Artist and Model part 12: Ceremony

Nicholas felt compelled to follow into the dark. Their actions and attitudes seemed to different that he thought he had entered some other fantastical world. He shrugged and followed. The narrow passage meandered. It smelled wet and briny. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he heard someone behind him, and he turned around to see who it was but felt a hand grab him out of the shadow and pull him along the path. Lily led him through the passage into a large room with an opening to the sky above his head. Seven large stones lay in a circle. He saw glyphs carved into each face. Moss covered one of the stones. The floor was covered in gravel and dried, sandy mud. Between two large stones, Nicholas could see, faintly in the dark, a deep alcove with a large shape obscured in the shadows.

Lily and Violet presented the book to Nicholas, unwrapping it from its yellow cloth. He reached out and grabbed the heavy book. The four women looked at him expectantly.

The sound of footsteps in the passage caught Nicholas’ attention, and he looked to see who would enter the room. Two tall, beautiful women entered, carrying a third, also bound with rope and blindfolded. They carefully put the bound woman on the ground.

“Natessa! Clarissa!” Helena called and approached them with arms open. “Nicholas, meet Natessa and Clarissa.” She motioned to Natessa, a dark-haired women with blue eyes and dark skin, and Clarissa, who looked almost identical to Natessa only with longer hair. They both wore long, flowing, black robes. Natessa hugged Nicholas and kissed him deeply on the lips, then Clarissa kissed him as well.

Nicholas stood bewildered. He looked at each woman not knowing what to do. Natessa and Clarissa pulled off their robes and dropped them to the floor. Lily, Violet and Helena each removed the few clothes they wore until everyone stood nude in the damp air. Helena approached Nicholas and pointed him to the shadowy shape. Nicholas stepped slowly toward it and saw as his eyes adjusted, he stood before a large stone chair. In it sat a skeleton. It looked old. Years and years old, at least a hundred years. Ivy and flowering vines had grown through the skeleton and bloomed around its face and cap of the skull. A strange wooden crown sat on the top of the skull. It appeared adorned with pearls and pieces of coral and shells.

As Nicholas placed his foot on the first step up toward the throne, the skeleton shifted. Nicholas stood still. The skeleton remained motionless. He took another step, and the skeleton shifted again. Nicholas did not fear for some reason. He felt compelled to touch it, to grab the crown. He took the next step, and the skeleton shifted forward with a lurch, pushing its skull toward Nicholas as though it were bowing. The crown sat within his reach. Nicholas touched it and felt a wave of emotions surge through his body. He felt alone and together with everyone who had worn the crown. He felt energized with youthful vigor of thousands of wild, warrior men but also decrepit and weary with extreme age. He looked down at the crown as it appeared to scintillate different colors of pink, orange, purple, blue and turquoise. Pulling the crown off the skull and placing on his own head slowed his thoughts and gave him a moment of peace. Everything in his life melted away into distant figments of his imagination. As the crown rested on his temple, the skeleton pulled itself from the throne, moved down the steps, then shambled, rattling and shaking, to the dank wall behind the throne. There it reached out as though to pull something from the stone, but instead, it merely pushed itself against the face of stone until the skeleton seemed to become part of the wall. It stopped moving after it turned its head around to look right at Nicholas.

Nicholas sat in the throne. He looked at each face of the woman admiring him in the moment. He knew now they would worship him and do his bidding, but he did not know exactly why. The crown seemed to whisper in his mind, and he opened the heavy book in his hand. He placed it in his lap and flipped it open to a certain page in the middle of the book.

Nicholas began reading the words as they danced before his eyes. Helena and Tamara pulled the bindings from Morgan, and Natessa and Clarissa unbound the woman they brought. The formerly bound women stood and stared at Nicholas as he spoke. After he finished muttering to himself, Clarissa and Helena grabbed the two women and pulled them to a stone pillar, fumbled in the dark and found chains and manacles to bind the two women again. After chaining them, Helena and Clarissa both stripped the two woman of any clothing left.

The stone throne felt cold and grimy. Nicholas sat listening to the crown on his head. His own thoughts began to echo and rhyme with the words whispered deep in his psyche.

As Nicholas sat on the throne the sound of the sea slowly washed silent and he stared at the naked women present in the large room. The stone under him felt warm and electrifying almost. He looked down to see a strange object coming out of the stone throne and into his hand. It looked like a whip.

Nicholas lifted his hand and looked at the whip from stone. It looked like nothing he had seen before, like dark bronze but liquid and flowing loosely even though it stayed in his hand. He flicked his wrist and the whip shot out with a crack.

Grinning, Nicholas held the book in one hand and began muttering phrases that appeared on the pages, and the book slowly floated from his grip and levitated next to him. He felt compelled to step forward into the middle of the room and swung the whip at Morgan as she cowered shackled to the cold stone floor. The whip lashed out and grabbed Morgan around the neck. The liquid quality of the whip enabled it to splash against her body and reform like a collar and leash attached to her neck and held by Nicholas. A surge of wild lust filled Nicholas, and the sounds of Tamara, Helena, Natessa and Clarissa and the others chanting filled the room. Nicholas pulled the whip, and Morgan screamed in pleasure and pain.

As Nicholas’ cock grew ever more rigid as he approached Morgan, she grew increasingly aroused herself. Soon Morgan could not control herself and she flopped forward on her face to stir her shackled hands in her hot, wet pussy. As her fingers stirred, she felt the heat of Nicholas behind her, and she instantly hit her peak and screamed. He grabbed her hair and thrust deep within her in one movement, and Morgan screamed louder. Her pussy gushed around his cock, clenching and tightening as she hit another surge of orgasms. Nicholas pulled the whip, and Morgan went silent. The pleasure was too great and for the time being, she could not think at all. Feeling his cum fill her pussy filled her with joy and a deep dread surrounded by overwhelming lustful delight.

As if by command, Morgan then looked back at Nicholas, and Nicholas pulled the whip free of her throat. Morgan collapsed to the cold floor.

The other woman cried when Nicholas turned to her, but when the whip lashed around her throat, she smiled and laughed.

“Fill me…. please…. cum inside me….” the woman muttered through choked breath.

Nicholas jumped on her pulled her hair violently as he thrust himself deep within her, tugging the whip in the opposite direction as his hand pulled her thick hair. The woman moaned and howled, and her pussy gushed and gushed. Nicholas laughed as he shot one load deep inside her hot pussy, but he did not go down. He get thrusting and pumping until his hot load sprayed again and again, and the woman screamed and moaned in ecstasy.

Finally Nicholas pulled out of the nameless woman shackled to the floor, and each of the harlot sorceresses, the horrid harpies, lined up to service their lord Nicholas. Relishing each pump and squeeze, each load and shot, Nicholas fucked Helena, Tamara, Natessa, Clarissa, Violet and Lily. Completely spent, Nicholas collapsed on the throne, and it felt incredibly warm and comforting to him. The book fluttered and shuffled itself under the throne in a small slot. Nicholas reached with one hand as though by reaction or instinct for something that was not there, but where he reached, out of the air, appeared an ornate gold cup. It moved into his hand, and each of the succubus women approached and withdrew the bronze dagger sitting in the throne and slashed their thumbs, one after another, filling the cup with drops of the blood.

Nicholas drank from the cup and laughed. He felt a strange surge of energy through his body.

***

Nicholas sat looking out over the water from the large balcony as Tamara and Helena both kneeled at his feet, servicing him with their mouths hungrily and passionately slurping and sucking his thick cock.

His whip had collared both of the beautiful harlots. Nicholas pulled his cock from Tamara’s mouth and slapped her in the face with it then slapped Helena. Tamara and Helena both giggled and looked up at him. He stroked himself and finished across their open mouths, his semen dripping from Helena’s thick lips. Tamara helped her clean it from her face, kissing and licking her sister cousin.

They both stood and moved to their bed. Nicholas followed them slowly. His body felt tougher and more resilient than ever. He now enjoyed holding a dominating position over the two hot nymphs.

“How long before my daughters are born?” Nicholas asked Tamara and Helena.

“Not long, Master, but you probably will see very little of the little scamps. Morgan and the other woman, Francine, give us new blood to fill our ranks. You, Master, will father many more. Now get to work giving us more daughters!” Tamara whispered to him.

End

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/bmd6b1/artist_and_model_part_12_ceremony