a bed with Sabina on top of
him lowering herself onto his erect cock, his three faces contorted
into a wild groan of lust. Pytheum and Logastum stand behind them
with pained looks on their faces as they await their turn with her.
As for Sabina the look on her face is one of complete ecstasy. The
carving was clearly made by a master smith, for it is detailed and
finely wrought. The eroticism of the image is obvious, but beneath
it is certain nobility as well. I brush my fingers over the taught
leg muscles of the carved Xerastes and long to slip a finger inside
of myself, but I do not.
    Today I will remain untouched, my unquenched
thirst building in me bit by bit until I allow the Potentate to
release it in a gush of ecstasy. The bumpy wavelike motion of the
palanquin isn’t helping though and by the time it is set down I
have become so wet that I imagine the red silk knot tied at my
entrance must be soaked with my lust. I hear the footsteps of the
men as they retreat from the palanquin and I wait until the sound
of them has died off completely before I emerge.

Chapter Four
    The Temple of Xerastes
    I am standing inside the high wall
surrounding the temple of Xerastes. Xerastes is the highest of the
gods. He is a broad shouldered man with three faces, the face of
mercy, the face of wrath and the face of passion. His scepter is
the trunk of a great oak, fashioned at the end into a point that he
throws like a spear. Xerastes comes to earth and is incarnated into
mortal form as the potentate, as his vassals, Pytheum and Logastum,
are incarnated into mortal form as the vassals chosen by the
potentate. Every year a virgin of great beauty is given to them as
a gift so that they may fill her with their seed. The pleasure that
all three will take in this act is of the utmost importance as it
is this which will form the gift’s transcendence. After she has
been entered time and time again by the holy men, after she has
taken them in her mouth and slaked their lusts and she herself has
been brought into the bliss of orgasm many times, then she can be
sent to the grey tombs where she too will be incarnated with the
spirit of the goddess Sabina, a beautiful woman who satisfies
sexual appetites.
    The courtyard that I stand in is planted with
every imaginable tree, bush, or flower, most of which are foreign
to me. Their brightness almost hurts my eyes after the dim interior
of the palanquin. A marble path leads down the center of the garden
courtyard to the massive steps of the temple, but before I can
start upon it I must cross a featureless door of grey slate set
into the ground. My steps sound hollowly within it as I cross, this
is the door to the grey tombs, but I barely register its presence.
I am far too focused on the coming of my reaping, the frenzy of
lust that lies before me.
    As I walk down the path my heart beats
furiously and my craving grows into a painful ache. I have waited
so long and now finally they will have me. Each footfall is another
moment of delayed pleasure. My desire is so great it hurts. I know
I should be walking slowly and deliberately in order to do justice
to the solemnity of the ritual, but my excitement is such that it’s
all I can do to stop myself from skipping up the steps of the
temple to the archway beneath the marble columns.
    I

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