Hierogamy
The Acolyte kneels on the stone steps of the altar where she has been left. Her eyes are glassy from the tincture she was given, something to help ease her into her new life in service of the god. Under the plain linen robe she was wrapped in her breasts rose and fell with her breath anxiously, her nipples rubbing themselves to hardness and aching on the texture of the fabric constraining them. She feels as though she has waited hours, as though her fatigue might steal her consciousness, when...
Fantasy