The Altar of Desire

Sara gazed up into the night sky, shifting slightly. The chains attached to the leather straps around her wrists clinked slightly, but weren't going anywhere. There was at least enough give in them so that it wasn't uncomfortable, and the black stone altar seemed to still be hot from the day's sun. She had volunteered for this, but somehow the idea of being an offering to Aphrodite was losing its charm. She wondered what had possessed her to do it.

At last she felt a movement in the air, and turned her head to see a tall, slender woman standing there. Her skin was olive, one that had stroked the sun but not been burned. Her hair was dark and flowing, falling over her shoulders in a waterfall of black, and her the rest of her... wow. She wore no clothes to cover her, and Sara was not complaining. The woman smiled, and moved forward, a strip of purest silk in hand. The cloth was bound around Sara's head, blindfolding her.

She felt a touch on her ankle. Fingertips resting there. Then, slowly, they began to move up her leg, gliding so smoothly across her bare skin. It felt... exploratory. Like someone tuning a new instrument. The fingers continued upwards, over her thighs and hips, up her side, moving lightly. They murmured up the underside of her arm, and then down the top, crossing her shoulder and stroking up her neck. They paused briefly on her head, two sets of fingers massaging her head for a few moments, relaxing her, making it impossible to be concerned about the strange touch.

Soon the fingers moved down again, caressing her cheek as they passed, outlining her neck and shoulder, tracing around her outstretched arm, then whispering downwards, down her side and over her hip, descending all the way back down to her ankle again. There they stopped, and Sara somehow sensed that she had been accepted and claimed. She felt the backs of two delicate sets of nails gliding up the insides of her legs and she almost held her breath. But they slid off into the air just as they reached her inner thighs, the tone playful, teasing, of a person who enjoyed being in control.

For a few moments all was still. She could hear no movement, and the blindfold kept her from seeing. The only sign that anyone remained was a subtle scent, one that seemed to speak of flowers and light, but under whose breath lay a hint of darker desires and promises to be fulfilled. Then a she felt a soft pair of lips being pressed against her own, bringing with them even more whispers of pleasures untold. Her eyes closed under the blindfold, the quiet heat of it slowing her thoughts to nothingness. She kissed back, her own lips moving with her captor's, but as she tried to increase the intensity the lips drew back, leaving the very tip of a tongue flicking over her parted lips as they did.

The a kiss was placed on her neck, this one a little more definite, then another one in the nape of her neck. A warm trail moved across her, each touch of the lips softer and more passionate than even the best she had felt before, yet they were never rushed. She could feel herself surrendering to the enjoyment of it all, forgetting about her situation and giving in to the will of her midnight lady.

The touches glided up her arm, until they came to her upturned wrist, held securely by the soft leather. A lingering touch caressed her arm just below the restraint, and then there was a sudden sharpness. Sara jolted, the bite whipping her out of her complacency, her nerves alight with the tiny nip of pain. But even as she started, she felt a hot tongue press against the mark, a balm on her hurt, letting it fizzle away and dissolve into a different kind of pleasure. But now she was fully awake again, and par of her now longed to feel that needle of pleasure again.

More kisses followed, and every so often there would be a sudden nip, instantly calmed, just enough to make her fidget, biting her lip at each tiny release. As she felt them awakening her even further, Sara started to feel the need for more. Not just more bites and kisses, more of everything. It wasn't just the fire in her nerves that had been kindled.

She felt cool breath on her face again, and she tilted her head up eagerly for another kiss. But even as their lips touched it ended, the fleeting glimpse of her tongue all that was left. Sara strained against the cuffs, trying to get more. She knew, could sense that if she was just a tiny bit closer she could have what she desired, but she was held fast. She lay back again, and as her head touched the dark marble, she felt a kiss just beneath her ear, a sudden bolt of electric intensity making her gasp. This bite was not hindered, and was allowed to spread across her senses, distracting her. As she focused on it, the pain fading into a sharp memory, she felt a warmth close over her breast, felt a tongue swirl around and over her arousal, made hard by the cool night air.

Her back arched, leaning into the sensation, wanting more. Her senses ached for it. The tongue now caressing her all that she had ever desired, had she but known it. A hint of a bite, adding such flavour to the contact, made her lips open in pleasure, a convulsive moan spilling forth from her. She wanted more, to have the stranger, for them to claim her right that moment. Anything to have another few moments of those supple lips.

The touch subsided, the initial intensity relaxing, becoming a flow of pleasure. The tongue swirled and toyed, exploring and toying, playful yet definite, one that had learned, long ago, the way to please. Sara was powerless before its touch, straining to press herself into it, unable to do so because of the ever-present chains. She moaned in frustration and want, dreaming that she might leap upon this tongue and have it claim her completely. Never before had a woman been able to arouse her in such as way, but even now her thoughts of men were fading. Maybe if their tongue...

She felt swift fingertips slicing lower, the nerves of her stomach lighting up as they passed over. She knew what would come next, and parted her legs wider, her lust overcoming all reason, needing nothing but for this pleasure to endure forever. But the touch did not come. The fingers brushed past her most intimate area, the faint beads upon it not holding the power they did over others. Instead the fingers hinted, gliding down her thigh, frustratingly slowly, making every inch of skin aware. It was pure torture, knowing that a single move could finish her, could send her over the edge into glory and wonder. But no such move came. She felt the fire settling within her, the bright flames becoming intense embers, ones that could still ignite a raging inferno if they were but fed a single match.

The lips left her breast, the night gliding in to touch her with cool hands. She could feel that the person was still close, but where... that she could not say. Above, below, beside... impossible to say. Light touches would find her, on her neck, on her hip, on her wrist. She felt disorientated, wanting to know what was happening. Was it over? She wanted so badly to remove the blindfold, so that she could at least regain control of her own damn sight. To have even that faculty robbed from her; it was almost too much to bear.

The hot breath abruptly silenced every thought. It rolled between her legs, a cloud of breath that only a person could have exhaled. And only one so close could have given that sensation. Sara wanted to move closer, but still she was held, and so she lay there, not knowing if she would be blessed with release or not. A few more delicate beads formed, dripping to the slab, telling of her inner hunger, her ravenous desire to be devoured.

She sensed rather than heard it. The silent noise of a single droplet being caught on an outstretched tongue. And that single, tiny non-sound was the most deeply erotic thing that she had ever known. Alone, that delicate bead had been chosen to be the courier of every need she had ever felt. And it had been lapped up by a being that knew infinite pleasure, one who could bless her with the pain of a thousand heavens, or the pleasure of a thousand hells. Infinite lust and suffering, all in that one absence of noise. And so when the pinprick tip of a tongue touched the centre of her being, Sara simply screamed.

It was the release of a lifetime of pent up hopes, desires, needs, ambitions, disappointments, everything either fulfilled or denied. The rush of her first kiss combined with the low of her first failure, every crashing emotion released in a moment. She couldn't even move as the moment extended into eternity, blessing her wit its presence. Then, gradually, as she returned to herself, she could feel it again, pressing into her, letting her know how good life could feel. She pressed into it a little, and her bonds seemed almost to give a little, to allow her this time to bathe herself in life's hope and delight. She moved her hips, rubbing herself against the beautiful tongue, one that gave without asking. She heard a small sigh of pleasure, and knew that it was a goddess sighing, one that had found a new disciple.

She moved more freely, her chins still reminding her who was the mistress, but allowing her to move with her will. The tongue too moved, flickering up and down, teasing and playing, slipping and lapping, finding every last drop of her new being. And, as the dawn sun crested the horizon, the new light bursting into the world, she came, her cry echoing across the land, raised to the heavens in exultation of her new goddess.

When she awoke the day was already warm. Her wrist bore the soreness that only such a night could bring, and her stomach grumbled in search of her second hunger. Of her deity there was no sign, but then she had not expected there to be. Such beings didn't reveal themselves during the day, but only blessed their flock in the warm velvet of the night. Lying back, smiling, Sara waited to be released, waited to go forth to bless the world.