Deities of Deceit

Chapter Ten

Nimah Eze | Ten
INTO THE DESERT WE DROWN
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I always considered myself immune to canal impurities.

I did not crave it, nor did I entertain such vanities. I was an exemplary worshiper, and it grounded me to know my faith was unwavering and unshaken, regardless of how hard I was tested. It made me believe I could trust and believe in myself, even if I stared into the eyes of a tempting devil.

That night, with my face between her legs, my lips a few inches away from the forbidden flower of life, sacred for only the bonds of marriage, my faith wavered. In a matter of seconds, a new goddess had claimed me, and she rested in between the legs of a strange servant girl whose attraction to sin knew no bounds.

Fidgeting, I lifted my gaze to look into her eyes, staring down at me across the tip of her hard nipples. The side of her lips twitched when she beheld my gaze and the shivering of my body intensified a great deal. I wondered if that would be the moment I destroyed my oath of purity. The question ran through my head as I battled to remain chaste.

"R... release me, I beg of you. Else... I will forsake myself," I stuttered against her skin. The hot air from my mouth caressed her flower and my face.

We remained locked in a deep stare in silence as I prepared myself to lose our unspoken dare. Her face was plain and void of any hint of what would become of me. I wasn't incapable of simply turning away and racing to the door. That scared me the most. The bondage in my freedom of choice.

The room was silent enough for the drumming of my heart to deafen me. Our breathing moved in sync, and the world around me faded away.

It would have taken her only a whisper of another command to break me and force me into burying my face into her wetness. Nothing would stop me from riding the high.

I had never tasted a woman or man. Amongst servants, there was gossip of how it tasted against one's tongue, where to suck or lick, where to touch, rub. I listened in every now and then for the giggle and silliness, amusing myself with thoughts of how my wedding night would be. I sometimes prayed my partner wouldn't be a virgin like me. It would be no good if both of us had no knowledge the human form.

There were far more important things in life than fornication, and in my eyes, nothing triumphed giving myself to someone completely under the oath of a life bond. But in that moment, there was a wish, a regret of sorts. If she did give the command, I would be no good, and she'd certainly be disappointed with my performance.

She sat up just a little, pulling back her jeweled feet, covered in gold and silver anklets. Gently, with her feet on my forehead, she pushed my shivering body away from her and pulled her robes together, crossing her legs. Her stare was a flaming weight that burnt my flesh. I swallowed and lowered my gaze.

"First," she began in a quiet sweltering tone I knew was not intended to convey seductiveness, but did anyway, "I will make you my husband." She leaned forward. "Then I will make you a whore. My. Holy. Whore." A chuckle escaped her.

She was as audacious as she was beautiful. I couldn't bring myself to stare into her eyes again, but from the corner of my eyes, I watched her regal form rise from the cushion and strut towards the door with swaying hips.

"Before I leave you," she swayed around, her robe gliding in the same manner of grace, "if you did not come to assassinate the queen. Whose life then is at your mercy?"

"Uhm... I..." My brain was in a fog, and the words, though I knew them, were not coming easy to me. "They... umm... I mean... he... he... the commissioner of trade." I swallowed, squeezing my gown.