The Crystal Phallus

I.

In the city of Amurkhan, wicked tales of the feverish lusts and outrageous sexual liaisons of the princess Elyse had long circulated amongst the gossips and busybodies of the royal courts. The princess was a young and sultry, long limbed beauty who had only just come past her nineteenth birthday. Golden haired, nimble limbed, endowed with luscious full round breasts and the ample hips and ass of a goddess, her lusts were legendary. The stories of her teenage trysts sparked the tongue of every wandering minstrel in the kingdom, and any royal courtier who had not known her favors at some time or another was seen as inadequate to his calling. And so it came to pass when rumors began to hint of her mysterious absence from the bawdy orgies long attended by the upper echelon of privileged society on each full moon, even the royal courtiers began to take notice amongst themselves, especially after it was revealed that none of them had shared the princess' bed for nearly a fortnight.

"Perhaps she has taken some other-worldly lover from the faery-lands," some suggested. But the wizened court wizards denied this possibility.

"No gates have been opened to the Otherworld," they testified. "No faery-lord dwells now amongst us."

Elyse cared not what rumors were spread about her. She was the princess, after all. She felt herself above the judgment of all those she ruled. It was her privilege to be the subject of gossips.

In the sultry heat of the midsummer night, she chose to remain alone in her silk-lined chamber, gazing into the polished silver mirror that stood at the end of her bed stand. Like all of her furniture, it was of exquisite craftsmanship and design. Framed in rich, dark grained ebony and intricately carved with cherubs and devils cavorting along its rim, the mirror itself was polished from a single piece of polished silver which had been no meager task to cast and mold. Elyse gazed at herself in that mirror, and she was not pleased.

Her fierce jade green eyes stared back at her. Her long hair was flaming gold, at present was a wild mass of curls that refused to stay near her head. Certainly, there were few who would not still call her beautiful, she thought, but perhaps that was only because she was the princess. She ran her hands down her long silken legs, letting them continue to wander across the softness of her lower belly. She pulled her blue silken robe more tightly about her breasts and laid back down on her bed, curling and stretching restlessly to find some position in which she might at last fall prey to Morpheus, the elusive god of sleep. But Morpheus refused to grant her desire for oblivion. She was transfixed in a state of tedium.

Idly and without thought, her slim hand wandered across the soft expanse of her loins.....and then still further to the silken fleece of her mons. Her fingers toyed for a moment in the golden curls of her womanhood. The heat of her sex dared her to venture further, urged her to plunge into the sweetness of pleasure, to surrender to the tremulous quivering of her own desire. But she refused to succumb. She knew it would give her no satisfaction, no true joy or release.

For a moment she entertained the notion of summoning one or more of her courtiers to her chambers in order to pleasure her, but she rejected the idea before it was formed. Such pallid waters could never begin to soothe the savage fires that now blazed within her. She bit down on her full lower lip rather hard in an attempt to stifle the tears that had come far too often to her eyes of late.

'What's wrong with me?' she asked herself silently. Her life had become a routine without variation or relief. Sex had always been her only real interest in this game, yet it gave her no satisfaction now, and in fact left her with a deep yearning for something as yet unnamed. She felt empty inside, weary from her fruitless attempts to satiate a hunger for which there seemed no fulfillment. She needed a change to be sure. There was no doubt about that. But what? She'd had tried men, women, animals, bondage, and nearly every variation of the outre' and bizarre, exploring even the more vicious and degrading aspects of sex in her search for release. She had participated in acts few would ever dare to imagine. These kinds of adventures had always kept her happy and amused before, at least temporarily, but now her emptiness, her need, only seemed to grow stronger, until it had become an unquenchable fire consuming her from within.

Abandoning any pretense of sleep, she rose and slipped into the silken robe that hung at the foot of her bed. She made her way out to the terrace, thinking the fresh air would help her. The stars shone with almost supernatural brilliance amidst a sky as black as a sea of oil. A gentle breeze danced through the tresses of Elyse's golden hair, carrying with it the scent of night jasmine. The tremulous laughter of young lovers cavorting on the cobble-stoned streets drifted up from below. Everything seemed to mock her for her own unreasonable unhappiness.

The soft breath of the evening stirred something again within her. Her hand crept once more to her aching loins. She cupped the soft ripeness of her mound, massaging the slippery inner lips of her desire. Her sex was afire. She rubbed at herself more fervently, spreading her silken juices until her entire sex was soaking wet. Her need momentarily consumed her. Two long fingers plunged deep inside of herself as her hips lurched upward in the fervency of her lust.

Collapsing onto the veranda, she cried until her tears would come no more. There came then a soft rap upon her chamber door. She rose and wiped her cheeks dry with the sleeve of her gown. She puled the violet hued gown tightly around her breasts with the sash and glanced at herself in her polished silver mirror. A tall amazonian girl stared back at her, her blonde hair wild and unbefitting her royal status, her green eyes staring back widely like a startled animal. She didn't care.

"Enter," she commanded.

One of the court pages, a timid lad just past puberty, poked his head thru the door. His eyes refused to leave the valley of her cleavage.

"The lady Hexylarra requests an audience," he announced.

"Good," Elyse replied. "Perhaps the old witch knows of some amusement or diversion that will please me on this most tedious of nights. Send her in."

The court page withdrew. Elyse heard the familiar wheezing laugh of Hexylarra. A moment later, the ancient sorceress herself entered the chamber. Her cracked and weathered lips opened in a grotesque smile that revealed the few teeth left in her mouth. Her flesh was parched and lifeless; it resembled one of the long-dead mummies that were buried in the tombs to the north of the Great River. Her dress sparkled with every movement. Legends said it had been woven from the finest silk of the Spider-Gods, and Elyse knew it was very expensive. On a younger, less emaciated woman, it would have looked absolutely stunning. But on the withered old crone, it was positively obscene.

"Well," Elyse prompted. "What prizes would you show me today?"

The lady Hexylarra was what some might call a witch or a wise woman, for her knowledge of spirits and otherworldly realms was very great. But the manner in which she chose to utilize her talents was an odd one, for Hexylarra was a pleasure merchant. She made her trade selling sexual devices of the most unusual varieties to the jaded princes and princesses of the royal court. In one withered hand she held her black case, her constant and infamous companion. Inside, she carried an assortment of magical items which she often bragged would satisfy any woman or man, no matter how bored or blase' they had become.

"I've just returned from a long journey," she said. "A dangerous and wearisome quest to be sure, but I've collected a grand assortment of new and unusual toys in my collection! One of them is sure to please you."

"Spare me the sales pitch," Elyse muttered impatiently. "Show me the goods."

Hexylarra made an overlong, elaborate business of unlocking and opening precious case. Elyse suspected this was to done to accentuate the drama of her presentation. She realized at once that Hexylarra's appearance at her door was no accident. Her temporary abstinence had apparently not gone unnoticed by the good citizens of Amurkhan. She did appreciate the diversion, even if it did prove to be only momentary (as she was sure it would). Still, perhaps her boredom could be suppressed for the nonce. That was all that mattered.

Hexylarra unrolled a dark hued cloth upon which she began to place various objects and parcels.

"Ever see one of these?" she asked, holding up a small glass cube to the candlelight. It seemed to be filled with nothing but ordinary water.

"What is it?" Elyse asked, fingering the cube. It was warm to the touch.

"Here, let me show you," Hexylarra offered. To Elyse's amazement, the cube transformed into a sphere, then a pyramid, followed by a dozen other shapes, all in the space of moments.

"It's called a Swift Shifter. It comes from the black swamps that lie many leagues to the South. Its so hot there that the inhabitants only come outside at night and early morning. They spend the rest of their time in dank caves practicing secret sex games. This is one of their discoveries."

"What does it do?" Elyse asked as Hexylarra placed the strange object into her hands. It had a gelatinous, sticky texture and was warm to the touch. It flowed and curled about her slender fingers like some loathsome jellyfish.

"It has been enchanted to conform to the shape of the fantasies and desires of whoever holds it. It will soon conform itself to your every secret wish. Watch!"

The thing continued to undulate in her grasp, but now it began to take on a definite and familiar shape, transforming itself into a phallic shaped object about six inches long. But as it pulsed and shifted in her hand, she realized it was growing larger, inch by inch, until it had reached what even Elyse would describe as ridiculous proportions. It throbbed now with the hum of a mighty engine.

"How could any woman fit it in?" Elyse gasped.

Hexylarra laughed hoarsely. "I've never seen it grow quite so large before. You must be really horny. But don't worry. It adapts to exactly the right size soon as you try to put it into you. Every nook and cranny of your sex will be filled, caressed and teased by its ever changing surface."

"I don't think I like it," Elyse complained. "It has the feel of a frog's hard-on."

"No matter," replied the sorceress. "I've many more items in my bag today. Certain I am that something will interest you." She took the slimy thing back from Elyse, whereupon it was transformed once more into a simple transparent cube.

"Now here's a tricky little number." She held forth a long glass cylinder, rounded on one end, in which was contained a vague shadow, like smoke shifting in its center. Elyse bent down nearer to it to get a closer look, but then leapt back with a startled gasp as she spied two tiny crimson eyes glaring back at her from within the misty confines of the tube.

"What is it?" she was again compelled to ask.

"A tiny flame-imp has been captured for all time within by the little wizard Sketzael, who lives on the edge of a mountain of fire. When you insert the cylinder into your sex, the demon uses his tongue of elemental fire on your cervix from within. It is quite a unique experience, or at least so I've been told."

Elyse chuckled silently. She knew full well that the old hag had almost certainly tested nearly every item she had for sale on her self at one time or another.

"It sounds interesting," Elyse yawned. "For someone else, that is, but I'm afraid it just doesn't appeal to me."

"My, we are hard to please tonight, aren't we? But no matter. I have nothing if not variety. What do you think of this?"

She held out what appeared to be the penis of a man, but a man of absolutely incredible proportions. Some great craftsman had spent much time on its design. Every detail, every blood-engorged vein, every line and fold of flesh was so life-like it could not be discerned from reality and would have been easily taken as such if not for its inhuman size. It was dark in color, an odd bronze hue like the flesh of no man Elyse had ever seen before.

She took it from Hexylarra's withered hands, but nearly dropped it when she felt it writhing in her grasp.

"Its alive!" she cried.

"Of course. What did you expect it to be? You must remember that I am a sorceress. Nothing that I offer is what it seems. This particular item I had a hand in acquiring myself. I got an ogre drunk after seducing him, and I cut his cock from his body with a purified glass blade. The casting of the spells that keep him bound and his member still alive cost me dear. But I offer it to you today at a bargain price, for I've seen how great is your need."

The thing began to pulse in Elyse's grasp, as if it were still attached to its masculine owner. It increased in length and girth until it was fully erect, and as Elyse had guessed, it was of absolutely monstrous proportions.

"Really, Hexallara. You outdo yourself, as usual. But again, though it might appeal to those of less refined tastes, I seek less brutal pleasures. Have you nothing else?"

"There is one item which I have recently acquired," Hexylarra admitted. "Though I wonder if I dare show it to you since I've already promised it to another."

"Who else would offer you the price I would pay? Show it to me!" she demanded.

Hexylarra laughed. "There's no harm in letting you see it, I suppose." She then laid upon the table a package wrapped in fine yellow silk, and slowly, she unraveled it, revealing that which was hidden within.

A single quartz crystal, exquisitely carved by some ancient magical art into the shape of a man's erect penis gleamed before her in the flickering candle light. It was a thing of beauty incarnate. Every minute and delicate detail of a man's sex had been lovingly rendered in the flawless crystal by some unknown master craftsman. Every subtle line, every pulsing vein had been captured as if reality had been frozen in time. It sparkled from within as if it were composed of the essence of purest magic.

Elyse picked it up, caressing and fondling it. With a well practiced eye, she guessed it to be about nine inches, though relatively slender for it's length. It felt strangely cool to the touch and its surface was ingrained with some invisible luster that she could only sense with the delicate whorls of her fingertips.

"What is it?" Elyse asked. "From what land does it come?"

"I bought it from a renegade priest of Kyr," Hexylarra replied. "He, in turn admitted to me that he had stolen it from the ancient temple of a forgotten god in the south lands. He and his brotherhood had come upon a half devastated city in the course of their wanderings amidst the vast Kalzarian desert. The inhabitants, he said, were mad. They possessed great treasures but they knew little of their value and naught of the world outside. But there was one thing they valued above all else, and that was this crystal phallus. They claim it's all that's left of their god, who their ancestors had known many generations past. According to them, the god departed, leaving only that part of him that gives the gift of life. They used it to deflower young virgins, who then became the priestesses of their god."

"The priest was vague about the details of its theft, but he did say he had traveled long since then. I think there is no doubt he was pursued by some terrible fear. I believe he may have lived in mortal terror of the god's vengeance. Yet he drove a hard bargain for its purchase just the same. Had it not been so unique an item, I wouldn't have bought it at all."

Elyse felt her heart beat faster within her breast. She desired the thing, she knew, like nothing she had ever desired before. But she was forced to hide her eagerness from Hexylarra. She knew the old witch would drive a hard bargain for the piece, and it would prove even harder if she knew how much she wanted it!

Assuming a disinterested tone, she said. "This intrigues me. It is beautiful, at least. How much will you take for it?"

Hexylarra frowned, increasing the overall effect of her ugliness.

"It won't be cheap, for I spoke the truth before. It really was meant for someone else."

"Ha! You wouldn't know the truth if it bit your wrinkled privates! Who would pay you more than I?"

"There is a certain elegant lady willing to pay fifty thousand zeals for this piece! And it is rare! There is only one like it in the whole world!"

"Fifty thousand zeals! Who can afford so much?"

"That's my business," replied Hexylarra "Do you wish to make a counter offer or not? Come! I have many customers to attend to this night, with ladies perhaps as jaded as yourself."

"This is outrageous! I offer you sixty thousand crowns, and not a penny more!"

"Not good enough, I'm afraid."

"Listen, Hexylarra! Sell me the phallus or I'll tell the queen a story about a certain wise woman that once sold love potions on a certain street corner seventeen years ago. I'm sure she'd be eager to hear such information!"

"Tell and be damned! For it is your mother, the queen herself that has requested this item! She has been buying my treasures for many years, in fact, since before the day you were born! I wasn't going to tell you, but you forced me. Still, you always have been one of my best customers, so I'll sell it to you for one hundred thousand crowns."

"You are mad! I'll give you $75,000, and no more!"

"It could mean my head to chance the queen's anger," answered Hexylarra. "

"Eighty-five thousand! And not a brass less!"

"Done!" cried Elyse. "And it had better be worth it!" she remarked as she counted out several bags of silver coins.

Hexylarra cackled with glee. "I wonder if it might prove more marvelous than either of us could have dreamed."

The witch's grating laughter receded into the night. Elyse barred the door securely behind her. She was alone with her new treasure at last.

She had an odd sense of being on the verge of some great erotic intrigue, of embarking on a daring rendezvous with romantic destiny. It all seemed bizarrely familiar, as if she had lived all these moments before, but had forgotten them long ago. Then she remembered. She had felt something very similar when she had first lost her virginity at the age of thirteen to an older boy she'd agreed to meet late one night in the palace gardens. The sense of danger, the promise of illicit erotic abandon was much the same as it had been that wondrous eve so long ago.

She began to set the stage for her own seduction. She extinguished most of the candles in the chamber, leaving only those that would illuminate the great circular bed in the center of the room. She dressed herself in one of her favorite robes, a sheer piece of flimsy silk cleverly designed to accentuate the supple curves and sleek lines of her young, nubile form. It left much bared but was more distinctively enticing for what it covered rather than for what it revealed.

She lay down upon her bed. The cool breeze of the Midsummer's Eve wafted gently through her open window, caressing her naked flesh. Stars burned dimly through the lace curtains. A silver sliver of the crescent moon shimmered just above the edge of the horizon. Elyse felt herself slipping into a slow mood of lazy sensuality. One slender palm caressed her belly, sliding across her silken flesh to encounter the supple weight of her left breast. She let it's soft contours fill her hand, teasing the nipple until it grew hard and pointed with the fervency of her desire.

Once more, she unwrapped the pure white silk that covered the crystal phallus. Once more, she was unexpectedly startled by its unearthly beauty. Its utter perfection was almost surreal. A soft, warm luster shone from within its depths, as if it were inhabited by some vagrant will o' the wisp.