I enter the cool darkness of the temple, wearing only my white silk robe and a diadem of tiny stars. Inside all is silent, the darkness only relieved by torches held in sconces on the walls. I am aware that today I am the sacrifice to be made here.
Moving to the altar, I spread my arms wide, offering myself to worship. My nipples prickle hard and erect beneath my robe, the stubble of my pubic region rustles against the silk. I have shaved, and the lips of my vulva and exposed clitoris are caressed by the fabric, tantalising me, tempting me to seek my own pleasure. My fingers ache to run up and down the lips of my vagina, to fall to the floor and stroke my tiny budlike clitoris until I roll around in ecstasy. But not today – today the pleasure of my body will be for my priest alone.
Carefully, I trace the ancient dance on the floor. Around the first altar, the length of the second, anti-clockwise around the second, and finishing back at the tomb. My lover-to-be waits within.
Drawing my sword, I cut aside the shroud of the Tomb. There he stands in his magnificence. His brow is slightly drawn as if frowning a little, his hair is dark and short, his skin tanned and smooth. A little stubble lines his cheeks. His chest is broad, his shoulders straight and wide, arms crossed with muscular biceps. His fingers are those of an artist, long, clever, slightly roughened. His hands are incredibly strong, yet so gentle. His body is in perfect proportion, tapering to hips I long to wrap myself around, muscular thighs that I ache to squeeze. He is in repose, eyes closed, asleep until I awaken him.
I raise my sword and speak the incantation. At once, his eyes fly open. Dark eyes, burning with warm flecks of chocolate and green. His intense gaze swivels and focuses on me. Inhuman, godly. I shiver, afraid of what I have unleashed, and step back involuntarily as he takes three steps forward. He is not yet complete – I hurry to anoint him with water, wave the incense over him, as his eyes follow me – unafraid and seemily contemptuous of the trivial details that will restore him to life. He speaks again, commanding me. I fetch his robe, his crown and dress him. I long to touch him, to caress his shoulders, his firm waist, yet I dare not. I am in awe of him, knowing what I must do and yet in fear of this man - part God, part Human, all masculine beauty.
Again he gives me his command, to restore him to life. I kneel, knowing what is demanded of me. Gently, I part his robe and reach within. I find his penis, his sacred lance, and begin to rub my hands up and down it most gently. Eleven times my hands caress it, rising up and down its length, watching it burst forth into life. It raises its head all purple and voluptuous pleasure before me. It rises massive and erect from the nest of his soft pubic hair, where it lay softly circled by his balls. I caress those as well, although this is not required. He frowns but says nothing, concentrating on the rising tide of warmth that restores him to life. I quiver on my knees before him, knowing that soon I must service him fully – hoping only that he finds pleasure with me and is pleased.
This time when he speaks, the cold mask has withdrawn and he smiles down upon me. Taking my hand he raises me to my feet, accepting the offering I have made. I feel overjoyed to be held so gently in his fist, I feel almost faint with pleasure. He leads me to the altar, and taking my hand gently, singing my praises, he lifts me upon it. He steps back and gives me the privacy of the veil – drawing the curtain before me.
As he intones his praise of my virtues and invokes me to him, I draw off my robe and wait shivering on the altar. My nipples once more prickle erect, I part my thighs with difficulty, shy and awkward at assuming this vulnerable position while awaiting his presence. My sex is opened, the lips parted and revealing their moist and hot centre, all the more naked in their shaved appearance. A trickle of warm fluid seeps down my thighs, despite my fear I am welcoming and excited. I am open and inviting, exposing myself to him completely. I give myself over to the words of the Goddess, entreating him to draw near, bursting with my love for him, tinged with fear and anticipation.