I woke in the usual place at the appropriate time.
I swept the temple at nine o'clock in the morning. The wind had scattered leaves in the courtyard. They needed to be cleared before Miranda returned. Thinking of a movie I'd once watched, I wished I could have made the brooms work for me. I wasn't able to remember the title of the film, nor who I saw it with. Even my name was a mystery to me.
At ten I filled the basins with hot water for the women. They bathed. Walking naked, they took no notice of me. I felt there was something else I should remember; the effect they once would have had on me. Something made me think of my broom, and I went to the courtyard. It had already been swept. Eleven o'clock came. I prepared the meals.
From noon until two, some of the students were meditating. I washed the floors on the far side of the building. Priestesses came and went on business. Three o'clock came, and I did their laundry.
I remembered Miranda questioning me, when I arrived, conferring with some of the others in a study, and then dismissing me. In my quarters were a cot, a pot, and a candle with matches. There was hay scattered on the floor.
When the bell chimed five times, the ladies filed past me in procession to the assembly. After the meeting, they dispersed. I performed the duties. As I slept, I saw a door opening onto a garden party, and about that I told no one.
Shadows danced on a wall. They may have been leaves in the wind. Possibly someone was walking near me.
"Your mind is restored."
I was looking down at a broom I'd been using, wearing a heavy robe and sandals. The person who'd spoken was Miranda. The room was hers, I realized. I blinked suddenly.
"How long have I been here?"
"Why ask? You won't know in a few hours." I sulked, and she smiled. "Three months."
"Won't someone miss me?"
"You've insured they won't."
"I have?"
"You wrote them, and told them not to worry." I couldn't recollect it.
"What do you... What can I do for you?" She was leaning against a bureau with her arms crossed, in black dress shirt and pants. On her feet were wood/hemp flip-flops.
"Remove your garment."
We undressed together. I stood behind her as she waited for me to secure the horizontal strap of her harness, which bore a gray, five-inch rod. My eyes studied her expensive haircut while the buckle jingled. When it was tight, she faced me, and I took a dollop of clear gel from the bottle on her nightstand to lubricate her. She watched my hands. How much she resembled a young man, I thought, observing the symmetry of our profiles.
In a flood of returning emotions were memories of my time there: the pretense which had lured me into her trap, that I might do something to protect Sarah; my seduction by Miranda, how she pushed my face to her crotch; the moment of first penetration by her phallus, the acquisition of control over me it afforded; the times she'd used me for pleasure, my occupations on the grounds. When I had sated her again, my consciousness would be numbed, and all that knowledge would disappear.
She turned me by my arms to see my back, and stepped to it like a pinball player. The latex rocked between my cheeks. Her small breasts brushed my skin, and I shivered. Jumping as the tip found its target, I blocked its movement with my hands, but the whisper came, "Relax," and I grabbed the edge of the table in front of me, leaning forward slightly. My hips were grasped as the rod was coaxed in, producing a groan. Her lesser height demanded an upward trajectory, realized as slow, sensual grinds. Moments later her right hand grasped my shoulder, and I was bent double across the wooden surface before me. In a caress of my trunk, she brought her hand to my waist, and my torso lurched with patiently delivered jolts from her hungrily surging hips.
Preparing to use force, she reestablished her grip on my clavicle. Up, with her tongue behind her bottom teeth, mouth open; up, letting gravity slowly lower her after each thrust; up, head bowed; up, ass jiggling in the leather V atop her long thighs; up, sighing hard after every sting. Insisting without anger, exerting without intention; she seized my pelvis and repeatedly whipped her hips to me, her elbows flying back as I was drawn onto the tool. Of every three seconds, two she spent recovering and preparing, the third was spent invading. Her back stiffened to let her loom higher, causing the dick to run too deep, and I stood vertical, too. Adapting instantly, she transferred her grip to my throat; sucking greedily at my jawline, stabbing yet more sharply on third beats. I desperately petted her head with my left hand. Shock waves that were intensified by our new proximity cast the arm dangling helplessly. As I was overwhelmed my head rolled back to brush hers. Delirious, I cried out and tore at a strap to emasculate her. "Man up," she spat. A thin left arm crossed mine, and the insides of its outstretched fingers caught the front of my thigh, better allowing her to gauge her target. The rhythm persisted.
Each contortion of her muscles matched a drop in my strength. She kept the fingers of her right hand stiff over my collarbone, thumb on my neck, leaving space in her palm for my reactions to her onslaught. Listening to her high grunts, I knew the terrible power of a boy's lustful focus. Her hot mouth was brought intimately to me on each wave generated by the strikes from below, but she stayed grounded enough to restore my posture with her guiding hand in the moments after impacts. Eventually I collapsed on the desk. Realizing I was exhausted, she exhaled sharply through her nose and pulled my wrist until I dropped to her feet.
Climax came when I sat on her dick, with her laying on the rug. Her hands crept behind my shoulders from below, and once they were clamped she pulled me down, down, down, in time with launches by her crunching abdomen of the missile into me, until I was stunned to helplessness from within. She laughed, and when it was obvious I would come, her stare burned into my eyes.
"Release the fertilizing essence," she ordered. I wailed and decorated her midsection, my cock slapping the mess until she stopped manipulating me. She brought her fingertips to my knees, and scooped them up. I fell back between her legs, which she instantly withdrew so she could stand.
