I write BDSM erotica. Find my books on Smashwords and Amazon—I write Mf, MMf, and Ff stories with themes of BDSM, power exchange, humiliation, objectification, discipline, consensual non-consent, and other kinky things. My stories are strictly NSWF and 18+ and are fantasy only.
Twitter: @eenslaved for micro-erotica and writing updates
Newsletter: @eenslavederotica for exclusive content
Website: @eunbound for where you can find me
Alys bit her lip as the acolyte's shaft sank into her. He possessed a magnificent physique, and he was certainly eager to play his part in the ritual. He was already hard when he came to her. When he looked at Alys’ nudity, his nostrils flared, as a stallion’s might when he scented a mare in heat. The acolyte had clearly performed the rites many times before, but it was Alys' first ritual. Her first time.
First, she and the acolyte had presented themselves naked to Lucretia, the wealthy woman who had petitioned the temple for this communion. Lucretia had inspected them closely, running her fingers over the ridged, flexing abdomen of the male acolyte, circling the flat discs of his nipples, caressing his thick thighs and muscled buttocks.
She was rougher with Alys; the woman yanked her hair to tip her head back, squeezed her throat and pinched and twisted her nipples. Alys endured the abuse of her nipples in silence until the woman was satisfied. Lucretia nodded, and the priest gave them the order to proceed.
Then Alys had knelt before the acolyte, her mouth open, waiting to receive his rod. The male had taken his cock in hand and slapped Alys' face with the heavy shaft until her cheeks were red and her eyes watered. He laid his cock, so hot and hard, upon Alys' face. She breathed in the masculine scent of him through her nose and felt the pit inside her stomach widen at the thought that soon, this male would enter her body.
But first, she accepted him into her mouth-hole for worship. It was so hard to relax and let him push deeply into her gullet. Her jaw hurt and she couldn't time her breathing right. It was nothing like her prayers with the marble and stone phalluses. His silken flesh was so much thicker, throbbing in her mouth, and he gave her no quarter.
"The gods are pleased by your offering, Lucretia," she heard the priest murmur. "This acolyte is much beloved by them. They will look favorably upon the gift you've made of this slave to him."
"I hope so," Lucretia replied. "Your temple places a high price upon your virgin slaves."
Alys lost the thread of their conversation then, for the acolyte's cock was plundering her mouth without mercy, and she was struggling to breathe. She received the fucking of her mouth-hole with noisy heaving and sputtering coughs. When the acolyte came, he roared out his pleasure, jabbing his cock forward until was gagging, her body recoiling at this rude intrusion. She did her best to swallow all of the hot seed that spurted forth, but by the end of it her chin was wet with drool and come. There was seed on her chest, too.
For the next rite, the acolyte helped the priest raise Alys' arms above her head, shackling her wrists to the pillars, and doing the same to her ankles. Embracing the gods, they called this pose.
"Have you brought an instrument of your choice?" the priest asked Lucretia.
Lucretia opened a thin, flat box and withdrew from it brutish whip with many leather tails, showing it to him. "It's been blessed by one of your brethren."
"An excellent choice." He accepted the flogger and presented it to the acolyte. "Make her sing, now."
The acolyte gripped the whip with a familiar hand, and proceeded to lay down a fierce lashing upon Alys' defenseless bottom. His muscled arm lifted and fell with practiced skill and without remorse, until Alys was in tears. Her screams and sobs rent the air, to the pleasure of her priest and patroness. She danced in her chains and not until she hung unresisting to the lash did the acolyte stop. She was weeping and the acolyte was breathing hard from the exertion. By this time, the acolyte's rod had stiffened again from her beating.
She was unshackled then, and made to prostrate herself at the edge of the divan in the room. She clung to the sheets, sobbing.
Lucretia approached the acolyte, holding a jade green jar. She daubed her fingers with the ointment and wrapped her hand around his cock. He towered over the patroness, bowing his head as he received this anointing.
Alys grew quite apprehensive at the sounds of Lucretia slickening the acolyte's cock. The priest noticed.
"You're doing wonderfully, slave," the priest intoned. "The gods are drinking down your pain. They find it quite intoxicating. Now, open your stance wider."
Alys felt the wealthy woman guiding the acolyte's cock to the tight whorl of her anus.
“Open yourself, slave!” Lucretia hissed, slapping her flank. “Receive this gift.”
She felt her bottom-hole widening, stretching around his girth. She moaned, a mournful sound of woe ripped straight from the heart of her.
"Fuck her well, acolyte," Lucretia urged. "Please the gods so that they might honor my request."
Alys whimpered as his cock pressed in deeper still. She longed to bury her face and her agony in the cradle of her arms, but the priests and priestesses had been very clear: she was to look at the worshipper for whom they were performing this ritual. Her face grimacing with pain, her eyes clung desperately to the woman's pale face and intent blue eyes.
Lucretia caught her breath. "You chose well for me, priest. This slave is divine."
"Yes," the priest murmured. "She is the perfect vessel."
"Fuck her harder," Lucretia raised her voice. "Now, acolyte."
"Ah!" Alys cried out as the rod penetrating her withdrew and surged forward with an almost violent power. She dug her fingers into the divan so hard, one of her nails broke. "Oh, please—ah!"
Lucretia's eyes were flashing with triumph. "The gods liked that. Keep going," she commanded with excitement. "Don't stop."
"Excellent, excellent," the priest praised the acolyte. "Break her in to the way of things, acolyte. This is her purpose. To take a man's rod into her body and receive his seed. Show her what she was made for. You’ve been blessed by the gods, and through your body, the gods’ will be done."
The acolyte groaned and increased his forceful thrusting. His hands squeezed Alys' scourged and stinging bottom, making her howl. She gazed in despair upon the pitiless face of her patroness. She was sure that she was being split in two, that he was tearing her apart, that she would never be the same again. All because a wealthy patroness desired to make her wish known to the gods and could afford to commission this ritual. Alys was just a means to the end.
"It hurts, doesn't it, slave?" Lucretia's eyes narrowed. "Good. You’re a slave, it's supposed to hurt for you. This is how you worship our gods."
The acolyte held out for as long as he could. He snared Alys' hair in one hand and wound her long tresses around his broad hand, using her hair like reins to pull her head back. Alys whimpered to see the satisfaction in Lucretia's eyes as she beheld Alys' bottom being broken in.
At last his second orgasm boiled forth and he groaned, hips jerking against Alys' punished bottom as he poured his essence into her. When he withdrew, his softening cock slipping from Alys' stretched bottom-hole, she could feel his leavings inside her, oozing out. Lucretia drew near, her elegant fingers dabbing up the acolyte's come as she pushed it back inside Alys' gaping hole.
She waited there, recumbent and used, as Lucretia attended to the acolyte. The patroness was gently cleaning his genitals with a warm and slightly fragrant washcloth, dipping the cloth into a basin and wringing it dry of the holy waters.
The priest knelt beside Alys' prone body. She gave a shudder as she felt his fingers dipping to the well of her cunt.
"My child look," the priest said to Lucretia. "See how the slave enjoyed the taking of her bottom-hole through the pain of it? The gods are well-pleased indeed."
"My thanks to you for the selection of this slave then," Lucretia replied. "It appears she was worth the high price."
At last, when the acolyte had readied again, they proceeded to the final rite. Alys rested on her back on the divan, with the three others standing above her.
"We make this offering to you, gods," the priest murmured. "Slave, spread your knees. You are a vessel; you must be completely open to the gods. Lucretia, help her."
The woman stood at Alys' head and grabbed hold of her ankles, pulling Alys' legs up. Alys stared up at the patroness. She thought to herself, I will never forget her face. This is the woman for whom the gods take my virginity.
The acolyte gripped his cock, stroking himself to hardness. His hands came down to brace himself as he lowered his shaft to Alys' cunt. He stroked the head of his cock over Alys' folds, wetting his tip.
"Fill this vessel of the gods," the priest urged. "Ride her hard now."
With one thrust, the acolyte filled Alys' untried cunt with his hard member. She gasped out a protest of the sharp, tearing pain. He held still, pressed deeply inside. Alys felt him throbbing inside her, the bruising penetration an unfamiliar ache.
"It is done, her virgin's blood is a sacrifice the gods will not deny," the priest pronounced.
"Batter her womb, acolyte," Lucretia demanded. She held tightly to Alys's legs, pulling them back higher, spreading her further. "Fill her cunt with every thrust!"
He obeyed. His hips snapped forward with vigorous thrusts, his skin slapping loudly against Alys. Alys stared up at the three people surrounding her, partaking in the use of her body. She felt the acolyte's shaft stroking deep inside her, his pubis grinding against hers. She bit her lip in confusion at the storm of feelings within her. Something powerful was coiling tighter inside her. His rod was stirring up a tempest that felt unstoppable. Was this what it felt like, had the gods taken possession of her body? What were they drawing forth from her? What.....
Alys’ mouth opened and a cry poured out, as endless as her own release. Her body clenched. Above her, the acolyte roared, head thrown back, hips thrust forward. She felt the rush of his seed like another thrust.
He remained pressed to her even as his member softened. Alys was afraid to look down; she felt so wet and her body was sticky with sweat.
"He may have bred her,” the priest said.
"This first time? Do you think so?” Lucretia sounded fervently greedy at this prospect.
“As I said, this acolyte is a favorite of the gods, and he clearly found this slave to be a fine offering. I wouldn’t be surprised if her womb bears fruit. When the milk comes, you’ll be able to sup from her breasts to receive your sacrament.”
Reblogged
Sent!
This blog contains adult content. In order to view it freely, please log in or register
and confirm you are 18 years or older
"Vessel"
BDSM erotica. Fictional characters over 18.
Alys bit her lip as the acolyte's shaft sank into her. He possessed a magnificent physique, and he was certainly eager to play his part in the ritual. He was already hard when he came to her. When he looked at Alys’ nudity, his nostrils flared, as a stallion’s might when he scented a mare in heat. The acolyte had clearly performed the rites many times before, but it was Alys' first ritual. Her first time.
First, she and the acolyte had presented themselves naked to Lucretia, the wealthy woman who had petitioned the temple for this communion. Lucretia had inspected them closely, running her fingers over the ridged, flexing abdomen of the male acolyte, circling the flat discs of his nipples, caressing his thick thighs and muscled buttocks.
She was rougher with Alys; the woman yanked her hair to tip her head back, squeezed her throat and pinched and twisted her nipples. Alys endured the abuse of her nipples in silence until the woman was satisfied. Lucretia nodded, and the priest gave them the order to proceed.
Then Alys had knelt before the acolyte, her mouth open, waiting to receive his rod. The male had taken his cock in hand and slapped Alys' face with the heavy shaft until her cheeks were red and her eyes watered. He laid his cock, so hot and hard, upon Alys' face. She breathed in the masculine scent of him through her nose and felt the pit inside her stomach widen at the thought that soon, this male would enter her body.
But first, she accepted him into her mouth-hole for worship. It was so hard to relax and let him push deeply into her gullet. Her jaw hurt and she couldn't time her breathing right. It was nothing like her prayers with the marble and stone phalluses. His silken flesh was so much thicker, throbbing in her mouth, and he gave her no quarter.
"The gods are pleased by your offering, Lucretia," she heard the priest murmur. "This acolyte is much beloved by them. They will look favorably upon the gift you've made of this slave to him."
"I hope so," Lucretia replied. "Your temple places a high price upon your virgin slaves."
Alys lost the thread of their conversation then, for the acolyte's cock was plundering her mouth without mercy, and she was struggling to breathe. She received the fucking of her mouth-hole with noisy heaving and sputtering coughs. When the acolyte came, he roared out his pleasure, jabbing his cock forward until was gagging, her body recoiling at this rude intrusion. She did her best to swallow all of the hot seed that spurted forth, but by the end of it her chin was wet with drool and come. There was seed on her chest, too.
For the next rite, the acolyte helped the priest raise Alys' arms above her head, shackling her wrists to the pillars, and doing the same to her ankles. Embracing the gods, they called this pose.
"Have you brought an instrument of your choice?" the priest asked Lucretia.
Lucretia opened a thin, flat box and withdrew from it brutish whip with many leather tails, showing it to him. "It's been blessed by one of your brethren."
"An excellent choice." He accepted the flogger and presented it to the acolyte. "Make her sing, now."
The acolyte gripped the whip with a familiar hand, and proceeded to lay down a fierce lashing upon Alys' defenseless bottom. His muscled arm lifted and fell with practiced skill and without remorse, until Alys was in tears. Her screams and sobs rent the air, to the pleasure of her priest and patroness. She danced in her chains and not until she hung unresisting to the lash did the acolyte stop. She was weeping and the acolyte was breathing hard from the exertion. By this time, the acolyte's rod had stiffened again from her beating.
She was unshackled then, and made to prostrate herself at the edge of the divan in the room. She clung to the sheets, sobbing.
Lucretia approached the acolyte, holding a jade green jar. She daubed her fingers with the ointment and wrapped her hand around his cock. He towered over the patroness, bowing his head as he received this anointing.
Alys grew quite apprehensive at the sounds of Lucretia slickening the acolyte's cock. The priest noticed.
"You're doing wonderfully, slave," the priest intoned. "The gods are drinking down your pain. They find it quite intoxicating. Now, open your stance wider."
Alys felt the wealthy woman guiding the acolyte's cock to the tight whorl of her anus.
“Open yourself, slave!” Lucretia hissed, slapping her flank. “Receive this gift.”
She felt her bottom-hole widening, stretching around his girth. She moaned, a mournful sound of woe ripped straight from the heart of her.
"Fuck her well, acolyte," Lucretia urged. "Please the gods so that they might honor my request."
Alys whimpered as his cock pressed in deeper still. She longed to bury her face and her agony in the cradle of her arms, but the priests and priestesses had been very clear: she was to look at the worshipper for whom they were performing this ritual. Her face grimacing with pain, her eyes clung desperately to the woman's pale face and intent blue eyes.
Lucretia caught her breath. "You chose well for me, priest. This slave is divine."
"Yes," the priest murmured. "She is the perfect vessel."
"Fuck her harder," Lucretia raised her voice. "Now, acolyte."
"Ah!" Alys cried out as the rod penetrating her withdrew and surged forward with an almost violent power. She dug her fingers into the divan so hard, one of her nails broke. "Oh, please—ah!"
Lucretia's eyes were flashing with triumph. "The gods liked that. Keep going," she commanded with excitement. "Don't stop."
"Excellent, excellent," the priest praised the acolyte. "Break her in to the way of things, acolyte. This is her purpose. To take a man's rod into her body and receive his seed. Show her what she was made for. You’ve been blessed by the gods, and through your body, the gods’ will be done."
The acolyte groaned and increased his forceful thrusting. His hands squeezed Alys' scourged and stinging bottom, making her howl. She gazed in despair upon the pitiless face of her patroness. She was sure that she was being split in two, that he was tearing her apart, that she would never be the same again. All because a wealthy patroness desired to make her wish known to the gods and could afford to commission this ritual. Alys was just a means to the end.
"It hurts, doesn't it, slave?" Lucretia's eyes narrowed. "Good. You’re a slave, it's supposed to hurt for you. This is how you worship our gods."
The acolyte held out for as long as he could. He snared Alys' hair in one hand and wound her long tresses around his broad hand, using her hair like reins to pull her head back. Alys whimpered to see the satisfaction in Lucretia's eyes as she beheld Alys' bottom being broken in.
At last his second orgasm boiled forth and he groaned, hips jerking against Alys' punished bottom as he poured his essence into her. When he withdrew, his softening cock slipping from Alys' stretched bottom-hole, she could feel his leavings inside her, oozing out. Lucretia drew near, her elegant fingers dabbing up the acolyte's come as she pushed it back inside Alys' gaping hole.
She waited there, recumbent and used, as Lucretia attended to the acolyte. The patroness was gently cleaning his genitals with a warm and slightly fragrant washcloth, dipping the cloth into a basin and wringing it dry of the holy waters.
The priest knelt beside Alys' prone body. She gave a shudder as she felt his fingers dipping to the well of her cunt.
"My child look," the priest said to Lucretia. "See how the slave enjoyed the taking of her bottom-hole through the pain of it? The gods are well-pleased indeed."
"My thanks to you for the selection of this slave then," Lucretia replied. "It appears she was worth the high price."
At last, when the acolyte had readied again, they proceeded to the final rite. Alys rested on her back on the divan, with the three others standing above her.
"We make this offering to you, gods," the priest murmured. "Slave, spread your knees. You are a vessel; you must be completely open to the gods. Lucretia, help her."
The woman stood at Alys' head and grabbed hold of her ankles, pulling Alys' legs up. Alys stared up at the patroness. She thought to herself, I will never forget her face. This is the woman for whom the gods take my virginity.
The acolyte gripped his cock, stroking himself to hardness. His hands came down to brace himself as he lowered his shaft to Alys' cunt. He stroked the head of his cock over Alys' folds, wetting his tip.
"Fill this vessel of the gods," the priest urged. "Ride her hard now."
With one thrust, the acolyte filled Alys' untried cunt with his hard member. She gasped out a protest of the sharp, tearing pain. He held still, pressed deeply inside. Alys felt him throbbing inside her, the bruising penetration an unfamiliar ache.
"It is done, her virgin's blood is a sacrifice the gods will not deny," the priest pronounced.
"Batter her womb, acolyte," Lucretia demanded. She held tightly to Alys's legs, pulling them back higher, spreading her further. "Fill her cunt with every thrust!"
He obeyed. His hips snapped forward with vigorous thrusts, his skin slapping loudly against Alys. Alys stared up at the three people surrounding her, partaking in the use of her body. She felt the acolyte's shaft stroking deep inside her, his pubis grinding against hers. She bit her lip in confusion at the storm of feelings within her. Something powerful was coiling tighter inside her. His rod was stirring up a tempest that felt unstoppable. Was this what it felt like, had the gods taken possession of her body? What were they drawing forth from her? What.....
Alys’ mouth opened and a cry poured out, as endless as her own release. Her body clenched. Above her, the acolyte roared, head thrown back, hips thrust forward. She felt the rush of his seed like another thrust.
He remained pressed to her even as his member softened. Alys was afraid to look down; she felt so wet and her body was sticky with sweat.
"He may have bred her,” the priest said.
"This first time? Do you think so?” Lucretia sounded fervently greedy at this prospect.
“As I said, this acolyte is a favorite of the gods, and he clearly found this slave to be a fine offering. I wouldn’t be surprised if her womb bears fruit. When the milk comes, you’ll be able to sup from her breasts to receive your sacrament.”