Still Fixated to supefaction, by his turgid Fascinum... on her knees and clad in only her camisole and a pair of Vasque hiking boots; Heloise remained in a quandary as to an escape from this predicament.
Thinking she was having a nightmare in daylight, and hoping soon to wake up...but the still amorous Satyr stood proudly, calmly before her with that enigmatic half smile, the brazen stance, and firm intent.
Heloise thought back to the various hagiographic accounts of the many saints she had studied...who in finding themselves in trying perils; overcame their trials through the transcendant powers of prayer...she therefore began to pray to her maker for deliverance from this fiendish, bestial creature.
Beginning to tremble with fear as she did this, and whimpering for mercy...crossing herself...and then in a panicked state trying to crawl past the vision on all fours...but to no avail... as he stepped to either side as she attempted a break for it. Then she dissolved in an hysterical breakdown at his feet...( and hooves they were....the hooves of a goat and,shaggy goat-like calves to his knees , but from there upwards... he had the thighs and body of a young vital man.)
Heloise pounded the ground and his hooves with her fists, pleading to be freed... he spoke not a word; unmoved and gently smiling. Then a strange thing happened;....he placed a gentle hand on her head... and whispered in a gentle tone with melifluous voice..."Alphonsine,.... Alphonsine... je veux te baiser..... je veux te baiser....Alphonsine". Heloise could not believe her ears, as he used her childhood given name...He raised her up to meet his gaze; her head came only to the level of his shoulders...he fixed her eyes with his... she stared into them despite herself... his eyes were limpid green of the colour of the grey-green seas; that deepened in a ring of forest green around the deep black pools of his pupils. He kissed her gently on the forehead, the nose, then her lips, her neck, her breasts, her belly!-... and then gently caressing her queynte muff- he knelt before her...and with hot animal breath, lips, and tongue, began to lick her queynte, " full savourly!!...ere she was ware of this!!" He caressed in a loving way, her flanks and her nates as he did this, ... while Heloise continued to whimper quietly.....but his earthy magic then began to take effect... he was kindling a rising fire in her loins!... a fire never felt before!- And now, now! her fear gave way to a strange and magical awakening, that echoed the spring!... she looked down at the golden mass of curls and locks now glued like a mollusc or limpet to her pelvis...and throwing her head back into the pounding sunlight of midday at its highest axis....Heloise moaned softly in a new sensation of enveloping pleasure!
The bees buzzed, the birds chirped an inquisitive voyeuristic approval- yes... they knew the ancient score. They sang a reverent knowing chorus...these sounds mingled with his hungered breath, his salivating, probing tongue, flicking in and out of her long neglected queynte... her labia swelled in a rubeate engorgement -tingling with happy electrical sparks of needles and pins, causing her spinal cord to shiver with waves of pleasure rising to her brain...., then bouncing back down again to her vulvic mound.
She gently beat his shoulders with her fists- clutched madly at his locks...holding him firmly in place if he desisted, ( for even a moment!), from his noble task... she grew tyrannical, greedy for pleasure-" Oh who? What are your oh whooooo ,....ooooooohhhh....nnnnngggh uunnnhhh,,ooooh!!"she intoned, moaningly...."Oh , OOOOh! Yeh,,,....Yeesssssss!!!Yeh ,nnnn,.....so good!, Oh so goood!!! Oh"...she gasped in anguished crisis.
He lapped, and smacked his lips, he tongued manfully at her labia majora and minora, in a lavish lickerous circular motion ending briefly to linger on her clitoral jewel-... this sent a shuddering ruction through her body with a jolt!, causing her to thrust her pelvic girdle at his nose, his mouth , ... maniacally! and with no conscious bodily control whatsoever!
He began to finger her nether regions, with a freehand, gradually, gently, forcing a digit into her anus-!...she found new joy in this , so unexpected, this double and simultaneous ministration- of new sensate excitement...riveting her booted feet to the sod!
After what seemed an age... he stopped...stood up, smiled into her sweat streaked, flushed face; red with urgency and distraction. Then, with sudden super-human brute animal strength!!... he lifted her bodily up to the level of his chest....and lowered her steadily, gradually yet firmly onto the patient, and still pulsing shaft of his massively rigid and deeply veined spear of a phallic fascinum- as hard as steel, oak, glass or bone!..its head ; a full blown mitred corona of mushroom cap! enpurpled and pink with lifes-blood- replete...! in a gathered collar of retracted foreskin, crested, beneath la fleche, of the magic arrowhead pointing up to a glistening urethral slit that was both its' single eye and its' mouth.
The insertion of the engorged head alone, caused Heloise to scream with joyful shock, and to grip her legs instantly, and tightly, around his powerful torso- her arms on his shoulders, ... he gave a solid , swift, initial thrust !! plunging deeply into the hilt! grunting- like the wild halfman , half beast that he was!
Heloise felt an explosion inside her , but this was only the beginning of her epiphany!!, Her toes curled in her boots!; she bit into his chest, she dug her nails into his back!! an overload of stimulae filled her brain. He stood motionless- holding her up by the nates, in his powerful forearms...then lifted her slowly up the length of his rooted tree incumbent! Then,... just as it seemed she would come off the end!,... back down the long gliding journey she came with a fleshy SMACK!,... as their pelvic basins locked again in joyful unison. With each rise her vulva clamoured , gripped , clawed itself back-!! clutching!, Clamping!- squeezing his member! Greedy!... not to relinquish this newfound treasured gem!
Colours swam before her eyes, ...balls of flame and light descended in massed clusters, and broke in floral explosions deep within her psyche and her soul!!
Saturday, 7 February 2009
Monday, 2 February 2009
The Temple of the Four Winds; Part Three: Bluestars
Heloise turned to see nothing-but what was there before; the dappled sun on marble, mosses and lichens here and there , soft breezes sighing through the collonade in the warmth of midday.
Framed in the entrance; the grinning Satyr and the laughing Maenad, anticipating imminent pagan joy.
They disgusted her- they had to go; that was it, upon her return to La Couvent de la Sang Precieux, she would draft a petition; a petition to post in the Marche du village... a petition to have that ungodly idol to (wanton lust), in bestial form), removed,destroyed,shipped out and pulverized to plaster dust if need be. Thence to have another more Christian piece take its place on the Parian plinth. "Our Lady du Quatre Vents de Vaude", perhaps- "Christ in Majesty" or better still , "Saint Francois d'Assisi des Oiseaux", infinitely more fitting , she felt, to this ornithological oasis.
However, she thought, 'it could take time, there could be opposition', she would have to plan her attack with care. In the meantime, while she remained lost in pensive cogitation, the sun, the lemonade, the packed lunch had an eventual effect; she had to soon answer a "call of nature".
Heloise gathered herself and made her way to the copsewood, entered it and ten yards in came upon a small sunlit clearing, quite cut off from the belvedere itself , and overhung with weeping Birch, - whose whisps of pendulous pannicles swayed gently back and forth in the dulcet breeze.
She had found the perfect outdoor room in which to relieve herself of the 'ungraceful load'. Defecation and urination were two bodily functions that both irked and embarassed her greatly, they had to be gotten through with the utmost care, planning and decorum.
Not a soul was about, but having to be certain, she looked about furtively nevertheless, before beginning to disrobe.Her wrappings were voluminous, the wimpled and winged cap, the peplum , the habit, the cambric slip beneath ,down to the final culottes and camisole , (she left on), this last item , which covered her ample breasts but left her midriff and lower extremities free to the air.
This left her ready for the 'filthy' and 'disagreeable' task at hand. Straddling a log, and holding onto a convenient overhanging tree branch to steady herself, she squatted , to relieve herself. The scent of her own earth, disgusted her sensibilities further, the hissing whirr of her steaming urine glistened in the hot sun... and she prayed to be done with this quickly; crossing herself as she proceeded, Flies , she knew, would not be long from appearing to gather for their disgusting feasting and egg laying on her waste material. Still evacuating and emptying her bladder, she whispered under her breath to the almighty, " Would you had made us otherwise oh great creator....! Why this disgusting affliction?" Finally she had finished, and crossing herself yet again, began to clean herself with some linens brought specifically for the purpose, and then began to root around for leaves, mosses and twigs to cover the deposited, unlovely mess.
Feeling much improved she busied herself to gather her garments, (humming her favourite hymn as she did; 'Panis Angelicus'). She knelt to pick up her habit, and then, suddenly, ... looking up took a short gasp of breath, to see a sight so unexpected , so initially terrifying, that it almost knocked her off her feet.
It was the Ithyphallic Pan of the Temple!, incarnate, standing in the glorious sunlight only ten feet away from her. He lived!, he breathed!, he stood before her full of the ruddy rosiness and tanned tautness of living human/animal flesh. The hair of his head hung in sandy golden ringlets of tight little curls down to his shoulders. The torso was a bronze delineation of gently expansive sinew...and hairless but for a thin line of golden down that ran between his breasts ending below at the forested region of his turgid tumescence; couched and nestled in a rufous golden bush of tightly knitted pubic hair.
Heloise, gave a short feeble yelp, falling to her knees crossing herself repeatedly and blinking at the sight before her. Was it some mirage?, some trick of the afternoon sunlight?... she prayed to sweet Jesus , and God The Almighty, but to no avail... the beast stood before her in a kind of sunbeam of radiance. "Who, Whooo er a are you....??" , she stammered imploringly. The Satyr made no move, but only smiled a calm, warm and friendly smile...showing perfectly formed pearly white teeth.
He seemed younger and more handsome than his prototype in the temple, his eyes glowed warm and green and kindly....not at all the beastly savage he seemed im marble.
Heloise knelt transfixed, and found herself gazing rapt , almost hypnotized, as if by a Cobra and snake charmer, ( the kind she had heard of in the Orient), and had seen in books.
Still she stared and found her eyes magnetically fixated on his throbbing Phallus,....this ; she had never seen the like of before... it was perfectly formed; a golden rigid shaft standing upright from its' nest, and replete with the elegant lacing of a voluminous prepuce; the owner slid leisurely up and down the root with one hand. Heloise felt a rising drum in her head and temples.... rising hotly up into her skull in a rhythmic pounding cadence that matched her pounding heartbeat... and in tune with the throbbing ,bobbing thrum and pulse of the fleshy animal member before her , that hit the belly of the beast at regular intervals.
Framed in the entrance; the grinning Satyr and the laughing Maenad, anticipating imminent pagan joy.
They disgusted her- they had to go; that was it, upon her return to La Couvent de la Sang Precieux, she would draft a petition; a petition to post in the Marche du village... a petition to have that ungodly idol to (wanton lust), in bestial form), removed,destroyed,shipped out and pulverized to plaster dust if need be. Thence to have another more Christian piece take its place on the Parian plinth. "Our Lady du Quatre Vents de Vaude", perhaps- "Christ in Majesty" or better still , "Saint Francois d'Assisi des Oiseaux", infinitely more fitting , she felt, to this ornithological oasis.
However, she thought, 'it could take time, there could be opposition', she would have to plan her attack with care. In the meantime, while she remained lost in pensive cogitation, the sun, the lemonade, the packed lunch had an eventual effect; she had to soon answer a "call of nature".
Heloise gathered herself and made her way to the copsewood, entered it and ten yards in came upon a small sunlit clearing, quite cut off from the belvedere itself , and overhung with weeping Birch, - whose whisps of pendulous pannicles swayed gently back and forth in the dulcet breeze.
She had found the perfect outdoor room in which to relieve herself of the 'ungraceful load'. Defecation and urination were two bodily functions that both irked and embarassed her greatly, they had to be gotten through with the utmost care, planning and decorum.
Not a soul was about, but having to be certain, she looked about furtively nevertheless, before beginning to disrobe.Her wrappings were voluminous, the wimpled and winged cap, the peplum , the habit, the cambric slip beneath ,down to the final culottes and camisole , (she left on), this last item , which covered her ample breasts but left her midriff and lower extremities free to the air.
This left her ready for the 'filthy' and 'disagreeable' task at hand. Straddling a log, and holding onto a convenient overhanging tree branch to steady herself, she squatted , to relieve herself. The scent of her own earth, disgusted her sensibilities further, the hissing whirr of her steaming urine glistened in the hot sun... and she prayed to be done with this quickly; crossing herself as she proceeded, Flies , she knew, would not be long from appearing to gather for their disgusting feasting and egg laying on her waste material. Still evacuating and emptying her bladder, she whispered under her breath to the almighty, " Would you had made us otherwise oh great creator....! Why this disgusting affliction?" Finally she had finished, and crossing herself yet again, began to clean herself with some linens brought specifically for the purpose, and then began to root around for leaves, mosses and twigs to cover the deposited, unlovely mess.
Feeling much improved she busied herself to gather her garments, (humming her favourite hymn as she did; 'Panis Angelicus'). She knelt to pick up her habit, and then, suddenly, ... looking up took a short gasp of breath, to see a sight so unexpected , so initially terrifying, that it almost knocked her off her feet.
It was the Ithyphallic Pan of the Temple!, incarnate, standing in the glorious sunlight only ten feet away from her. He lived!, he breathed!, he stood before her full of the ruddy rosiness and tanned tautness of living human/animal flesh. The hair of his head hung in sandy golden ringlets of tight little curls down to his shoulders. The torso was a bronze delineation of gently expansive sinew...and hairless but for a thin line of golden down that ran between his breasts ending below at the forested region of his turgid tumescence; couched and nestled in a rufous golden bush of tightly knitted pubic hair.
Heloise, gave a short feeble yelp, falling to her knees crossing herself repeatedly and blinking at the sight before her. Was it some mirage?, some trick of the afternoon sunlight?... she prayed to sweet Jesus , and God The Almighty, but to no avail... the beast stood before her in a kind of sunbeam of radiance. "Who, Whooo er a are you....??" , she stammered imploringly. The Satyr made no move, but only smiled a calm, warm and friendly smile...showing perfectly formed pearly white teeth.
He seemed younger and more handsome than his prototype in the temple, his eyes glowed warm and green and kindly....not at all the beastly savage he seemed im marble.
Heloise knelt transfixed, and found herself gazing rapt , almost hypnotized, as if by a Cobra and snake charmer, ( the kind she had heard of in the Orient), and had seen in books.
Still she stared and found her eyes magnetically fixated on his throbbing Phallus,....this ; she had never seen the like of before... it was perfectly formed; a golden rigid shaft standing upright from its' nest, and replete with the elegant lacing of a voluminous prepuce; the owner slid leisurely up and down the root with one hand. Heloise felt a rising drum in her head and temples.... rising hotly up into her skull in a rhythmic pounding cadence that matched her pounding heartbeat... and in tune with the throbbing ,bobbing thrum and pulse of the fleshy animal member before her , that hit the belly of the beast at regular intervals.
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