Through The Gate Of The Gods Ch 02

Thanks for the intelligent comments about Ch. 1! This is turning out to be a longer story than I originally expected. All characters are over the age of 18. As always, comments and feedback are cherished!

".........."

".........."

"Heather?"

".........."

"Heather?"

The awed whisper came from somewhere behind Orchid as she stood in the darkness, her body taut with tension.

"I'm here."

Orchid blinked and blinked, willing her eyes to adjust, but all she could see were tiny, faint glimmers of gold from her Sister's robes.

"Do we...keep going?" another voice whispered. It sounded like Midnight.

"Are we all still here?" Heather asked quietly from the front of the line.

"I think so," Heart answered from the other end.

Orchid released a ragged breath. She had been expecting something to happen quickly-a blast of light, a heartbeat of pain, and then...well she didn't know.

"Maybe we should..." someone began, when a distant boom made them all gasp and jump. Breath gripped Orchid's hand so hard it felt like she would crush the delicate bones.

"W-what was that?" someone whimpered, her voice quaking with fear.

Without warning, powerful hands grabbed Orchid, one planted firmly over her mouth, the other wrapped around her slim waist.

She heard squeaks of surprise all around her as she instinctively kicked her feet and bucked her body, shocked into struggling.

The big hands weren't hurting her, just pulling her firmly backwards, and after a moment Orchid calmed down.

"This is why I'm here," she thought, 'to be taken by the gods."

Her legs worked frantically as she tried to get her feet under her. She was being dragged effortlessly, her toes barely touching the stone floor, deeper into the darkness...

And then she was spun around, and the darkness was replaced by light...and white.

She flung her arm across her eyes, the light blazing so brightly it was like a physical blow.

That was all there was-white and light. The light didn't seem to have a source; it was everywhere, filling her universe.

At last, her eyes grew used to seeing again, and she was able to look around. Not that there was anything to see.

She seemed to be in a small, round chamber. The white was absolute.

She reached out with a shaky hand to touch. Somehow, it wasn't a wall-it was more like whiteness made solid.

She couldn't see any kind of doorway, any seam, any imperfection. In the bright silence, her breathing and pounding heart seemed impossibly loud.

"Hello?" she whispered, and the word was swallowed up by the white. The space she was in was small enough that it only took a single step to cross from one-barrier-to the other side.

She didn't feel claustrophobic, didn't feel scared, just confused. She didn't know what to do.

Time seemed to stand still as she stood, bathed in white light, her robes gleaming.

She had no idea how long she stood there, warm and waiting, as her breathing slowed to normal. She felt brave and calm, ready for whatever was going to happen next.

Orchid felt it approach, at some primal level far more basic than her senses. Like a soft breeze, it seemed to be everywhere around her, an awesome, amazing, gentle Presence.

"Child," a deep, soft voice crooned, and she couldn't tell if it was aloud, or in her head.

Even after all the years that had passed, she recognized the presence of the god Darella, and her heart soared with joy.

'He's come for me!' she thought, and with ecstatic tears in her eyes, slipped gracefully to her knees.

"I'm yours," she whispered, her mind and soul filled with the overwhelming sensation of the god-her god.

"Child," the voice purred again, and she quivered on her knees, her head swimming.

"Yes, you are mine," the god said, enveloping her entire being in it's love, "and I am very pleased with you."

Orchid could barely breathe. The god was everywhere-in her mind, her heart, her soul, and now her body. Every inch of her skin tingled with indescribable pleasure.

"Do you wish to serve me?" the voice asked.

"Yes, yes, oh please yes," the kneeling young lady moaned, awash with both the joy of the god's presence and love and the unfamiliar flames of arousal.

"You have much more work to do, child," the god told her. Her body trembled and shuddered. Her breasts felt swollen, the nipples hard as diamond chips. Her mouth fell open as she panted, her slim hips beginning to weave and buck.

"One day, I will truly claim you for my own," the voice continued as her pleasure built to incredible heights. "Until that glorious day, you will learn. You will obey. You will please those that serve the gods."

Orchid's eyes were glazed. A fire burned in her core, centered between her legs.

"Do you understand?" the god queried softly. "Will you obey? Will you please me?"

"Yessssssssss," she moaned, the simple reply becoming a scream of delight as the first climax of her young life roared through her body.

In that one syllable, she told the god everything. She was his.

Orchid's hips gave one final twitch, and her eyes rolled back in her head. The god held her gently, letting her fall slowly onto her side, her beautiful body still shuddering as she lost consciousness.

The god of Love looked at the lovely, peaceful face of his sleeping servant, and was well pleased.

XXXXXXXXXX

Orchid stretched, squirmed, then woke with a jerk, startled and disoriented. She kicked her blanket violently before she even fully realized she was in a bed.

"It's ok Sister, it's ok," she heard, and through bleary eyes saw Breath sitting on the edge of the narrow bed. Her friend put her hands on Orchid's shoulders, easing her back down to the pillow.

"What...what...where...?" Orchid babbled, the sudden burst of adrenaline making her muscles quiver.

"You're ok Sister," Breath said again. "We're all here."

Orchid rubbed her eyes and looked around. The room was just like the room she had encountered Darella, only larger and not as painfully bright. It was just big enough to squeeze in twelve cots. Two still held sleeping girls; the rest of her Sisters were awake.

Breath stroked her hair tenderly. "I saw...I met...I mean, Spira came to me," she whispered, a small, awe-struck smile on her face.

Orchid grabbed the other girl's hand and squeezed it affectionately. "Darella visited me," she replied just as softly. Remembering the events, she blushed lightly.

Breath leaned closer. "Was it...amazing?" she asked, and Orchid knew exactly what her friend was asking. She bit her lower lip and nodded slowly.

"Orchid!" a voice cried moments before Midnight dropped on her bed with a bounce and wrapped her arms around her neck, giving her a quick, fierce squeeze.

"Bout time you woke up, lazy butt," the dark haired girl giggled. "You musta got it even better than we did."

Orchid blushed darker, but the twinkle in Midnight's eyes had her smiling too.

"I never dreamed anything could be that...intense," Midnight continued, shaking her head in amazement.

"Me either."

"Or me," Breath added.

Orchid glanced around again. Ornament was just waking up, and Lily had her arms around the tiny girl, calming her much as Breath had calmed Orchid.

All of her Sisters had exchanged their gold robes for flowing white nightgowns. Looking down at herself, Orchid saw she was wearing an identical garment.

"Ok, I know we can't be dead, cuz dead people don't wake up needing to pee," Orchid said, making the other two girls laugh, "but does anyone know what's really going on?"

Heather spoke up from the next cot. "All I know for sure is, there's a lot more to being a Sacrifice then just walking through the Gate and going to Heaven."

Thistle looked over. "Well thank you Princess Obvious," she deadpanned, making them all giggle.

"All I meant was..." Heather began, smiling, when a gap appeared in the white. A figure stood in the opening, much taller than any of the girls, completely covered in a voluminous, hooded black robe.

Orchid heard Gem squeak with fear as the stranger lifted a sleeve.

"Come, girls," it said, and even the voice, soft but husky, gave no clue to it's identity or gender.

They followed the black clad figure into a narrow hallway, just as white and featureless as the room. After less than a minute, their mysterious guide stopped and looked to their right.

"Oh thank Sayennit!" Midnight groaned as the girls recognized what the twelve narrow orange half-doors meant. Hurriedly, they each entered to relieve themselves.

"That was a close call," Wisteria joked as they lined back up behind the person in black.

They walked for another minute or so, seeming to reach a dead end. Without a word, the robed figure placed a hand, hidden in it's full sleeve, against the wall.

It walked back, as if pulling open a door, and even though Orchid couldn't see anything in it's grip, a rectangular space appeared in the white.

The robed figure stood unmoving, obviously waiting, and after a pause Magenta stepped to the front of the group.

"May as well," she said as she entered.

The others followed her into another white chamber, this one significantly larger than the others they'd seen. There were three couchs, also pure white, arranged in a semi-circle, facing the door. Two plain, white chairs sat side-by-side, facing the couchs.

It was apparent the couchs were for the girls, and soon they were sitting four abreast, many of them squeezing the hands of the girls next to them.

They didn't have to wait long. An odd, scraping sound came from just outside the chamber, then two women entered.

One was tall, with short brown hair. About the age of their former Teachers, she wore a canary-yellow robe, and her left index finger sported a ring with an enormous red stone.

It was the other woman that drew every gaze.

She wasn't just elderly, she was ancient-by far the oldest person Orchid had ever seen. Her eyes seemed to have no pupils-they were a uniform milky white. She leaned on a cane as she shuffled in, and the younger woman held her left arm gently.

The old ladies hair was grey, the grey of a winter storm, her face deeply wrinkled, her tiny body stooped and bent with age. Still, Orchid and the other girls knew immediately and instinctively this was not just some old crone. Seeing her gave them all a sense of awe and wonder. It was impossible not to focus on her.

"The girls are here, old mother," the younger woman said kindly, and the ancient lady scowled.

"Yes, yes, yes Mist I know," she grumbled, her voice a sandpapery rasp. "I'm old, not stupid."

The woman in yellow smiled patiently. Orchid didn't think it was possible the old lady could see with those white eyes, but she walked, slowly but without hesitation, to stand next to the chairs.

"Well shit," she said, making the girl's eyes go wide with surprise, "let's see what we have to work with this year."

Her white eyes found a target unnerringly. "You, girl. Magenta. Come here."

Magenta gulped and turned her head to the sides, glancing at her Sisters.

"Come, come," the old woman croaked impatiently. "Get off your cute ass and let us see you."

Startled into motion, Magenta popped up from the couch and stood in front of the pair.

The old lady squeezed her forearm, touched the ends of her long, red hair, and patted her on the hip.

"A little smart-ass, aren't you?" she said in that soft, gravelly voice, her white eyes locked on Magenta's face.

"Well, ummm, well..." Magenta stammered.

"Heh," the old lady cackled, and turned her head towards the couchs again. Mist motioned the standing girl back to her spot with a tiny nod.

Ornament was called up next. "Heh, the shy ones are such fun," the lady said, making the tiny girl blush. Wrinkled, spotted hands gripped the girl's shoulders with surprising strength before she was dismissed.

Orchid saw those white eyes lock on her, and was rising to her feet even as the old woman said her name.

For a long, breathless moment, the woman just stared at her face, and Orchid wondered again if-and how-she could see.

Finally, she reached up and brushed one boney finger on Orchid's cheek. The girl shuddered, and incredibly felt a tingle of excitement between her legs.

The old lady cackled with delight. "Oh, little one, they're gonna love you!"

Then she was back on the couch, pondering the cryptic remark as tiny tongues of flame danced in her belly.

One by one, the girls were brought up to be touched and appraised, and often subjected to a cutting remark.

"You're not as smart as you think you are," Lily was told.

"We'll find the fire beneath that ice," she said to Heather.

"You need to find some bravery," she told Wisteria.

Gem was last. The old woman pressed a hand against her stomach, then gave her full breasts a squeeze, wringing a shocked gasp from the girl.

"Hold still, brat!" the whispery voice commanded as Gem tried to squirm away. "Think your tits are that special?"

Her face red with discomfort, Gem endured another squeeze without moving. The old lady nodded with some approval.

"Better," she said, dismissing the girl, who fled to her spot on the couchs.

"Well, they're not as totally fucking hopeless as some groups," the woman mused, her milky gaze roaming over the seated girls. Orchid bit her lip. She had heard more cursing in the last fifteen minutes than she had-maybe in her entire life, and felt on the verge of hysterical giggles.

"It's a good group," Mist answered kindly. "They all are."

"Bah," the old lady snorted. "Half the time they can't find their own twats with a map and a flashlight."

"Old mother," the younger woman began, trying to sound exasperated, but she was smiling with amusement. On the couchs, a few of the girls squeaked with surprised, shocked laughter. Orchid laughed too, even though she wasn't entirely certain what the word twat meant.

"Oh don't you 'old mother' me. I was breaking in these brats before your grandfather was old enough to shave. I'll say what I want."

Mist closed her eyes and chuckled.

Orchid's head was spinning. She had never felt so off-balance.

"They'll bring your breakfast here, girls. Then I'll be back to tell you what's going on. I'm sure you'd like to know."

She looked down at the old lady. "Come, old mother, you need to eat too."

"Bossy bratling," the old woman grumbled, but allowed Mist to steer her out through the doorway. The last thing the girls heard was her sandpaper voice saying "It better not be that awful fucking oatmeal crap again."

Orchid looked at Breath, sitting beside her. Her friend's wide eyed, stunned expression perfectly matched her own feelings.

Suddenly, Flower burst into helpless giggles. In seconds, they were all roaring with laughter at the absurdity of it all, laughing until tears flowed down their cheeks.

What in the world had they gotten themselves into?

XXXXXXXXXX

They were still chuckling and wiping their eyes when a figure in one of those black, concealing robes entered, carrying a large, covered wooden tray. Orchid thought it was a different person than before-it looked taller-and wondered how he or she could see from beneath the cowl hiding it's face.

The person set the tray down across the arms of the two chairs, and retreated soundlessly. The girls looked at each other for a moment, then Magenta went over and lifted the cover.

"Breakfast," she announced.

The girls gathered round to look. Their was one big serving bowl in the middle, stacks of smaller bowls, a pile of spoons including one oversized serving spoon, and a pile of biscuits.

Orchid peered at the greyish stuff in the big bowl and pursed her lips.

Breath noted her expression and smiled affectionately. "It's oatmeal," she whispered, "or maybe gruel."

"Oh," Orchid replied without much enthusiasm, remembering how the old woman had grouched. Still, she was hungry, so she filled a bowl in turn, took a biscuit and sat down to eat.

Compared to what they were used to back at the School, it was bland and boring, but it filled their bellies. Orchid wasn't the only one who used her spoon to scrape her bowl clean.

Thistle held her empty bowl up, turning it in her hands. "Brown, white, black, grey-did someone steal all the crayons here?"

"It's a training technique," Lily said wisely. "Take away as much stimuli as possible, and it forces people to focus only on what you want them to learn."

Feather nodded. "No distractions."

"Maybe," Wisteria mused. "The question is...training for what?"

"To be friends, lovers, and play toys," came a reedy cackle. The girls jumped and squeaked as the old mother and Mist returned.

The old ladies cane tap tapped on the floor as she made her way slowly to one of the chairs. Mist quickly picked up the tray so she could sit.

"Amusements, decorations, distractions, and eventually wives," she continued as Mist motioned Gem over. She handed the girl the tray and whispered for her to collect the empty dishes from the others.

"Vens never has enough women," she grey-haired lady continued, her voice seeming to grow stronger as she warmed to her subject, "so we're stuck bringing in some of you brats every year."

"Old mother," Mist began again, but the other woman waved her off impatiently.

"Ahhh shit girl, these pampered pets have been told how special they are their whole damn lives. They need to know what they really are."

Her milky gaze pinned Lily. "You have a question, girl?"

Lily swallowed, looking uncomfortable. "Wh-what are we?"

"Rewards," Mist answered. She glanced over at Gem, standing with a full tray of dishes and looking uncertain.

"Just set it on the floor," Mist said quietly, pointing. It made the old woman cackle and shake her head.

"That's why you're here," she said. "You do what you're told to do, but not much else. Perfect prizes."

"May I, old mother?" Mist asked softly.

"Fine, fine," the elderly woman grumbled. "You tell 'em. I'll just sit here and rot."

Mist smiled indulgently, and Orchid could tell she adored the crabby old lady.

She turned to face the girls, her expression kind. "This is Vens. In this city dwell those who carry out the plans of the gods."

"The brainless drones of the gods," the old lady muttered.

"Old mother," Mist chastised gently. The other woman sneered, but hushed.

"For whatever reason, Vens has always had far more men than women. Mostly, this is a good thing. Only men can harness the power of the gods and use it to do their work in places like Mulvadora."

The older woman lifted her cane and pointed at Magenta. "That one has a question," she said. Mist looked at the sitting girl and nodded.

"Yes, thank you...old mother?" she inquired.

The old lady smirked. "Yes, you can call me that."

"Ok, so does, umm, are you saying it's not the gods that...help us?"

"Those lazy old bastards?" the woman sneered, drawing gasps from the girls with her blasphemy. "They only work when they have to. They'd rather sit on their thrones and bask in their glory. It's the drones here that do most of the daily work."

Her sightless eyes found Magenta, and her expression softened for a moment. "You're wondering about your hero Blazell?" she asked, and Magenta nodded tentatively.

"Don't. For something as big as an army attacking, it is the god himself that comes. It's a chance to show off."

Magenta looked a bit relieved, but the old lady continued. "But when it comes to the little shit...well think about it. Do you really think a god has nothing better to do than come to the rescue every time you have the fucking sniffles?"

Somehow, that made Orchid feel good. She was glad the gods had more important things to worry about than her silly little problems.

"Those routine things," Mist continued, "are taken care of by the men who live here. The best of them are rewarded for their faithful service and hard work. That's where you girls come in."