My Mother s SonChapter 8 Playing For Kisses
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Time passed. Mother Leah expressed satisfaction with their progress and introduced them to another of the Brides' Rituals. In a niche high in the side of the temple was a statue; a three-quarter size statue of Zebul with its cock upstanding carved out of the living rock and reached by means of a narrow stone staircase. For reasons that were never explained, the statue's cock was required to be kept warm and moist at all times, day and night, winter and summer. The method chosen to do this was simplicity itself — it must be enclosed in a Sister's cunt. So the Sisters took turns. For two hours they would impale themselves upon the stone phallus and slide up and down on it, chanting prayers to Zebul continuously.
Susan was the first to be selected. As it was her firsr time, Sister Moriah accompanied her to show her the ropes. With a wildly beating heart, Susan followed her mentor into the echoing hall. The gasping chants of the Sister currently following the ritual echoed eerily round the cavernous space. They approached the statue. The Sister fucking herself on the stone cock looked at them gratefully. I was Sister Adina, a tall, willowy woman with long, gleaming brown hair. Against her slender frame her breasts looked enormous they bounced up and down in time to her movements. She was clearly tired and her voice was hoarse as she chanted the prayers offering her cunt to the service of her god.
In a whisper, Sister Moriah instructed Susan to remove her habit and climb up along one side of the statue's thighs. As Sister Adina climbed off, she was to swing her leg over and lower herself upon the phallus. As soon as the stone tip entered her, she was to start praying and must cease neither movement nor prayer until she was relieved. Susan was praying already. She was praying that she would come through this ordeal unscathed. The thought of fucking herself on a large stone cock was giving her the willies. The knowledge that she was to do it alone in this creepy place was freaking her out. Sister Moraih asked if she was ready. Susan squared her shoulders and nodded. As soon as she was in place, Sister Adina lifted herself off the stone cock and stumbled down to floor level. Taking a deep breath, Susan swung her leg over the stone thighs. Gingerly, she lowered herself until the tip of the stone cock, was at the entrance of her cunt. She was so surprised to find it warm and slick that she almost forgot to start chanting. A noise from the ground reminded her and, as she slowly lowered herself onto the stone cock, she began to pray. Sister Moriah waited for several minutes to make sure she had the rhythm then, with a satisfied nod, led the exhausted Sister Adina away.
Susan was now alone in the huge vaulted hall with only the light of a couple of candles to keep her company. Her heart beat so loudly it almost drowned out her chanting. The hard warmth of the statue's cock felt very strange in her cunt. The candles flickered and flared alarmingly although there was no breeze. The stone of the statue's belly and thighs, worn smooth and warmed by the bottoms of generations of nuns, felt very strange against her skin.
At first she had to concentrate to shut out her fear and focus on sliding up and down and remembering the words she was to chant. After a while, the sensation of the stone cock in her cunt stopped feeling strange and she stopped worrying that she might slip and damage herself. Gradually, she forgot that she was perched high up in the dark of an eerie nave in an alien land. The rhythmic up and down motion of the warm stone pole in her cunt and the buzzing of her own voice as she chanted became strangely comforting. Her world contracted until these were the only two realities and she lost all sense of where she was. After a time she became aware that the phallus seemed softer and warmer, almost as if it was turning into a real cock, albeit a magnificently stiff one. She found herself responding. The little flutters started in her belly, her nipples grew stiff and hot, a flush spread slowly down her neck and across her shoulders and chest.
"Oh, god, Zebul, I'm cumming. Yes, lord, I'm yours. Make me cum, Lord. Take me with you wonderful hard cock. I'm cumming."
Her abdomen spasmed and her cunt clamped around the stone phallus. Her juices flowed to mingle with those of countless others before her who had also cum here and whose cum, over the years had permeated the statue's stone balls and thighs. Her orgasm was so powerful, it left her breathless and giddy. She wanted to stop, to rest for a while but knew she could not. She had to keep moving. She had to keep chanting. She mustn't stop, not even to recover from the force of her climax. She forced herself to concentrate. The world faded again. The stone cock filled her. She could feel every inch of its smooth hardness against the walls of her vagina. She could feel the texture of the stone belly and thighs as she raised and lowered herself on the cock over and over again. Even her heart seemed to be beating to the rhythm of her movements. Her thighs were beginning to tire but she barely noticed. Time stopped.
"You please me," a deep, resonant voice said in her head.
She gasped and opened her eyes. There was no-one in sight. One of the candles flickered and almost went out.
"There is belief in you. It is strong," the voice said again.
Oddly, she was not afraid. Although the voice was rough and alien, it sounded pleased. Without knowing why, he knew It was Zebul.
"Thank you, Lord," she managed to say without missing a beat.
"You will do well."
"Thank you, Lord. I exist only to serve you."
"I know," the voice sounded amused. "And serve me you will."
Inside her cunt, the stone cock grew hot and swelled and suddenly she was cumming again. Every muscle in her body convulsed and she screamed as wave after wave of ecstasy swept through her lifting her to heights of pleasure she would never have believed possible. Her hands clutched her breasts which felt as if they would burst like balloons, leaving deep red marks where her fingers had gripped them. Unable to move, she slumped, swaying on the statue's cock.
There was the sound of voices and running feet. A handful of nuns came into the hall.
"Fetch Mother Leah," one ordered. "Sister Rebekkah, prepare yourself to take her place. The rest of you, help her down."
Susan was dimly aware of hands lifting her off the stone cock and helping her down to the floor.
"Sorry," she managed to whisper. "Too strong. Couldn't keep up."
"Hush," said a comforting voice. "Mother Leah's coming."
"It's hot," a Sister said in a tone of awe. "The statue's phallus is hot."
Then Mother Leah was at her side. Even through the haze of her exhaustion she was aware of the woman's sexual presence. Leah's hand lifted her chin and Mother Suprerior looked into her eyes.
"Bring her to my cell," she said in a quiet voice.
"Is it... ?" a voice asked.
"Yes. Say no more."
"Sorry. I'm sorry," Susan managed to whisper before blackness overtook her.
She awoke in a strange and comfortable bed. A fire crackled merrily in a grate, shedding warmth and a flickering yellow light. She must have stirred or murmured for, instantly, Mother Leah was by her side.
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