The Priestess of the Spire

The road was bumpy, the carriage wheels jolted and hopped over stones and ruts as it made its way through the darkening wood. The professor and his mistress sat comfortably in the plush interior, warm with the glow of a tiny stove as snowflakes drifted past outside. The finely wrought springs in the undercarriage turned the hard jolts of the road into a gliding and swooping movement that Ilsa found exciting. In the warmth of the cabin she had shrugged off her cloak of white fur. Her short dress of fine metallic cloth draped loosely around her long neck and barely covered her breasts. The hem rode high up her thighs as she sat next to the professor on the leather bench, clinging to his arm as the cabin pitched. The dark-haired man was distinguished in his robes, he looked at her over his spectacles and put his hand on her bare thigh. "We shall be there soon." Ilsa took a deep breath. She knew that if she let herself really feel the motion, she would succumb to one her fits and now was not the time. She shut her eyes tight and thought of the cold, cold snow outside.

The carriage emerged from the dark wood into a vast circular clearing covered in snow at the center of a bowl shaped valley surrounded by forested slopes and sharp glacial peaks. From the flat of the clearing rose a compound of black stone walls and slate-roofed towers. Warm light from tall windows and outdoor lanterns suffused the mist and falling snow with an orange glow.

Ashcroft College of Arts and Sciences had stood in the the valley known as the Cauldron for ages. The site was atop a natural hot spring which had probably enabled a settlement in ancient times to withstand the cruel winters of the region. Over centuries the original structures were blended into great stoneworks by mad engineers, adding level upon level with no master plan. Great pipes rose among the arches and buttresses, harnessing steam to power machinery and provide heat to the complex of looming buildings.

The dormitories of the College were filled with young adults from rich noble families. For many it was a place to be idle and out of the way for a while so they could indulge in youthful indiscretion without embarrassing their names. For others, there was real practical knowledge to be gained in everything from philosophy to agriculture to engineering and the arts. For a select few that possessed the requisite gifts and connections, secret studies in the arcane brought knowledge of an entirely different type.

The road in the open meadow was well maintained and kept free of snow by steam piped below the surface. The carriage whisked through the outer gate with a cursory glance from the guards and wound through the steaming streets towards a hill that rose near the outer ring of the complex. There stood an enormous mansion with tall windows and steep roofed dormers adorned with motifs in black iron. At the arrival of the carriage in the circle drive, a party of servants emerged from the grand entrance to assist the new arrivals.

Ilsa's slender form, bundled in white fur, descended from the carriage and stood precariously on the cobblestones in tall stiletto heels. The Professor stepped down behind her. As they walked up the steps to the entrance, he looked around with a sense of satisfaction. He had been away for over a year, but he was pleased in knowing that the results of his research abroad would be of utmost interest to the man he had come to visit.

Dean Oron Vuso met them at the massive wood and iron door. Warm light shone behind him as he extended his arms, beaming at the professor. "The eminent Professor Rhoas Powers! My old friend. It has been far too long." He gave the professor a hearty embrace and received one in return. "Wow, Roas! You've put on some bulk since last we met. Knowing you, it's muscle rather than fat." He punched the professor in the shoulder playfully, but not gently. Professor Powers laughed. "Healthy living, my friend. Once I left this morose mausoleum of Academia some things improved, what can I say?"

The Dean answered with a sarcastic smile. "Ah, so you mean when you left us your brain atrophied and you substituted mental exercise for physical?"

"Something like that." They both chuckled and the Dean turned to look at Ilsa. Her fur cloak had slipped off her shoulders and she stood looking around with awe at the luxurious entry hall, her sparse metallic dress glittering and her smooth skin glowing in the light of the chandeliers. She returned a sweet and bashful smile when she realized the dean was looking her over. She offered her hand, and he held it for a moment, looking deep into her eyes, before he leaned over to kiss it. "You are most welcome to Ashcroft, my dear. I am at your service."

The professor chuckled. "Beware of him my dear. Silver-tongued devils and all that." The dean shot him a wink as he stood upright. "You speak truthfully, old friend. Come, let us refresh ourselves in my study. The servants will take your belongings to your chambers." A maid in a corset dress and black stockings helped Ilsa shrug out of her cloak and took the professor's overcoat before departing down the hall after the porters with the luggage cart.

There was a fire roaring in the hearth of the large study casting flickering shadows on the dark wood-paneled walls. The hem of Ilsa's short dress rose as she sat on the luxurious couch and the thick plush velvet caressed the back of her bare thighs. The sensation caught her off guard. She resisted the feeling coming over her, and tried to focus on her posture, it was important to remain in control. She sat up straight, knees together, chest out. With this movement she became acutely aware of her nipples sliding beneath the thin strips of metallic fabric draped over her breasts. Additionally, the rear hem of the dress had risen up the curve of her ass and now the soft velvet touched the skin of her bare vulva. She felt the room shift, the sensation was overwhelming.

She quickly became aware of a tight grip on her upper arm and the professor whispering something angry in her ear. She snapped out of it, blushing bright red. At a table by a tall frosted window of leaded glass, the dean had picked up a crystal decanter of amber liquor and some glasses and was coming to sit with them. "Although it is long past dinner, you must be famished. I have ordered a few items from the kitchen to be brought up..."

He noticed Ilsa's flushed demeanor with a concerned smile. "Are you okay, my dear?"

"Ilsa's just exhausted from our long trip," the professor interjected.

"Ah, perhaps she would like retire to the chambers we have prepared for you?" He looked at Ilsa with pity. "You could rest and be spared the boredom of listening to us catch up. I can send up some food when it arrives, if you wish."

"I would be most grateful," Ilsa responded, relieved to be provided an escape from the sensory overload. Her nerves in these unfamiliar surroundings made her feel precarious.

The dean rang a bell and another maid in stockings entered the room. They all rose and Ilsa offered bashful apologies. The professor kissed her on the cheek before she was escorted up a flight of carpeted stairs.

The dean looked after her for a moment before turning to the professor. "You have done quite well, Rhoas. She is exquisite."

"Yes, I consider myself fortunate. I imagine that it was not long before the Sisters found her."

"Is that so?"

"I think it likely. Her condition had developed over the last couple of years to where she was having trouble keeping it a secret. As she described it to me, she would try to sneak off and hide to let the mood take it's course. If no escape existed, she would try to play it off as a seizure. Her odd behavior became the subject of much gossip. Despite her beauty, her parents couldn't find a suitable marriage for their adult daughter. Eventually they found a suitor, but he was known as a mean drunk and he publicly proclaimed that he would beat her into shape."

"That sounds like a most unpleasant existence. How did you find her, if I may ask? Did your study of the witchfinder lore proved useful?"

"Yes, I practiced scrying with the technique described in the Red Grimoire of Arakhan and was able to identify the region around the village of Ferth as a prospect. I made a point of announcing my arrival there to the local chieftain, claiming to be a traveling scholar studying the treatment of psychological maladies in agrarian communities, blah blah blah. I rented an apartment above a tavern and spent the next fortnight being visited by the local farmers who were eager to tell me their tales of woe. I think I probably actually helped a few of them work through some stuff. One day, her mother sought me out regarding her strange daughter and I told her to send Ilsa to visit me. At first I figured she was too afraid or ashamed to come see me, but the night her parents told her of her betrothal she ran away. She came to my quarters and collapsed in tears. That night I gave her the comfort she needed. She saw that I understood her condition and could provide treatment instead of shame. We left town that night just before dawn."

The dean was following the story with interest. "And from there where did you go? Why did you not bring her here?"

The professor scoffed. "You well know that would have been impossible in this beehive of distraction. I needed seclusion and a calm environment. Before traveling to Ferth, I first went to meet with Lord Andreas. He has long held me in high esteem since he was a student here and I was his mentor. He graciously offered me the exclusive use of an isolated cabin in his game preserve about a days journey from Ferth. There, he assured me, I would have as much privacy and isolation as I could want. He even offered a servant to make regular trips to ensure I had needed supplies.

"After Ilsa and I left town, I hired the driver of a passing straw cart to drive me and my disguised companion to the vicinity. Over the course of the summer we stayed in comfortable isolation and I learned quite a bit."

The dean complimented Powers. "I admire your planning and commitment to this undertaking. I am also excited for a report of your findings." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "But I am eager to know above all else... have you had success in harnessing the energy?"

Rhoas smiled and reached into a pocket of his vest, producing a pendant necklace of fine gold that held a large gem which glowed bright purple. He handed it to Vuso who inspected it with satisfaction.

"Excellent work my friend. Though this za crystal is small, it appears fully charged. With a handful or so of these you might be on the threshold of real power."

"No doubt. I have a few more of these in my luggage as well. I have been using small vessels in my experiments in order to accurately quantify the energy captured. I have learned that her average climax can charge a crystal this size about a quarter of the way. But I believe that I may have discovered something not mentioned in any of the old scrolls." He paused to emphasize his next point. "I have discovered that insemination alone can produce energy nearly twice that."

The dean raised his eyebrow. "That is quite an interesting claim. We have long assumed that za is life-force energy released only during female sexual climax."

"Exactly so. Our assumptions from the old lore were missing a critical aspect and I imagine it was a closely held secret. My discovery stems from my curiosity surrounding the so-called 'lords' that the Sisterhood periodically anoints. Do you recall our discussion of this at our last meeting?"

"I do." responded the dean. "If I remember correctly you were obsessed with the question of 'why.' Why would the Sisters zealously abstain from all interaction with men on principle yet occasionally select one to become a figure of near worship?"

"Right. With their ritualistic sex and alchemy alone they can harness enough za to regenerate their greenhouses, animate their metal warriors and install impenetrable wards around their citadels. Why develop a society which excludes men as a core ideal and then at times reverse that? "

"Yes, well that gets to their faith, perhaps. It would seem that they are not against all men. The 'lord' is always supposedly a very special individual with extreme sexual vitality. Perhaps they simply prefer to collectively reserve their devotion for a single extraordinary man. Or perhaps one man is simply easier to control."

"Possibly. But what benefit do they derive from that one man? Given what we know, the arrival of a 'lord' heralds a change. When the Sisters wish to wield their power for ambitious projects, the 'lords' presence amplifies the power of the Spire. But what is the mechanism of that amplification?"

A dawn of understanding illuminated the Dean's face as he followed the Professor's thought. "All this time we have assumed that these 'lords' were valued for their ability to pleasure the Sisters on a higher level, thus creating more za energy. You are suggesting that the semen may be the real factor?"

"I believe it is one of the factors, and one we should not ignore. I tried a number of things in my research which I thought might enhance the release of za energy. I learned to perform sexual techniques described in the rituals of the various sex cults. I studied anatomical pressure points on the interior and exterior of the female body and their manipulation to enhance orgasm. I used a vacuum bell device on my penis to enlarge it so as to stimulate these internal points most effectively. I also employed techniques to increase my output of seminal fluid. From my research, the quantity of za harnessed directly correlates to three factors: intensity of orgasm, duration of orgasm, and volume of semen internalized."

The dean smiled bemusedly as he considered the methods employed in his colleague's research but was keen on understanding the last point. "So you believe that increasing semen volume will result directly in significantly more za energy?"

"Yes. I have observed it. I first noticed a slight variation between when I came inside her and when I would withdraw and ejaculate onto her face, or her breasts, or belly, etc. It made me wonder about methods to increase semen production to see if that variation could be increased. I sent for a volume that I recalled discussing such practices and soon I had a routine of herbs, diet and physical and mental conditioning that has increased my semen output fifty-fold."

The dean coughed, startled by the revelation. "Pardon me, did you say fifty-fold?"

"I did."

"Gods, man. Your balls must be enormous!"

"They have grown, I will not lie. The difference I mostly notice is the pressure build-up from the rapid and constant semen production. It is actually somewhat pleasurable, and the sensation of cumming is sublime. Also, my refractory period is basically non-existent now. The only thing that limits the number of times I can ejaculate in a given day is simply sheer physical exhaustion."

The dean sat back and sipped his drink, considering Professor Power's claims with much deliberation. He pulled out a silver pocket watch and looked at the time. "Come with me, my friend. I have something I want you to see."

--

Ilsa considered her surroundings. The maid had shown her the wardrobe which held their luggage and then turned down the sheets on the huge canopy bed. She demonstrated the spigots which could fill the extravagant marble bathing basin with steaming hot water. Before leaving she showed Ilsa a velvet rope and said to pull it if she needed anything at all. Now Ilsa stood looking out of a tall window of small square panes frosted at the edges. Snowflakes swirled in the diffuse light just outside the window. Beyond, the field of snow stretched off into the darkness. The chamber felt especially cozy compared with the night outside.

"What a disaster," she thought. Working with the professor, Ilsa had learned not to fear the episodes. Suppressing them completely, however, was a different challenge. They had left the isolation of the sanctuary and were once more among people. There were standards of behavior to uphold. She could not believe she had failed so soon, and she had definitely not foreseen the sensual caress of the plush velvet couch. Granted, the dress was maybe a tad short but the shiny metallic fabric usually soothed her nerves. Perhaps she should have worn panties but not with that dress. She vowed to be on her guard and not let it happen again.

However, she was now alone in the chamber and there was no need to maintain decorum. She ran the steaming bath and added a pour of creamy liquid from a bottle next to the basin. She went through her luggage until she found the long leather sleeve lined with felt. Carefully, she tipped it and slid the object out into her hand. It was a phallus of smooth polished glass which tapered slightly into a thick, yet sleek, knob at the end. It was solid all the way through except for large purple gems which glowed inside the clear shaft.

With her toy, a glass of brandy and a chocolate from the tray beside the bed, Ilsa made her way to the billowing steam of the bath to sink into the mountain of luxurious bubbles. The soapy additive in the water made all contact with the tub slippery and stimulating and soon Ilsa felt the feeling building within. Yet she was calm. She was safe and could let it come without fear. She opened her mind to thoughts of happiness and bliss and recalled her experiences of the last summer.

The professor had brought her to a house on the edge of a sunny meadow. It was spring and all the colors were in bloom, the sound of the nearby river mixed with birdsong and a warm breeze rustled through the tree branches. The structure was small but quite luxurious, with stained glass and large windows everywhere. It was airy inside with a tall main room that opened onto a wide deck surrounded by meadow.

There she had learned that she was not mentally ill nor was she possessed by evil spirits. In fact, she was gifted with a great power that could be used for things like healing and experiencing the astral plane. But the Professor had also told her about the powerful Sisterhood, a secretive cult that sought out girls like her to control their power and imprison them away from men.

The professor assured her that she had nothing to fear because if she could understand and use her power, she would be stronger than any threat. In the peace of the cabin, he helped her explore her capabilities. When her fits came on he assisted her to remain calm rather than panicked and fearful. With his encouragement she no longer feared losing control because he was there to guide her. If she reached out for him, he was there. She went from shutting out stimulus to embracing it. She begged him to touch her and when his hands were not enough she begged for his cock.

He worked to understand her body, learning her response to every touch, every caress, every pinch and playful slap. With her consent they experimented with light choking and restraints. He even employed techniques to strengthen and lengthen his cock so that when it slid into her it was like a key unlocking floodgates of pleasure. The better it felt for her, the brighter the little gemstones shone. He explained that he was measuring the energy in her aura in order to understand which stimuli was most effective. She enjoyed the challenge of figuring out what would make the stones glow as brightly as possible.

These memories danced in Ilsa's mind as she slid the smooth slippery phallus across her clitoris. She felt herself lifting off, leaving time and space to drift in surges of warm pleasure.

She recalled how she had delighted in his cum and how he learned to give her more of it and make it delicious for her. As the days passed, she wanted his cock more and more and with the constant activity he grew more muscular and became more virile. She would gulp the delicious cum and it would spurt from her lips and dribble down her chin. When his throbbing member flooded her cervical canal she felt herself filling with up and overflowing with liquid warmth.