In the twilight hours of Thalor, the sacred Elven city--where moonlight bathed everything in a luminous sheen and silence echoed louder than the choirs' songs--lived Shoshana Leafspire, once destined to become the city's High Priestess.
To most, Shoshana's fall from the Temple was a disgrace--a cautionary tale.
But to her, it was a transformation.
As a child of ten, Shoshana had been a dutiful one. She said her prayers to Sehanine, God of the Forest, and sang her hymns, did all her chores, but she hated every second of it. She would have preferred to be out in the forest running and playing.
Her father, Merith, the High Priest, forbade her from leaving the palace.
"You are to be a vessel of grace," he said, robed in ceremonial garb, kneeling before statues, barely looking at her. "Not some tree-running savage."
He rarely looked at her when they spoke. The statues, or scrolls, or altars always seemed more important--or the ever-burning flame at the heart of the temple.
Even the gods get more of him than I do,
she would think.
At thirteen, she found her way to the temple armory and got her first bow. She snuck it up to her room and kept it there for weeks, just touching it. She named it
Traymma
, which means 'tree runner'.
It was a month before she took her first shot. She hadn't taken it for that; she took it just to have. But then one day, her father angered her again. He had confined a young boy to the Temple for the trivial offence of feeding the squirrels. Shoshana had never understood her father's issues with such a thing.
That night, she snuck out of the Temple and took her first shot. She missed her target by thirty feet and it broke a palace window. She received twenty lashes for that.
When she turned eighteen, everything changed. Merith had spent years pretending she barely existed--his gaze passing through her as if she were just another piece of furniture in the Temple. More than once, she'd overheard him telling others she was a burden, that she would never pass her trials, that she had been
born wrong
.
Needless to say, they avoided each other when they could. And Shoshana had even less interest in fulfilling her duties as a priestess now then she had as a child. She went through the motions, but did little more than that.
While wandering around the lower reaches of the temple palace one day, trying to avoid her chores, she stumbled upon something that would change her life forever: the entrance to an ancient catacomb beneath the palace.
She spent the next several weeks searching the catacombs during any free time she could get. There were all kinds of old books and tomes in there. Some were texts she had seen referenced before, but never read. Most were entirely unfamiliar.
Then she found it. A large ornate golden door. The carving depicted a visceral scene, the likes of which she had never even imagined. In the center of the scene an altar, covered with what looked to be a soft duvet. All around it were men, women, Elves, Dwarves, Gnomes, people of all races. Each depicted in random acts of sexually explicit behavior. On the Altar itself lay an elven woman, wearing only a priestly crown. Her hands and legs tied to the altar, spreading her body out. Between her legs stood a large godlike being. His large chest covered in soft-looking hair, powerful arms stretched out as if welcoming everyone in the picture into an embrace.
Shoshana blushed as she looked at the door. She had never seen anything so explicit, and yet so beautiful. Her face flushed even more when she noticed that the godlike man's large cock was penetrating the priestess's pussy, and the point of penetration was where the keyhole for the door was.
That was the first time she touched herself. She had no idea what she was doing, but she sat on the floor unable to look away from the door. She reached for herself --clumsy, curious, aching for something she didn't understand. Every day for the next week she went back to that door. She searched around, looking for a key that would fit the odd, round keyhole in the door. After a week, she moved on to other rooms, though she still came back to that door at least once a week to stare at it and touch herself. She became obsessed with that door.
Two years passed and still she had not managed to open that door. Now she was nearing her trials. At twenty years of age, she was expected to take the trials and become a priestess of Sehanine. She had no desire to do so, but she also saw no other choice. Worst of all, as a priestess, she would have almost no free time to explore the catacombs. Her quest to open that door would be all but over.
A month before her trials began, she was lamenting her misfortune in front of the door when things took a turn. She had spent the night searching for a key, as usual, but to no avail. Now she lay in front of the door, her clothes abandoned, legs spread open, as she touched herself. Her eyes glued to the keyhole as her fingers played across her clit.
"Mmmm..." She cooed to the door. She often talked to it. Hoping one day one of the people on the door might speak up and offer her some clue as to what to do.
"Why won't you open for me," she said moving her hand in slow circles.
After two years, she still had no real clue what she was doing. Having grown up in a temple palace, in the strict household of her inattentive father, she had never had any sort of sexual education. Her mother had died when she was very young. And even after two years of using this door as inspiration, she had never managed to bring herself to orgasm.
That was all about to change though. Her frustration had reached a boiling point. So, when she would normally stop for the night, she decided to keep going.
"Damnit, just open!" she screamed as her fingers resumed their movement between her legs. Her eyes roamed the door, looking at the different scenes, but they always ended up back on the man in the center.
"Fuuuuuck," she moans as she began to feel pressure mounting within her. Something she hadn't felt before.
Her body started to tremble. She almost stopped, fearing that something was wrong, but she didn't--it felt good: different, wrong, but good. So, she kept going. And her eyes glued themselves to the door--to her prize. Soon the trembling turned into shaking, and then her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she experienced her first orgasm. She of course didn't know what it was, but that's what it was.
Her body shook as she cried out in pleasure. When it was over, she collapsed to the floor panting, her eyes watery. She may not have known what had just happened, but she knew it was special--and she needed it to happen again.
When she caught her breath, she sat back up, clearing her eyes out, and looked around the room. When her eyes came to rest on the door--and she did a double-take. Where the keyhole was, where there had always before been an empty hole, now protruded a thick round phallus. She carefully stood, her legs not yet steady beneath her, and moved to the door. She reached out and gently touched the phallic object. It felt like real flesh. She pulled it out and looked at it in her hand. It was, if she had to guess, roughly ten inches long and about two or three inches thick. Based on what she saw in the picture on the door, it appeared to be shaped like a real cock.
She put it back into the keyhole, and pushed it in all the way. She heard a sound, almost like a click and a moan at the same time. The door slowly began to open. Quickly she moved inside, not even caring--remembering--that she was naked. Once through the door she removed the phallic key and closed the door behind her.
Inside the room was an altar, similar to the one depicted in the scene on the door, though this one unfortunately, and unsurprisingly, was not surrounded by people having sex. No, instead it was surrounded by shelves of books. With a single small table to the left side. The room looked like it had not seen the touch of a single person in centuries. Excitedly, Shoshana scanned the room, looking for clues as to what the room was meant for. It didn't take her long to find it either. In the back of the room, behind the altar, there was a small pedestal. On that was a large book. By the look of it, it appeared to be a ceremonial book of some sort. Sacred and important. She grabbed it and brought it to the small table and sat down, eager to learn what she could.
On the cover of the book was a depiction of the same godlike man from the door, and in goldleaf gilded letters it said:
Aaos, God of Pleasure
. She knew instantly, without any further information that her days of worshipping, praying, and working for Sehanine were over. She had never felt a connection to Sehanine anyway. But Aaos.... she had been obsessed with him since she first found the door. She knew nothing of him, but she knew he was her purpose.
She opened the book and began to read. Over the next two weeks she read every word in that book, and several others in that room. Aaos was indeed the god of pleasure. His creed was:
"Love without fear, touch without shame, Burn with passion, again and again."
Centuries ago, he had quite the following according to some of the texts she found. But there were many who did not care for the practice of 'free love' that he and his followers followed. And over time he fell from grace from the other gods, and his followers began to become outcasts. Since his followers focused so much on the pursuit of physical pleasure, most did not marry. They practiced free love and open relationships. And as he fell from grace, his followers began to be seen as sluts and sexual deviants.
