**** TRIGGER WARNING ****
Some non-consent, violence and gore, lots of abusive sex
****
Rozale sat naked in her throne, a rope swing which dangled about five feet off the stone floor in the chapel of love.
Her feet rested on the backs of two wemic statues, her legs spread so that the orgy of followers and temple attendants in the center stage could look up at her wet cunt.
They sprawled across the hall, sighing to the rhythmic slap of flesh, spreading themselves across the brightly colored Vindian sponge mats that covered some of the surfaces in the chapel.
Others hung suspended from ropes that were fastened to hooks on the vaulted ceiling, swaying as their partners drove into them.
Rozale's skin bristled and her clitoris throbbed as she watched them make love. Being the high priestess of Calun Bayul, Rozale was both the font and the reservoir of her god's lust, and that lust drooled along the cleft of her sex and down her butt crack for the duration of their monthly orgy.
From the opposite end of the long room, a huge set of double doors hung open to admit initiates. Young men stripped naked in the preceding rooms and then made their way into the chapel to experience the divine gift of pleasure.
The women who served the temple delivered this pleasure in exchange for what they desired.
Some of these disciples of ecstasy partook of the drugs that heightened senses and some abstained, preferring the natural path to enlightened love.
Rozale watched priestesses please multiple men with their mouths or lay spread-legged while the newcomers took turns fucking them, making them squeal rapturously.
"I request the water of life," one of the priestesses said, approaching Rozale's swing and smiling sweetly. She had deep brown hair and large breasts and her dark bush formed a diamond between her thighs.
"Drink deeply, daughter of delight," Rozale chanted, curling her toes against the forward-arching serpentine effigies that supported her feet. The girl bowed her head and dragged her tongue along the furrow of Rozale's sex. Rozale trembled and felt her clit swell as the girl licked between her labia and then pressed her lips to her opening to suck the slick nectar from her pussy.
Rozale's nipples stood erect and she blushed faintly as the girl pulled away. The priestess turned and moved toward one of the nude men who had just arrived. She kissed him passionately, feeding him Rozale's dew and grasping his cock as it grew firm.
Just then one of the pairs on the left side of the orgy broke away and Rozale focused on them. The girl, a thin, light haired woman, sat on one of the sponge mats with her legs apart, gasping, her pussy gaping from her partner's member, her body shaking, drenched with sweat.
The man walked up the stairs to the short platform on Rozale's left side.
She turned toward him as he approached and opened her mouth, closing her lips around his cock and tasting the girl's aroused cunt on his shaft as it slid across her tongue.
She peeked at the girl from the corner of her eye as she tasted her, sharing in their experience through the flavor of her sex. Then she peered up at the man while he thrust his firm penis into her mouth, the bell of his erection throbbing, his salty seed spraying the inside of her cheek as he drew it back through her pursed lips.
Rozale felt her pussy clench as she drank his cum, humping the air, her womanhood pulsing and her juices flowing along her groove.
From the corner of her eye she saw another couple pull apart, saw someone ascend the platform to her right as she sucked this man's orgasm over the firm head of his penis and closed her lips against its tip. She felt his cum continue to pulse across her mouth and drip down the side of her face while she swallowed most of his load.
She turned to accept the next initiate's seed, letting his length glide through her cum-covered lips, tasting her priestess's cunt on its surface. The man shook as he ejaculated, splashing Rozale's tongue with seed that was fairly sweet compared to most of her followers.
The ritual of giving wasn't supposed to take place this month. It was tied to the high priestess's cycle, happening right at the time when her blood ceased its flow and she wasn't yet fertile.
She thought about how upset Zile had acted when their prince revealed that Rozale was not with child.
"My father put a bounty out on the cunt who brought us the figurine," her new husband had told her.
Rozale noticed a woman lining up to taste her nectar as she sucked the sweet tasting cum from her initiate's cock.
"Mmm," she sighed, feeling him squirt against her palate as she drew her lips up around the wide bell of his erection. She pulled her mouth off of him and rolled his seed around, licking her teeth and swallowing slowly as she looked up at him.
"Our lord favors you," Rozale said to the grinning initiate as he stepped back and made his way down from the platform on wobbling legs.
"I request the water of life, priestess," the thin girl between her legs said, her face still scarlet and her body trembling slightly from her orgasm.
"Drink deeply ..." Rozale commanded, licking her mouth as the blushing girl bowed and kissed her slick pussy lips. She wondered about the woman who had brought the false idol, feeling a twinge of regret while she watched the next girl approach and beg for her water.
Rozale didn't know if any idol was the real one. The legend, just like the spells they painted her with for her wedding, could all be false, just myths, preserved by the old texts. Few of those beneath her rank understood how little of what was written was actually practical knowledge.
She watched the girl back away to be replaced by another priestess and as she did she thought how funny it was that Zile's attempt on that woman had failed so utterly.
"Drink ..." Rozale repeated, curling her toes as this woman tongued the opening of her cunt, reaching deep into her, her nose rubbing along Rozale's slick seam as she scooped and sucked. Rozale felt her clitoris stiffen while this raven haired disciple breathed into her bush and licked the roof of her vagina.
Rozale gasped, bucking her hips lightly against her face, then relaxing her pussy muscles to accept her probing tongue. She felt the girl smile into the press of her groin and then pull away, her tongue extended, a clear strand of her moisture dangling from its tip as she pulled it into her mouth.
"I want to have more of that one," she thought, watching her go, her round butt glistening with sweat under the glow of torches as she pressed her lips to a new initiate's mouth.
"I request the water of life," a familiar voice said, calling her attention. It was the spell painter who'd dressed her for marriage, she realized. She was quite pretty out of her robe.
Two perky pink nipples stood atop gentle mounds of pale flesh on her chest, and she could barely make out the shape of her labia beneath a layer of blonde pubic fuzz.
