Beauty and Joy

Story by BlakeTheDrake on SoFurry

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#2 of Empire of the Ancient Sands

Not far from the River Nile, a secret excavation is taking place, sponsored by a shadowy organization. Those who work there only reluctantly venture into the carved stone passages below, and no deeper than they must as they seek to clear the way for those who will come after them: Fanatical adherents of their order, women ready and eager to give their bodies and souls over to the pleasure of ancient, long-forgotten gods. A deity slumbers in the depths of the tomb, waiting for those with the courage to awaken her.

However, not all gods thirst for the blood of sacrifices. For every god of war and death, there is a god of joy and laughter... or perhaps a goddess.


Empire of the Ancient Sands

Part 2 - Beauty and Joy

The foreman wiped sweat from his brow, looking nervously out across the small valley. It was abandoned still - as one might expect, seeing as there was no reason for anyone to be there. However, just across the hill to the east, the mighty Nile flowed, with all the traffic that implied. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed their presence, despite their best efforts to remain subtle. You couldn't really conduct an archaeological dig without leaving some traces, after all. Hopefully, that time would be AFTER they were done and had all gone home. The government - whomever that might be this particular month - tended to take a dim view of unauthorized digs.

But it shouldn't be long now. The coded message he'd received from his contact in the Order had claimed that the aspirants were already on the way. Once they arrived, it would be a matter of hours - a day, at most - before they could all pack up and go home. His ears perked at the sound of an engine's remote growling, and he quickly lifted his binoculars to look in the direction of the sound. Maybe it was the transport from the Order... or maybe it was a group of militiamen heading out to look into reports of a possible illegal dig. Reaching down to his waist, he clicked a button on his comm, sending a brief hiss of static through it. The guards stationed at the entrance to the valley would know what that meant - 'be ready, but don't shoot without orders'.

The covered truck that rumbled into view looked old and generic. Lots of people used them, including the army. However, as it turned to enter the valley, he got a clear view of the cabin and breathed a sigh of relief, grabbing his comm-unit and lifting it to his lips. "Stand down, people. Our friends are here." Nearby workers who overheard stopped in their tracks, grinning. He quickly turned to glare at them, sending them scurrying back to their work. There was still much to be done, even though the heavy lifting was over. Digging through the sand and dirt to find the ruins of the ancient temple had been hard, but it was nothing compared to getting through the large blocks of stone that had barred the way into the underground chamber - they couldn't use explosives for fear of attracting undue attention, after all. First granite, then marble... both inscribed with hieroglyphics he had no idea how to read. Photos of the marks had been sent back to the Order, however, and apparently they confirmed that they were in the right place.

The deepest chamber, however, remained untouched. He was ranked high enough within the Order to have some idea of what was down there, and he was quite happy that it wasn't HIS job to go down there and ring a bell or whatever. He worshiped the Old Gods, sure... but he would much rather do so from a safe distance. And so, once the second seal had been breached, they had pulled back and began to clean up while they waited for those who WOULD venture into the chamber and seek to awaken the god slumbering within. When they left, there would be no evidence left behind to indicate who had unsealed this ancient temple, or why. Just the way the Order preferred it.

The truck screeched to a halt in front of him, and while the driver remained behind the wheel, the woman in the passenger-seat jumped out. Seeing her there had immediately told him everything he needed to know. No military force would have a woman dressed like her riding up front. He had never met one of the prospective God-Wives before, but he knew instantly that was what he was facing now. A woman groomed to stand side by side with a god. She was certainly beautiful - though not in the fashion of a girl, but in the fashion of a woman. Her curves were generous and motherly, with broad hips and a chest that seemed to strain to escape from the simple, white dress that she wore. Her face was calm and warm, carrying with it the confidence of someone who knew what she wanted and had lived too long to care what anyone thought of her.

Wrinkles at the corner of her eyes and around her mouth told of many smiles and laughs in her past, and her eyes were bright and lively. He barely dared hazard a guess as to her age... from appearance alone, he would've guessed early thirties, but there was a weight of experience to her that convinced him she was older than that - late thirties, maybe early forties. Not that it really mattered, he told himself as he tried to pick his jaw off the floor. It was easy for young men to be seduced by the flower of youth, but what he faced was the fruit of maturity, promising a sweet and filling taste, far more substantial than the ephemeral scent of the flower.

Blinking, he realized that he'd been staring at the woman for at least a solid minute, and that she had noticed him doing so, returning his gaze with a confident smile. "You're in charge here, right? I trust the passage into the sealed chamber has been readied?" Her voice was exactly as he had expected it to be - warm and smooth. He quickly nodded, and finally found his own voice. "Yes... yes, we've gotten through all the seals, and we set up a ramp at the turn of the passage. You've got the key and the sacrifice ready?" She grinned, lifting a necklace up from her ample cleavage. It was a small, roughly oval plate of turquoise, with a single hieroglyph resembling a bird inside a square engraved on its front. "The key's right here. As for the sacrifice..."

She turned and gestured towards the rear of the truck, where a gaggle of women had emerged. His eyebrows went up as he saw them. A motley crowd, perhaps a dozen strong - the youngest looked to be little more than a teenager, while the oldest had to be at least in her mid-thirties. They were all good-looking and physically fit, though none of them had the kind of radiant beauty their leader possessed. From their simple, white dresses - patterned after the traditional clothes of the dynastic eras - and antique-replica jewelry, it was clear that they were all adherents of the Order of the Ancient Sands, just like him.

He wheeled to face the woman again, mouth opening to protest, but her hand gripped his shoulder before he could talk, and a calmness seemed to be extruded by it. "Don't worry for them, dear. There are many kinds of sacrifices, and not all gods are thirsty for blood." He nodded, swallowing. She probably knew best. Returning his nod firmly, she walked past him, the other girls quickly forming up behind her as she descended the ramp leading down into the dig - and the unsealed tomb beyond.

The women clustered tightly behind her as they descended through the passage, its smooth walls carved from the bedrock itself. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the way they were nervously looking around, and particularly looking back towards the rapidly-shrinking glimmer of light that represented the exit to the surface. Sighing, she clucked her tongue and turned around to look at them, causing the procession to rapidly stop. "If you've changed your minds about this, now's the time to speak up. If you feel like the sacrifice asked of you is too great, then turn around and walk back up there. But if you are still determined... then remember that we walk now into the sleeping-chamber of a GOD, and do not look back." Her voice was kind, yet firm - a mother's gentle command. The women looked at one another, then nodded before speaking in chorus. "We go with you, Meritamen!"

Smiling, Meritamen nodded and turned around, holding her torch high as she continued down into the tomb. Behind her, the younger women walked quickly to keep up, several of them holding torches as well. They had decided, before they even got to the dig, that they would use old-fashioned means of lighting, and avoid bringing any modern technology into the chamber... hopefully, the lack of any jarring artifacts of progress would ease the awakening of the goddess. Fortunately, the excavators had done a good job of readying their path - at the point where the passage doubled back underneath itself, just past the rubble that was all that remained of the second seal, a wooden ramp had been built along the walls, saving them the trouble of having to brave rope-ladders or the like.

Beyond that, however, the atmosphere became increasingly oppressive. The workers hadn't ventured any deeper into the tomb than they had to, so once they were past the ramp, the women found themselves treading on ground that had not seen footsteps in over two thousand years. The air was dusty and murky, and the torches sputtered above their heads. Instinctively, they once again clustered in close behind their leader, but even then, they all refused to look back. And soon enough, their footsteps - hesitant and determined alike - led them to the sealed chamber, deep beneath the sands, where a god slumbered.

They had all heard the accounts of the recently-uncovered Tomb of Anubis - and certainly, this chamber seemed to resemble what they had heard quite closely. A raised, pentagonal dais, each corner marked by an obelisk covered in hieroglyphics, and four large slabs of obsidian set into the side-walls, each marked with a single symbol - the bird in the box, a hieroglyph that stood for the name of the tomb's resident. In the middle of the pentagon, on a great stone throne, she sat - a beautiful woman, generously-curved and bedecked with jewelry, including a grand necklace. The looked quite human, save for one detail - a pair of large, curved horns emerging from the top of her head, with a stone disc suspended between them.

"Hathor..." breathed one of the girls, awe in her voice. She had been an adherent of the Order for some time, but suddenly she realized that she hadn't truly believed in the Old Gods until this very moment - as she gazed upon the face of the goddess she had been chosen to serve, locked in unmoving stone. Meritamen merely nodded and discarded her torch on the floor, pulling off her necklace, in the center of which the small, semi-precious gemstone glimmered. As she pulled the engraved turquoise off its string and approached the central obelisk, the women behind her held their breaths as one. Their eyes were riveted on their mentor's hand as she searched the engravings on the obelisk for the one spot where a particular hieroglyphic was missing from the text... and pushed the turquoise into the empty space.

A warm, blue-green glow began to spread through the hieroglyphs on the obelisk, and as the assembled priestesses fell to their knees and lowered their heads in awe, the light spread through the base of the dais to the remaining obelisks. When all five were lit, the mystic energy gathered at their peaks, then surged together in the center, covering the statue of Hathor in turquoise-shaded light. Cracks grew across the statue's features, light shining through the fractures, and a powerful radiance emerged from her eyes even before the stone began to break apart and fall away to reveal what lay beneath. Hathor, the living goddess, shook herself free of the petrification, sending fragments of crumbling rock tumbling noisily across the floor.

As the other priestesses remained kneeling, staring intensely at the floor, Meritamen stepped up onto the dais, shedding the simple one-piece dress she was wearing and beginning to unbuckle her bra while admiring the inhuman vision of beauty before her. Hathor, goddess of joy, beauty, love, motherhood and fertility was everything she'd ever imagined her to be, and more. Her beauty was literally unreal, somehow combining the finest features of a young girl taking her first steps into adulthood, the woman who had grown into her role, and the mother, comfortable in her own skin. Her body, by the same count, seemed simultaneously slim and athletic, curvaceous and girlish. The only thing that seemed truly solid about her was her eyes - large, warm and brown, seeming to contain a bottomless love for all things.

Having divested herself of all clothes and adornments, Meritamen kneeled before the throne. Hathor had yet to speak, but she could feel the goddess eyes on her back. The tension was carried on for another couple of seconds before the lips of the goddess parted, and her voice - warm and clear, seemingly youthful and sultry at the same time - rose to ask a question in the tongue of the ancient kingdoms; a tongue that Meritamen had labored long and hard to learn and master. "Long have I slept, mortal, and well have I rested. For what purpose have you awakened me?" Meritamen breathed deeply, willing her voice to be steady. "To aid the children of Egypt, and to protect this fertile land in the midst of the desert - as you always have."

The goddess sighed, shifting on her throne. "I had hoped that the world would have moved on, that the power of my kind was no longer needed...but apparently not. If Egypt needs me, then I must awaken - and rise." Her eyes flashed briefly with blue-green energy, before returning to warm brown as they focused on the naked woman kneeling before her. "And who, then, are you?" Meritamen lifted her head, letting her eyes meet those of the goddess. "I have taken the name Meritamen, and I seek to take the place of your God-Wife and High Priestess. I am yours, if you would have me." Hathor's eyebrows rose high on the impossibly-beautiful face, and a smile crested her full lips. Leaning forwards on her throne, she reached down a slender hand to grip Meritamen's chin, moving her head around to let the light shining from the still-glowing obelisks wash over her face.

"I see, I see... your have the face of one who has known love and joy and laughter in spades... a mother, I perceive." Meritamen blinked, shivering slightly under the smooth touch of the goddess. The hand that held her head was slim, feminine, perfectly proportioned - and easily twice the size of her own. "Yes, my mistress - several times over. There is no greater joy than the act of bringing new life into this world." Hathor nodded, smiling gently, and released her grip as she leaned back again. "True words, mortal... true indeed. Perhaps you ARE suitable for the role you seek." Her deep, dark eyes panned across the rest of the chamber, noting the dozen-odd women kneeling in supplication before the dais. "And what of these women? Do they also aspire to serve in my name?"

Meritamen suppressed the urge to look back at her companions. "In a sense, my mistress. They have come here to offer themselves to your sons, to aid them in replenishing their numbers. An offering upon your awakening." Hathor's eyes creased with mirth, and she licked her lips in a strangely erotic way as she let her eyes fall on the obsidian panels lining the chamber. "Ahh, my dear sons... after so long asleep, they would indeed welcome a diversion, I'm sure." Again, her eyes flashed with energy, and seconds later, a series of impacts made the entire chamber ring like a bell, small fragments of stone and sand raining from the ceiling as patterns of cracks and fractures appeared on the obsidian slabs.

A snorting, aggressive sound could be heard, seemingly coming from every direction at once - and moments later, the four obsidian doorways set into the sides of the chamber exploded outwards, fragments of stone flying through the air as huge, dark shapes appeared from the now-gaping passageways. Some of the flying debris came perilously close to the kneeling group of priestesses, but somehow the black fragments never quite touched them. Hathor looked around at the freshly-emerged totemic beasts with a broad smile. "Ahh... my sons, my Apis... I bid you all good morning." Meritamen, too, couldn't resist looking around at them. They were great bulls - not unnaturally large, but certainly big, bulky and muscular, with black coats and white markings. The markings were clearly unnatural - too sharp and clearly-defined to be the result of random biology. A triangle upon their foreheads, the outline of great wings upon their backs, and a crescent moon on their flanks. The Apis, worshiped in times past as the messengers of the gods, their representatives in the mortal realm.

There were no more than eight of them, two emerging from each portal, but their presence seemed to fill the chamber completely. Their eyes were burning with the same blue-green energy that lit the entire tomb, and they were looking at the priestesses with a strangely hungry demeanor. Hathor laughed, a sound like dancing pearls. "Always the first thing on your minds, isn't it? Yes, they are for you all... but hold, for a moment still." Her eyes, suddenly serious, scanned the group of women. "They wish to serve my children...that is fine. But to bear their calves is a great sacrifice. If they make that choice, they will never again bear the children of men. And even if they someday leave my service, no human man will be able to pleasure them." Meritamen nodded, certainty written across her face. "They are aware of this, and prepared for it. That is the sacrifice we have chosen to give you upon your awakening. They will bear many strong calves for your sons, and see their numbers surge. If you will pardon me saying so, my mistress... in this world, you will have need of more than eight sons."

Hathor looked pensive, but then she nodded. "So be it, then. I hereby induct these women as Priestesses of Apis. May they serve my children well." She lifted a hand, and incandescent energy gathered in it. On her chest, the necklace of turquoise beads she wore began to shine as well, particularly the large, oval plate of gold set in the center, bearing the design of a stylized cow's head with a sun-disk between its horns. The energy washed from her hand like waves striking a beach and hit the kneeling women, who gasped as they felt the divine power wash over them. Then Hathor lowered her hand again, and the moment was over. The women looked up to see eight snorting bulls approaching them, each with something large and pendulous dangling beneath them, and as one, they scrambled to their feet and pulled off their dresses. With the exception of a couple of the older women, who needed a bit of extra 'support' in the chest-department, none of them wore anything beneath - and seconds later, they were all on their hands and knees, bare buttocks turned towards the approaching bulls as the rising pitch of their excited breathing mingled with the rumbling snorts of the Apis.

The black bulls did not waste time - each of them simply picked a woman, and stepped over her. Their cocks hang heavy beneath their bellies, emerging from their sheaths several feet from the point between their legs where a pair of fist-sized testicles dangled pendulously. The pale-red rods bobbed up and down with the heartbeats of the great beasts, but nonetheless, as they stepped on forwards, they all instantly found their marks. Eight women moaned in unison as their pussy-lips were parted by a large intrusion - the head of each shaft was easily two inches across, but they had all been prepared, and the bulls met little resistance initially. However, the shafts gradually widened, and the bulls were pushing forwards with no regard for the safety of their mates...

The youngest of the group - a skinny girl barely 18 years of age - had been amongst the ones chosen. Her moans were rising rapidly in pitch as she felt her labia stretch apart with the growing girth of the bovine shaft, initial excitement giving way to pain. She had, until a few seconds ago, been technically a virgin - she'd never been with a man, or for that matter an animal. She had 'practiced' with a variety of toys, provided by the order, but she hadn't really expected to be picked for duty so soon. Now, she was feeling her first real penetration, her first flesh-and-blood cock, and her enjoyment was rapidly turning into panic as it pushed deeper and deeper inside of her. She wasn't certain what that wave of seemingly-magical energy earlier had been supposed to do, but it clearly wasn't stopping her pussy from feeling like it was about to be torn apart.

Deep inside of her, she could feel the bull's thick cockhead hit something - her cervix, gatekeeper of her womb. She knew that some of the women in the Order, particularly those who aspired to become High Priestess of the more well-equipped deities, had trained their cervix to stretch to some degree... but even for them, something as thick as the bull's tool would've been impossible to handle, and _she_had no such training. And yet, the Apis-bull was still advancing, pushing forwards with the same strength she'd just watched shatter rocks...

...entirely unnecessarily, as it turned out. As the bull-cock's tip pushed firmly against her cervix, it opened up, stretching as easily as her labia had done. She could feel the narrow passage expanding effortlessly and painlessly to accommodate the two-inch-thick intruder - and as the long tool continued to advance, it stretched even further. The womb beyond, meanwhile, received the thick intrusion as an honored guest - even as the insertion continued, to the point where it pushed against the back of her uterus, the flexible tissue simply stretched and warped to accommodate it. The sensation was bizarre and unreal - between her labia and her cervix, she could still feel the pain of her body stretching to accommodate the thick, veiny shaft, but beyond that point, everything just felt... right. Even though she could tell that her body was being forced into a new shape, it didn't feel wrong or bad. It was like that cock BELONGED inside her womb - it fit there perfectly, like a key in a keyhole.

When the bull finally stopped moving, she could feel the coarse coat of his belly against her bony buttocks. Bending her head low, she looked back between her small, pert breasts, and confirmed that she had, indeed, taken it all. Her pussy was right up against his sheath, and she could see a vague outline of his full, foot-and-a-half length against her otherwise-flat belly... and parts of her chest. The first half of that hurt badly - her pussy was obviously stretched to the breaking-point, but already it was starting to get used to the size, the pounding pain growing gradually number. The second half, buried far past the point where any penetration _should_have been possible, felt perfect - just like she'd dreamed that real, proper sex would feel like. It was conflicting and confusing... but as the bull began to slowly pump his haunches, sliding back out of her, lubricated by her own juices, the pleasurable part of the equation rapidly won out.

Based on the moans she could hear echoing through the tomb, her experience was far from unique... and as she forced her eyes to refocus on the world around her, hoping to take a look around at the other women, she realized that a pair of bare feet were right in front of her. Following them up along the curve of a pair of widely-spread legs, she realized that one of the other women who had not been chosen by the bulls - a girl just a few years older than her - had taken up position in front of the one who had mounted her. With her hips thrust obscenely forwards and her hands parting the outer labia, she was offering her pussy to the bull - and he was eagerly partaking, licking at her sweet juices, occasionally gnawing gently on the exposed flesh.

Of course, several women had been left behind when the Apis mounted their chosen cows... there was nearly twice as many of them as there were of the bulls, after all. But as she swept her gaze sideways, taking in the scenes taking place beside her, she could see that none of them were wasting any time showing the Apis their worth, by any means they could. The one before her wasn't the only one offering up her pussy as a salt-lick, but there were also two who instead kneeled before a bull, passionately kissing him on the muzzle - sucking on his thick, bovine tongue. A couple of others had moved on a different target, seating themselves BEHIND the bull, between the powerful hind-legs, and had started licking and kissing the large, heavy testicles that dangled there. The ballsacks were long and slack enough that they could maintain a hold on them, lifting them to their mouths, even as the bulls accelerated their thrusts. One particularly eager woman had even climbed onto the back of a bull - somehow - and was now hanging her head over his rear, pulling his tail aside so that she could bury her face in his rump. From her present angle, she couldn't see exactly what that other girl was doing - but the slobbering noises coming from that approximate direction suggested a particularly enthusiastic and thorough rimjob.

Her ability to focus on what anyone else was doing was rapidly diminishing, however, in tune with the accelerating movements of the Apis above her. His initial thrust had been powerful, but slow - and the tightness of her pussy prevented him from moving all that much faster even afterwards. But though her labia remained tautly stretched around his shaft, her body WAS adapting... and the indescribable sensation radiating out from her womb ensured that she was well-lubricated. Bit by bit, the bull's movements grew easier and faster. As the enormous rod began to pound her with real conviction, shaking her body, her eyes rolled back in her head, and nothing else mattered in the least.

Meritamen had watched the whole thing, her initially worried frown turning into a smile as she heard the groans of pain turn into moans of pleasure. Hathor, whose gentle eyes had not missed the change of expression, chuckled. "I altered them as was necessary, no more, no less. The rest, while perhaps unpleasant in some ways, is an important part of the experience. Have no fear - both of your daughters are fine." Meritamen's eyes immediately focused on Hathor' inhumanly-beautiful face again, as the goddess laughed. She really shouldn't be surprised that the Goddess of Motherhood could perceive such a thing, she reminded herself. She HAD been somewhat worried, especially when her youngest daughter was chosen by one of the bulls, but she had also been proud, and she knew that worrying was folly. Hathor was not the kind of goddess who would demand a sacrifice in blood, after all.

Suddenly, she realized that Hathor was naked before her, and blinked in surprise. She hadn't seen the goddess undress, nor was the dress lying around anywhere. It seemed more like the cloth had simply... disappeared when it was no longer needed, and the results were immediate. Her cheeks flushed, the slit behind her legs started rapidly self-lubricating, and her brain pushed aside the sounds coming from behind her as unimportant. The unreal beauty of the goddess most definitely continued below the neck, giving her a paradoxical attractiveness that made her head hurt if she thought about it too hard. The breasts were large, full and heavy, yet also pert and shapely. The waist was slim, yet curvy. The thighs seemed soft and inviting, yet strong and muscular at the same time. It wasn't as if the images were flickering, or one was superimposed on top of the other - rather, she felt like her mind was simply struggling to interpret and describe a level of perfection that did not, COULD not, exist in the mere, physical world.

No more words were exchanged between them - the signal was clear. It was time for Meritamen to prove her worth to her goddess, to show that she was truly worthy of the title of God-Wife. Hathor's firm hands guided her head down and forwards, and she found herself bent over the edge of the throne's seat, her face wedged between the smooth thighs. A seductive scent tickled her nostrils as she gazed upon the very core of the Goddess of Love, up close. It was the most perfect pussy in existence. Symmetrical and straight, the outer labia were both deliciously meaty and small enough to show the gentle pink within, drops of sweet-smelling nectar leaking from between them. And despite being perfectly proportioned to the gigantic body of the goddess, it somehow seemed to be just the right size. Hungrily, she pushed herself forwards, mouth open and tongue emerging, as she readied herself to put all the skills she had learned over the past two decades to their greatest test.

It had, indeed, been nearly twenty years since she learned the meaning of a woman's love - shortly after the death of her husband. Her first experience had been a tentative, clumsy thing, yet so very sweet, and garnished with the spice of the forbidden. Her teacher had been a worldly, experienced woman, several years her senior, and had taught the young widow much... then, however, she had grown bored and moved on with nary a word. She was apparently the kind who loved the challenge of the pursuit, conquest, and education more than the result.

Finding another lover had been... difficult. She could not risk being discovered, considering the current political and religious climate of Egypt. She grew increasingly desperate and driven as months passed, warmed only by the remembered pleasures that her teacher had created between her legs, and her own increasingly-skilled fingers. She had loved her husband, that much was sure - and she loved the five daughters he had given her even more. But until that fateful night when, half-drunk and feeling sorry for herself, she had allowed herself to be seduced by another women, he had been her only sexual partner. That was how it was supposed to be, that much was generally agreed upon. She had gone to the altar a virgin, and never betrayed his trust. But now he was dead, and THEN what did society expect of her? That she grieve for him and wear black forever? That, she could not do. Once she learned of all the pleasures she had never even known existed, she became driven to explore them further.

So when she finally found another woman who shared her tastes, she was determined to keep her. She threw herself into the relationship with gusto, not minding that her new lover was a couple of years younger than her - after all, had it not been the same way with her and her teacher? The skills she had learned then, she rapidly sharpened, applying herself fully to the task. Despite knowing better, she could never quite shake the feeling that her first female lover had left her because of some failing on her part... that she simply hadn't been good enough at pleasuring her. She would not let history repeat itself, and soon her skills grew to the point where her fingers and tongue could keep her lover in a state of constant orgasmic bliss for hours.

Nonetheless, their relationship came to a sudden stop when the other woman's family forced her to get married - to a man, of course. Their last night together was tender, yet painful - tongues interlocked as they kissed, fingers buried in one another's pussies. They hugged, they rubbed against each other, they pinched and sucked at nipples, and did all the things that they had enjoyed doing together. But when morning came, they had to part, and Meritamen knew that she had lost yet another lover for good.

By then, however, she was nearly thirty. Her children were growing up, and she hoped that time had cooled her blood enough that she could do without a lover. Certainly, she wouldn't miss the stress of maintaining secrecy, even from her children. Some regular masturbation with her by-now skilled fingers would be more than enough, surely. And with that philosophy, she managed to pass a couple of years... growing steadily more and more desperate for the gentle touch of another woman. And with the passage of time, technology became her tempting devil and her saving grace, all at once. Computers and the Internet were becoming increasingly commonplace, and her oldest daughter was starting to pester her to buy a computer for their home - 'for schoolwork'. Thanks to the significant sum left to her and her children by both her late husband and her recently-passed parents, they had the money, and so, she relented... and soon learned of a whole new world.

Determined not to wind up as one of those 'perplexed by technology' parents, she had her daughter teach her how to use the computer, and found herself picking it up with surprising ease. Soon afterwards, she heard gossip from other mothers about the 'dangers' that lurked on the internet - predators and sexual deviants, looking to pounce on impressionable women, dragging them into all sorts of filth. With increasing desperation burning between her loins, she decided to investigate those rumors, late at night after her children had all gone to bed. She maneuvered through bulletin-boards and mailing-lists to the quiet tune of the dial-up modem, eventually finding what she was searching for - a number of fairly obscene 'classified' ads relevant to her local area.

Including one from a woman seeking 'experienced female companionship'. Pouncing on it, she exchanged a few messages with the person behind the ad... and a week later, they had their first face-to-face meeting. Again, it was a somewhat younger woman, but this time, it didn't feel like it. She had her hair cut short, entirely in defiance of tradition, and had several tattoos. She was also obviously even more experienced than Meritamen, and had quite the take-charge personality. It reminded her of her old teacher to an almost uncomfortable degree, and she all too easily fell into old habits. Her new lover seemed delighted with both her oral skills and her eagerness to please - though perhaps 'putting out on the first date', as she put it, helped too.

Things became somewhat of a haze from that point on. Her new lover had the sex-drive of a young person, and Meritamen was terrified of being alone again, swiftly answering every 'booty call' that came her way. The other woman obviously sensed this, and her requests and demands soon became more extreme. Where before she had practiced her skills, Meritamen now found herself training her endurance, but she went at that with as much determination as ever. She also had no complaints when her lover started to introduce new things to their games - it was far too close to the way her first female lover had taught her. First it was dildos, of which the other woman had a significant collection. In retrospect, Meritamen knew that her lover simply hadn't had her skills or endurance when it came to licking and fingering, and had compensated - cheated, really - by using vibrators and dildos on her instead. But at the time, it was simply an amazing new discovery worth countless orgasms.

From there, things branched out. She learned about ass-play, and was only briefly reluctant - after all, her first lesbian experiences had been a revelation in what kind of pleasure she could get from her pussy, so why not, right? More to the point, she did not dare contradict her partner, going along with every request or suggestion without protest. Before long, she found herself on her knees with a large vibrator working away in her ass, her tongue buried in the younger girl's rectum. Next came the ropes... and soon the implicit power-balance in their relationship became overt. She spent most of their nights together tied up to varying degrees, with her new 'mistress' switching between sitting on her face and moaning, and working various toys in and out of her helplessly-exposed orifices.

But soon, even that wasn't enough, and the woman started to give her 'long-term' orders, such as never wearing underwear or pants. The later wasn't a problem, since she'd grown up hearing that PROPER girls only wore skirts, but going commando at all times was... nerve-wracking, and a bit exciting, especially when she was at work. A few times, her mistress would even ambush her leaving work, and drag her into a secluded back-alley or public toilet to 'check' that she was being honest... going down on her in the process. Of course, if she'd had any intention to 'cheat' before then, that certainly took it out of her... and the dangerous thrill of doing something so forbidden in a public space helped get her some tremendous orgasms, despite her partner's otherwise mediocre oral skills.

But her mistress was always looking for new ways to push the envelope, coming up with and losing interest in new variants regularly. One month, it was piss-play, and Meritamen frequently found herself with her tongue buried in the other woman's pussy, stimulating it while the sour, hot fluid poured into her mouth. When the interest was at its peak, she spent a whole week as her mistress 'exclusive toilet', even being ordered to leave her workplace every day during lunch-hour, for a regular rendezvous in a nearby public toilet - and then returning to work with her stomach churning from a bladderful of fresh piss.

For another few weeks, a black leather riding-crop became the center of their games - and she wound up walking around with semi-permanent red marks covering her thighs, breasts, buttocks and pussy-mound, the latter two of which she had to walk around with uncovered. She was terrified that a stray wind would pick up her skirt while she walked along the street, showing off the signs of her perversion for all to see. But... also excited, at least enough to compensate for the pain her new 'education' caused.

The last gift her mistress gave her was a leather harness, similar to a pair of panties, but strapped on with buckles... and designed to hold a pair of large, heavily-textured dildos in place inside her. They shifted whenever she moved, and when she sat down, they pushed hard against the limits of her physiology - particularly the one in her ass, which was right at the limit of what she could take. She was under orders to wear it always, and only take it off with specific permission from her mistress... so whenever she needed to go to to the toilet or take a bath, she had to phone her mistress - who, fortunately, had a cellphone - to ask first. Usually, the permission was given with some specific condition, such as having to put clothespins on her nipples and clit for as long as it was off, masturbating her way to a set number of orgasms first, or cleaning both dildos with her tongue before reinserting them. And thanks to the recent spread of those newfangled cameraphones, she could even send photographic evidence that she'd obeyed to her mistress.

Of course, much like when she'd walked around with red marks all over her private places for weeks, she had to be very careful about never undressing around her kids. It had been difficult at first, making sure they never walked in on her in the bath or on the toilet, and always wearing a nightgown that covered her lower body when going to bed, despite the Egyptian heat. But the kids had adapted, and it had soon become routine. Her oldest daughter, already a grown woman, was very helpful in that regard, keeping her younger sisters in line. And, well, if some of the older girls took advantage of the fact that locking the bathroom when one was using it had become the norm... that was entirely natural for a growing girl. Anyway, as far as they all were concerned, she was just their widowed mother, remaining faithful to the memory of their father, and going out with her friends on the weekend to blow off steam. They did not know that she had cut her hours at work significantly, and was supplementing her income with money from the inheritance, in order to spend more time with her lover and mistress.

She'd worn the harness for nearly a month, and had gotten quite used to it, when it happened. After work, she went to one of her usual encounters with her mistress... but found the police waiting there. She quickly backed up, joining the crowd of onlookers, and quickly picked up from the general chatter that her lover had been arrested for "practicing immoral and indecent behavior" - specifically, she'd been caught in a back-alley with her head between another woman's thighs, by a patrolling cop. From the gossip, it was clear that the entire neighborhood had been at least vaguely aware of what was going on in the apartment, what with "various strange women coming and going at all hours", and now the police were searching the place to find more evidence of the suspect's 'moral depravity'. Meritamen knew well that they'd find plenty.

She walked home in a daze, struck by the dual revelation that her beloved had been unfaithful - quite possibly with SEVERAL other women, by the sound of it - and that she had been arrested. Over the next several weeks, she covertly followed the case as it went to court. As she'd feared, her lover's appearance - short-haired, tattooed, and with a tendency to wear men's clothes - hit all the wrong buttons with the judges, and her willful, rebellious personality made it worse. The vaguely-worded laws generally used to persecute homosexuals were usually aimed at men, but now that they'd found a woman who so perfectly embodied the 'social decay' they associated with homosexuality, they couldn't wait to throw the book at her. The fact that they had witnesses-statements that she'd been cross-dressing - which was outright prohibited by law - helped things along nicely, too.

The woman she loved was punished to the maximum extend of the law - 17 years hard time - and was sent to the roughest women's jail in the country. It seemed uncertain if she would even survive, and through it all, Meritamen had been forced to keep her distance, joining in the condemnation of 'that outrageous woman' when the subject came up at work or elsewhere. Having lost four lovers, and the last one so traumatically, she found herself walking through life in a daze, going through the motions, acting like an automaton. She could not bear to get rid of the harness, either - somehow, that would be cutting her last connection to a woman she would likely never see again. There was no-one to call when she needed to take it off, but she still went through the motions - as with everything else - doing the same kinds of things that her mistress had once ordered her to.

When her oldest daughter started talking about moving out on her own, she just nodded along. Everyone she loved abandoned her, anyway - one way or another - so why not her daughters? She also felt vaguely guilty that she'd never done the sort of things her mother had - introducing her daughter to eligible bachelors and setting up an arranged marriage when a match was made. In fact, she'd been so preoccupied with her own love-life (or, occasionally, lack of same) over the past several years that she'd barely paid attention to her daughters' lives beyond making sure they were clothed, fed, and taken care of.

However, one night several weeks later, everything changed again. As she was getting ready for bed, her oldest daughter entered her bedroom and, in no uncertain terms, told her to sit down. Confused, she did so, wondering what her beloved daughter wanted. Then, the young girl told her that she knew everything. Back when she'd first used the family computer to search for a new lover, her daughter had been able to tell somehow afterwards - she still wasn't THAT great at computers, but apparently visiting websites left an imprint of some sort if one did not specifically prevent it. Once she'd gotten the idea, she'd kept an eye out - even following her mother to work and 'out with the girls' on the weekends several times. Between that, and being just generally observant, she'd found out just about everything that had been going on between the two women. A few months earlier, she'd gotten even more evidence... when she started checking her mother's cellphone for photos whenever it was left unattended for a few minutes.

Meritamen felt sick and confused. It all seemed like a nightmare. Her most closely-held secret was out - her own daughter knew, and was surely disgusted beyond all measure. All she could think of to say was, "Are you going to turn me in?" But her daughter just laughed, and pulled off her nightshirt. "Of course not, mother dearest. What do you think I've been masturbating to whenever I'm in the bathroom for the last several months? I took some copies of those pictures you've been sending your girlfriend..." When the naked young girl - her own flesh and blood - literally threw herself at her, a part of her was repulsed. Another, larger part, however, felt the curves of another woman against her flesh, and knew instantly what to do.

There, on her bed, in the heat of the moment, they made love. Her daughter's slim fingers unbuckled the belt of the harness, pulling it off and throwing it aside. Then she buried her fingers and tongue in the gaping pussy left behind, making her mother squeal in pleasure. It wasn't long, though, before the roles were reversed, and she found herself shuddering under orgasm after orgasm, her mother's fearsome cunnilingus-skills unleashed on a largely inexperienced target. All night they wrestled, all thoughts of sleep chased away, kissing deeply and frequently in the manner of lovers, not parent and child.

Later, when they'd both calmed down, Meritamen's daughter explained that once she'd figured everything out, she'd started looking back at earlier years, retrospectively deducing her first two relationships. And she'd also come to the realization that her mother had been miserable whenever she DIDN'T have a lesbian lover - and a happy, constantly-smiling, often-laughing woman when she did. It had cemented her own emerging desires, but recent events had made it clear that searching for a lesbian lover would be risky. However... she DID know of at least one lesbian who had just lost her partner and would be in need of comfort. It had still taken her some time to work up the courage to act on her thoughts, but she'd gone through with it in the end, and was glad for it.

Enough said, plans for her moving out on her own were quietly scrapped, and the two frequently found time to enjoy one another's company. Meritamen, by now, had extensive experience in the various games that women could play together, and gradually introduced them to her daughter, just to see what stuck. As their games grew more exotic, however, they also became harder to conceal... so it was perhaps no surprise that the second-oldest of the sisters caught on to. Intrigued and aroused by what she'd discovered, and eager to follow in the footsteps of the older sister she'd always looked up to and the mother she dearly loved, she joined them in the game.

By the time a year had passed, all five of the sisters were in on it, even (or especially) the youngest, who was caught in the throes of a hormone-laden puberty. The six women, free of any need for secrecy within their own home, indulged in lovemaking frequently, freely, and in any number of combinations. Nobody wore underwear, or indeed anymore clothes than needed to maintain the illusion of normalcy. Meals usually ended with those who had finished early diving under the table to orally pleasure those still eating. Separate bedrooms was a thing of the past, and they'd simply pushed several beds together in a single room, calling it 'The Sultan's Bed', and slept there together... though rarely without at least a couple of hours of sweaty, orgiastic sex.

The locked bathroom-door was also a thing of the past, and the girls usually took their baths several at a time - and frequently, considering the number of sweaty, messy things they did on a regular basis. Once some of the more exotic lessons Meritamen had learned from her last mistress had permeated through her daughters, it also became established practice that if someone needed to go pee but found one of the others sitting there already, the first arrival had to put her mouth at disposal. Many other dirty little games also developed between the creative young girls, and their mother eagerly joined in them.

However, even while enjoying the closeness and love she shared with her daughters, combined with a vast number of orgasms, she found herself increasingly worried. Not just about the law, despite the fact that her 'crimes' by now stacked up high enough that even the most even-tempered and merciful court would put her away for life. Mostly, she felt the weight of 'sin' heavy on her shoulders. Islam and Christianity alike condemned her actions, and her very existence. And so, seeking succor, she searched for an alternative - with the help of her internet-savvy daughter. She found accounts of a 'neopagan' cult, dedicated to returning the worship of the gods of the old, pharaonic dynasties. Back in those days, there had been no condemnation or law against homosexuality, and incest had been frequently practiced by the pharaohs themselves... and, of course, their gods.

Drawn in by this, she dug deeper, and soon met the members or the 'cult'... the Order of the Ancient Sands, in person. They took her in without question, and when they learned of her more sordid activities, they did not reject her - but instead, said that she was chosen for a higher calling. That the gods themselves would call her to their side. Met by such inclusiveness and openness, it was no wonder that her daughters chose to follow her into the embrace of the Order, too. They joined many other young women who were aspiring to the priesthood, and as they rose through the ranks, they began to hear the whispers... that there was more to the Order than just worshiping gods otherwise forgotten. That they were actively trying to bring them back.

Meritamen was the name she chose when she entered the highest circle of priestesses, those who aspired to become God-Wife to one of the slumbering deities. Her eldest daughter would soon be inducted in the same circle, and was already pondering what name she should take. Two of her younger daughters, meanwhile, had been chosen to join the 'sacrifice' for this awakening, based mainly on their sexual skills and open-mindedness. She knew what that honor entailed, and that she likely wouldn't see them again for a while... but she was content. The world had treated those she loved roughly, but now, she was playing her part in making it a better place.

All of these thoughts and memories ran vividly through her mind as her lips made contact with Hathor's perfect pussy. The taste was as sweet as the smell, and as flawless as the appearance of the orifice itself. Just one quick lick, bottom to top, was enough to give her a heady feeling. But she hadn't forgotten those long-practiced skills of hers - if anything, the flash of memory had brought them more starkly to mind. She'd never failed to reduce any woman she got her lips on into a quivering, orgasmic wreck. Now was the time for the final exam, the proof that everything she'd learned and mastered had meaning.

Her tongue danced around the inside walls of the delicious pussy, while she mashed her face against the outer labia. She moved her head in short jerks to make her nose rub across the clit above. Certainly, it was a few sizes larger than any pussy she'd eaten before, but adapting her technique to that detail didn't take much. She could feel a gentle hand on the back of her head, holding her in place, encouraging her to continue... and half-choked moans emerging from somewhere above, to tell her that her efforts were having a real impact.

As the flow of lubricating nectar increased, her fingers joined her tongue, easily darting inside to tickle the sensitive spots within. At first, it was just a couple of fingers, but there was lots of space... and it quickly escalated, and before she knew it, the hilt of her hand disappeared between the meaty labia. With a mental shrug, she went with the flow, moving her head higher while she started pumping her fist in and out of the soft, moist embrace of Hathor's pussy. Now free to focus her oral skills on other matters other than the main orifice, she kissed, sucked on and licked the thumb-sized clit crowning the vertical slit, peeking fully-erect from under its hood.

Then, knowing that overstimulating the little nub for too long would only desensitize it, she moved a little bit lower - the point just above where her wrist was still pistoning into Hathor's pussy with a slurping sound. The urethra, scaled up like everything else, was still a tiny little hole... but as Meritamen's tongue began to prod it, the tight muscles began to relax, and she managed to insert the tip of her tongue. She started a pattern, varying between stimulating the clit with her lips and drilling her tongue into the urethra below. Every time she returned to the urethra, it was just a little bit looser, and her tongue entered it just a little bit more. She'd managed to work half an inch of her tongue inside when the bladder beyond finally lost containment, and as Hathor moaned above, a deluge of warm, yellow liquid flooded Meritamen's tongue.

For a moment, her tongue corked the tiny hole against the growing pressure, but that wouldn't last - and so, she quickly pulled it back and instead closed the distance, sealing her lips around the top of the pussy-mound, the urethra included. The liquid that rapidly filled her mouth was warm and sour, and yet, somehow refreshing, like lemon tea or something. She swallowed eagerly, again and again, as the goddess' giant-sized bladder emptied itself down her throat. As the flow began to dry up, her tongue darted forwards again, eager to taste the last drops - and easily pushing past the by-now relaxed muscles of the urethral sphincter.

With most of her tongue buried up Hathor's peehole, vibrating it to send noticeable shivers of pleasure through the goddess, she stepped up the intensity across the board. Pushing harder, she let her wrist and forearm follow her fist into the enveloping warmth of the pussy, her fingers caressing the inner walls as they searched around for the most sensitive spots. She was barely surprised to find the spacious orifice swallowing her arm nearly up to the elbow without difficulty, and her fingers finally found their mark - the cervix, entrance to the very core of the Goddess of Love. With relative ease, she worked her middle finger into it, right to the root.

Then, having folded the rest of her fingers into a fist, she started to pump her hand in and out vigorously - simultaneously fisting (and forearming) the full length of Hathor's pussy and fingering her cervix. Combined with her still-busy tongue and the way she constantly nuzzled the erect clit with her lips, it was a level of raw stimulation that would have long-since reduced any mortal woman to a quivering, oversensitized mess of multi-tiered orgasms - assuming it had even been possible for someone with normal human physiology. For Hathor, it was just enough to get her off, and as she moaned loudly, an orgasmic light shone from her body, illuminating the entire chamber.

As the light hit the black bulls, they emitted bovine roars, joining their mother in a simultaneous climax. Below them, eight women moaned as they felt torrents of hot cum filling their already stretched-out wombs. All of them had been bouncing from orgasm to orgasm since the ritual started, driven onward by the bull's bone-shakingly powerful thrusts, the pain in their stretched-open pussies long since forgotten. The huge, dangling balls swinging between the legs of the Apis had been productive, too - the cum pouring into them was thick, hot and plentiful. Their unnaturally-flexible wombs rapidly expanded to contain it, causing abdomens to bulge out dangerously all the way down the line. The women clutched at their full bellies, feeling the cum churning inside - all of them knowing that the sensation was just a vague taste of things to come. Soon, each womb would instead be filled by a growing Apis-calf.

The sated bulls stepped back, pulling their long, cum-stained cocks out of the tight orifices they'd been buried in, leaving them dangling wetly. The women twitched on the floor, floating on the afterglow of dozens of orgasms, jizz leaking slowly from their gaping pussies - but it was nowhere near the flood one might have expected. Deep inside each of them, the cervix snapped shut like a tight rubber band the moment the thick bullcock disappeared, preventing the vast amount of cum now filling the womb from escaping - or at least, ensuring that it did so only slowly.

Those women who had not been 'chosen' the first time around, and had been forced to resort to pleasing the bulls in other ways, leaped into action now - each eagerly jumping at a chance to lick, fondle and caress the long, semi-hard cocks. Several of the older women also put their significant assets to work, enfolding the long shafts in their ample bosoms, titwanking them while they licked and cleaned the upper portions of the light-red tools. The bulls did not take long to respond to this treatment, their cocks rapidly hardening again.

As they completed their 'fluffing', the women turned around, one by one, to assume the same kneeling position that they had started with - but this time with significantly less competition. In fact, one of the bulls was left without a partner, wandering towards the dais where Hathor and Meritamen still writhed in pleasure together, his cock still dripping below his chest. Behind him, a chorus of pained cries and groans emerged as the rest of the bulls mounted the remaining women, well-lubricated cocks seeking and finding their target orifices. It was a different set of holes this time, though. As one, the bulls had aimed high.

Seven women writhed in pain, their sphincters pulled open by the intruding bull-cocks. All of them had practiced with various 'replica' toys in preparation for their mission, but several of them had neglected their anal training, convinced that the sons of the Goddess of Fertility and Femininity would be aiming solely for impregnation, and would thus ignore their puckered little assholes. The Apis, however, were in no hurry - and for now, they were acting more according to their shared desires than any kind of long-term plan. Still, even those women who HAD practiced their anal skills, stretching their sphincters with a variety of toys, found the girth of the real thing hard to deal with.

The bulls, however, paid little attention to the pained writhing of their partners, and with their shafts covered in a slick mixture of cum, spit and pussy-juice, they easily slid inside despite the tightness. Wrestling with the pain of the stretching, the women barely noticed the fact that the Apis weren't stopping, but eagerly drove their cocks into the warm embrace of the assholes right to the root. Only a couple of them noticed the fact that they had a foot and a half of solid cock lodged clear up the ass, without hitting anything or bending - and realized that Hathor's earlier blessing had reached their rectum too, presumably lengthening or straightening it to make room. They had to deal with the girth on their own, but at least they didn't have to worry about the heavy, powerful bulls thrusting straight through their intestines.

While the bulls began to thrust in earnest, pounding the overstretched asses of the seven women, the youngest of the girls was starting to recover, out near the edge of the ongoing orgy. Shaking the orgasmic cobwebs out of her head, she struggled up to a kneeling position to take the pressure off her bloated belly, and looked around to reorient herself. The bull who'd been riding her earlier was now mounting the girl who'd been feeding him her pussy, driving his long shaft into her ass with powerful thrusts of his muscular haunches. She could feel her own asshole tightening at the sight and had a brief 'better her than me' thought, before reminding herself that she'd no doubt wind up in a similar position soon enough.

"You okay, li'l sis?" She looked up, eyes homing in on the source of the voice, and saw her older sister standing in front of her - somewhat unsteadily, and with a noticeable bulge on her abdomen. She grinned up at the older girl. "Just fine. I figured you got picked, too, when I couldn't see you. I guess you were hiding under a bull somewhere on the other side of this orgy... I mean, Religious Ritual." Her sister answered her grin just as broadly. "Yeah, guess the Apis knows what's good. I got a bit worried when I saw one of 'em had jumped you, though. Guess it was lucky you didn't wind up in the second round, though - I know you haven't been training your ass as much as you ought to."

The younger sister rolled her eyes. "You never get tired of lecturing me, do you? Well, I'm afraid I can't really concentrate on being properly scolded when you're standing there, leaking like that..." reaching up with both hands, she cupped her sister's firm buttocks and insistently pulled her forwards. The older girl laughed and followed along, bringing her pussy - which was, indeed, dripping with a steady flow of bull-cum - over to her younger sister's face. Eagerly, she covered the glistening shape of the pussy-mound with her mouth, tongue darting into the still-open hole as she relished the familiar smell and taste of her sister's pussy amidst all the supernatural craziness she'd walked into the middle of. Even then, though, she couldn't entirely escape the unnatural properties of the situation. The cum she was scooping out of the well-lubricated pussy with her tongue was WAY too tasty to be real - slightly bitter, but savory... almost meaty. It tickled her tongue, and chased away her fatigue even though she was only managing to collect tiny amounts of it.

Around her, the other girls who'd been part of the first wave were joining together in similar arrangements, all eager to taste the divine sperm of the Apis. They moaned as tongues dug into sensitive, rubbed-raw pussies, the sound resonating amongst the hard walls of the chamber and creating an eerie harmony with the pained groans of the women currently being ass-fucked by the bulls. Several pairs of girls shared mouthfuls of still-warm cum in intimate kisses, including some that hadn't shown lesbian tendencies or interests beforehand. The presence of Hathor seemed to fill the chamber with a certain ambiance that made everything seem reasonable.

While all this had been going on, Meritamen had continued her in-depth stimulation of Hathor's pussy, womb, urethra and clit, keeping the goddess on the peak of pleasure for several minutes. As the orgasm faded, however, a gently push on her forehead signaled to Meritamen that she should stop. Somewhat grateful for the break, she withdrew her tired tongue and aching hand, the latter of which dripping-wet with sweet-smelling juices, which she quickly started to lick off her fingers. Hathor, eyes still gleaming with orgasmic bliss, smiled beatifically down at her - but then her eyes panned up, and the smile turned into a lusty grin. Meritamen followed her eyes, craning her neck to look over her shoulder.

Right behind her, with an unmistakably horny look in his eyes, stood one of the Apis-bulls, his long, light-red cock dangling beneath him, reflecting the light of the obelisks wetly. As Hathor got to her feet, leaving her throne to walk up to the bull, Meritamen quickly scurried out from underfoot. From beside the throne, she watched in awe as the tall goddess petted the bull - one of her many bovine sons- on the head. Next to her, the huge bull looked more like a large dog than anything else. Then, Hathor turned to grin down at Meritamen again. "I have so missed the companionship of my sons... but I fear this would be a poor time to let them impregnate me again. Your task, thus, is to ready my ass while I ready him..."

As Hathor dropped to her knees beside the great bull - which didn't look so great next to her - Meritamen quickly nodded and approached the goddess' rear. She watched Hathor support her weight easily on one elbow, bowing her head low to get underneath the bull's barrel-shaped chest, her free hand guiding his dangling, semi-erect shaft towards her eager mouth. That maneuver SHOULD have been rather awkward, what with the tall, black, arching horns rising from Hathor's crown, a golden-red disc wedged between them - but she made it look simple. Then, as Meritamen sank to her knees behind the goddess, a pair of huge, perfect buns blocked her view. They were, in fact, IMPOSSIBLY perfect, just like the rest of Hathor - big and jiggly, but tight and muscular at the same time. They were also far enough off the ground that Meritamen was eye-level with them kneeling with her body straightened out.

She gently spread the twin globes, marveling at the sensation as her hands gripped them - the skin was unbelievably soft and smooth, and just a little bit slick with sweat. Between them, a tiny, star-shaped hole winked chocolate-brown, only slightly darker the perfectly-tanned skin. Without hesitation, Meritamen lodged her head between the twin hills and let her tongue trace the edge of the sphincter, relaxing the muscles with a gentle touch. Once she felt the muscles begin to loosen under her touch, she leaned down a little bit further and let her lips cover the hole in an intense and intimate kiss, while her tongue pushed through the sphincter and inside.

It was surprisingly tight around the root of her tongue, especially compared to how loose the pussy had been, but what really astounded her was the taste. Over the years, she'd lodged her tongue up the ass of maybe a dozen women - starting with her third lover, who introduced her to that particular form of sexual contact, then expanding to include all five of her daughters at varying points in time, and finally counting a number of casual lovers she'd had since joining the Order. The taste had never been part of the appeal - rather, it was an 'in spite of' thing. She liked the sounds and facial-expressions that her skillful tongue could prompt from her partners when applied there. She liked feeling dirty and slutty by doing something so taboo and perverse. And, of course, it WAS an effective way to prepare an inexperienced asshole for intrusion - be it fingers, a dildo, or something bigger. When there was anything to be tasted, it was generally a grimace-worthy sign that her lover hadn't been as thorough in her personal hygiene as she should've, or the inevitable result of flavored body-oil being involved.

But Hathor's ass didn't taste like peach body-oil, nor did it taste bad. The flavor was reminiscent of fresh mushrooms, maybe even the fancy kind, like truffles. It tasted earthy and a bit sharp and a bit dusty, and altogether delicious. With redoubled eagerness, she dug in, tongue whirling as she licked every inch of Hathor's rectum that she could reach, lips glued to the sphincter. The sound of the goddess' delighted moans - muffled, like she had something in her mouth - refocused Meritamen's attention, however. She wasn't doing this for her own amusement, she reminded herself - she had been given a specific task. Reluctantly she pulled her head back, briefly admiring the way the sphincter glistened with her spit as it puckered up again in the absence of her tongue, before gently pushing a pair of fingers into it.

Moving her fingers to massage the rectum beyond where her tongue could've reached, she continued to lick around the rim of the sphincter, caressing the loosening muscles. She could feel the tight hole relax as she worked her fingers in and out, regularly sucking on them to keep them lubricated and partake once again in the delicious taste. As the tightness receded, she added more fingers, and started to pull them apart every few thrusts, testing the elasticity of the anal ring. She was nearly at the point where she was ready to bunch her fingers tightly together and push her whole hand inside, when Hathor reached back and gently pushed her away. The goddess' horned head came into view as she sat up on her knees, looking back over her shoulder with sparkling eyes. "A good job done, little mortal - no more, I think. I still want to be able to feel him properly."

Meritamen obediently backed up, absentmindedly licking her fingers again as she watched the still-kneeling goddess pat herself on the back. On this signal, the big, black bull quickly bounced around her body, looking like a big dog in both behavior and relative size at this point. The goddess had to bend her knees and tuck her legs completely up against her chest before the bull was even able to mount her - but that did not stop him from doing so with great enthusiasm, his rock-hard, pale-red shaft unerringly targeted on her saliva-lubricated asshole.

As the bull started to pound Hathor with a level of power that would've rattled the bones of a mortal woman, resulting in a stream of appreciative groans, Meritamen found her spit-slicked fingers straying down towards her own groin. Her tongue and hands had been busy for a while, now, and her pussy cried out from neglect. She was interrupted, however, when the goddess beckoned her over, and quickly obeyed the unspoken command. As she kneeled before Hathor, the goddess grinned down at her, eyes sparkling with desire. "You have done well so far, mortal, and the priestesses you brought have managed to splendidly entertain my sons. As such, I have decided to grant you the favor you requested - hereby, you are my duly appointed God-Wife and High Priestess. Come, and partake in your dues..."

At this, the goddess simply reached out and grabbed Meritamen by the loins, pulling her in closer and spreading her legs in the process. Before she could react, Hathor's head disappeared between her thighs, and her attention-starved pussy rejoiced at the caress of the goddess' warm breath. Then came the tongue - so big, so warm, and so impossibly soft. It made her labia sing as it traced their outline, before plunging in between them. It filled her, teasing every part of her womanhood, pushing deeper and deeper until she could swear that it was licking her cervix. She was climaxing within seconds, lost in a flood of pleasure as her hands instinctively gripped the tall, curved horns rising from Hathor's head.

She could do nothing but hold on for dear life, however, as the goddess took her on the pleasure-trip of a lifetime. None of her past lovers, even her original teacher, had possessed even a fraction of the skill that was now being lavished on her. Indeed, her own vaunted abilities seemed like the random fumbling of a virgin by comparison. Moving purely on instinct, her legs rose to wrap around the large head poised between her thighs, and her hands gripped the smooth, black horns hard enough to make her knuckles turn white (despite some dim voice in the back of her head saying that it was probably some kind of blasphemy to grapple a goddess in such a fashion), and her voice rose in loud cries of pleasure.

The orgasms went on and on, with effectively no space between them, and as her eyes rolled back in her head, she slipped repeatedly in and out of consciousness. Every time she started to regain her composure, fresh waves of orgasmic ecstasy rolled over her, pushing her back into the darkness. The session was reduced to a series of disconnected images, mental snapshots from the moments where she'd managed to cling to reality for a few seconds. Sitting on Hathor's thigh as their lips locked together, tasting herself on the goddess' tongue, while long, slim fingers reached deep inside her. Feeling a strange, burning sensation between her legs as Hathor went down on her again, the pain soon drowned out as impossibly-dexterous fingers pushed into her ass, simultaneously with that big, soft tongue reaching into her pussy again. Looking down between her legs to see the head of a cow with elegantly-curved, black horns, licking away at her groin like it was a particularly delicious salt-lick, and realizing that it was an unnaturally beautiful cow.

When the darkness at last receded, she had no idea how much time had passed. She was on all fours on the cold stone floor, and the snorting, black-coated mass of an Apis-bull was above her, roughly pounding her ass. She could feel him burying his shaft inside her asshole to the root on every thrust, flattening her butt-cheeks with the impact, sending little shocks of familiar pleasure through her. She could also feel a liquid sensation of warmth inside her, and glanced down between her pendulous boobs to see a small bulge on her abdomen, showing off some of the old stretch-marks in the region. Apparently, he'd already cum in her pussy, somewhere during her blackout. The ass-fucking, meanwhile, seemed to serve as a buffer - easing the crash at the end of the long-lasting orgasmic high. She was definitely enjoying it, but it wasn't 'mind-blowing' the way her earlier session with Hathor had been.

Looking forwards again, she saw that the goddess was sitting on her throne again, still naked, head resting casually on one hand as she leaned on the armrest. Her deep, brown eyes sparkled with humor, and her free hand held a large, dusty goblet of what looked like red wine. Where it had come from, Meritamen could not hazard to guess. "Back with us, are you? I trust you enjoyed your... initiation. You are the only one still standing - after a fashion. The other priestesses you brought with you seem to be all worn out..." Hathor's voice was smooth and soothing, but nonetheless, Meritamen could not suppress the instinctive urge to check on her daughters, and her head swiveled again.

Sure enough, the rest of the 'party' seemed to have petered out. All of the 15 prospective priestesses who had arrived along with Meritamen were flat on the floor, mostly on their backs, showing bulging bellies. A few were still moving somewhat - hugging, kissing, or going down on one another, in that relaxed, unhurried way that the post-orgasmic glow encouraged. Her daughters, too, were cradling each other in a tight embrace, kissing deeply while tired fingers played between one another's thighs. As she watched, the bull above her apparently reached his limit - how long had he been going at her ass before she 'woke up' fully? - and mooed deeply as he thrust forwards fully and began to cum.

She enjoyed the feeling of the thick, hot cum flooding her bowels, but she wasn't about to join him - in fact, she felt kind of orgasm'd out for the moment. So she simply waited for him to finish and back up, his still semi-hard rod plopping out of her ass, and then scooted out from under him so that she could push herself up to a kneeling position, head bowed before her goddess. As she did, she noticed something changed about her body. Several somethings, in fact. Most of the imperfections that her body had accumulated over the years - the starting wrinkles and the odd little spots - had been swept away, leaving her with clean, smooth skin all around. The only untouched thing was the stretch-marks on her belly, presumably because they were the signs of her pregnancies - proof that she had given life to five wonderful girls, and thus something she did not want to lose. As an accent on this change, the well-kept little bush of pubic-hair above her slit was gone, and in its place, a burned-in mark marred the sensitive skin. It resembled a stylized pair of horns with a disc wedged between them...

Looking back up, she saw Hathor grinning down at her, nodding. "Yes, as you have noticed, I have imbued you with a fragment of my power, and marked you with my symbol. Both are your due as my God-Wife, and I expect you to carry out the duties that come with it." She felt like her heart would burst with joy. She truly had been selected - and been given the love of a Goddess. All she could do was bow her head again and whisper, in a barely-audible voice that she nonetheless knew would carry easily to Hathor's ears. "I will serve you always, my goddess, my mistress, my wife - with all my heart and all my soul."

Hathor laughed, not mockingly but joyfully, the sound reverberating between the stone walls like the ringing of a bell. "Well said, my Priestess, my God-Wife... well said." Then, putting her goblet of wine down on the arm-rest of her throne, she got to her feet and walked past Meritamen to pet the Apis-bull who was standing - somewhat forlorn - by her side. "I think this boy's taken a liking to you. I will let him stay with you, to serve as my mouthpiece. He will convey messages from me, and from my brethren when they awaken. Treat him well, and make sure to see to all his needs... oh, and do not worry. Now that you have partaken in my power, pregnancy will find you only when you want it to."

Meritamen nodded in understanding and pushed herself to her feet, feeling her legs wobble somewhat beneath her. She followed close behind the goddess as she approached the zonked-out priestesses, and the other Apis-bulls who were milling quietly around them, seemingly chewing cud. She tried her best not to get too hypnotized by the swaying of Hathor's perfectly-shaped, perfectly-pert buttocks, and largely failed. "As for the rest of these girls, I will take them with me to my house. I suppose it will need some work, after this long, and they may help with that. Once they have all born the calves of my sons twice over, I will send them back - hopefully, by then, you will have constructed a suitable temple where they may continue their work." Then she glanced back over her shoulder, catching Meritamen's eye. "If you wish to say your goodbyes to your daughters, or the rest of your students, now would be the time."

Nodding gratefully, Meritamen stepped around Hathor and off the raised dais to bend over her two daughters - despite looking half-asleep, they noticed her immediately, and interrupted their makeout-session to face her. "All right, you two... sounds like it'll be at least a year and a half before we see each other again. Try not to get homesick, do as Hathor tells you to, and make me proud." Her voice was thick with emotion, despite her best efforts, and the two girls smiled as they pushed themselves up to a sitting position so that she could lean down and give them a quick, but warm, hug. "We'll be fine, mom... and we'll have fun, no worries." The youngest grinned as she said it, eyes twinkling with desire as she eyes the nearby bulls. The older girl was smiling too, nodding. "Yep... oh, and tell big sis that she'd better be a High Priestess by the time we get back, okay?"

With this simple farewell, they parted - but Meritamen took care to quickly walk down the line of half-dazed girls to tell them all that she was proud of their accomplishments, and had faith that they would serve Hathor well in the Land of the Gods until their return. Hathor herself nodded in approval, smiling at the motherly concern Meritamen showed for them all - and when she was done, with one final smile, she waved her hands in the air, and the glow of the obelisks intensified painfully. Meritamen squeezed her eyes tightly shut against the shine, and when it faded, she opened her eyes on an empty, dusty chamber, lit only by a handful of fallen torches, nearly burned down. Her only companionship was a bull - a fairly ordinary-looking, smallish ox, at that. Black-coated with curly, worn-looking horns, and a vaguely-triangular white splodge on his forehead. As she approached him, he licked her hand and pushed his head against her arm like an over-eager puppy, and she laughed, petting him like Hathor had. Together, they left the chamber, climbing the steep passage that led back up to the surface, where the workmen would hopefully have finished packing everything up to leave...

END - HATHOR IS FREE