You're unable to read via this Friend Link since it's expired. Learn more
Member-only story
The Priestess and the Queen
Vengeance and the Breeding Ceremony: Part 1 of 3
An exotic erotic collaboration between Posy Churchgate & JK Mill
The lamps flickered making shadows leap, and the hieroglyphics on the walls of the temple seemed animated as Queen Sefideh knelt beside her young husband. This was a closed ceremony, only the royal couple and the seven handmaidens to the gods occupied the hallowed space. Outside the heavy doors, Nubian slaves stood guard, having pledged their lives to the protection and veneration of King Hepsekar.
The King’s usually tan skin looked unhealthy in the gloom. Sheened with sweat, he trembled and began to shake, as the bitter herbs ground into an essence that he had recently swallowed began to assault his system. His groan was muted, he would not have shown weakness, but his stomach spasmed and the chamber see-sawed while his vision became shadowy.
Two female celebrants came to his aid, standing on either side of him. They had rare permission to touch his royal person, so they supported his arms and lowered him to a rug in front of the altar before he passed out and fell. His wife rose from her knees and was guided away to sit on a golden dias by another of the High Priestess’ handmaidens. From this vantage point, she would watch them enact a fertility enhancement ceremony on Hepsekar.
Her mouth was dry with anticipation, but when she saw Priestess Ntuk approach her husband, with nothing to conceal her slender nakedness except the ancient mystical symbols etched on her body with grease paint, she felt more alive than she could remember.
It was more than the possibility of an heir that excited her, though she knew that would relieve her husband’s heart. A year had passed since they were married in a ceremony far more lavish and public than this one, and Sefideh had yet to quicken with child. The worry weighed on Hepsekar like a pyramid stone, and the young queen knew the fault was her own.
An heir and a content king were enough to lift her heart, but as she watched Ntuk place her hands on her husband’s wide shoulders, chanting softly, she realised the lightness in her being was more than that; she wanted to watch this ceremony, to bear witness…
