Thanks to BlueStarGrrrl for her editing assistance. A very short story, a request from an editor.
The slab was cold, the surface against my naked skin leaving my body chilled, my nipples hard, taut. I remembered little about what had happened, feeling lightheaded only to awaken, my eyes having a difficult time focusing, seeing the surroundings as if through a gauze curtain. The cathedral like building, the pentagram on the wall, the murmurs, almost chanting like sounds filling the enormous room.
I tried to move but it was as if my body would nor respond to my mind's command. Laid out like some kind of sacrificial lamb, my clothing gone, my body brazenly displayed as I saw the many figures who drew near, each of them wearing the same robe, their faces hidden behind their cowls. Only one stood out, the one who even now leaned over my, his garment red in color, almost that of blood.
As he pulled his covering back, I could not help it, my look recoiling in horror. The mask was grotesque, like one of those animals on a carousel I had seen once, all showing either tortured faces or a glimpse into madness. The only openings were for the wearer to breath and at his mouth which he placed over my own and with a whimper escaping my lips, his tongue demanded entrance and I was helpless to disobey.
It was as if he were drinking from my very soul, my body floating as I looked down to see the throng as they disrobed, all of them male, each and every one naked with the exception of their own unique masks. All of them aroused, my eyes frantically taking in the sight but unable to run, to move as I felt a sharp pain, the man who had tasted of my kiss, now desiring to taste of my lifeβs essence, the stiletto in his hand having cut my right breast, blood welling from the wound.