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The Saddle
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Dr. Kessa Brammer led him through a creaking metal door into the last
storage room in the antiquities department. He stepped past her at her
direction, looking around the chamber with slight un-ease. He was
perhaps her brightest student, which was part of why she liked him. She
pushed her weight against the metal door, which creaked closed, and
latched with an echoing click. She smoothed her tastefully short skirt,
and moved to join her student where he stood. Her long legs moved
effortlessly in the heels she always wore when she gave tours of the
museum's collection.
"What do you see, Donavan?" she asked in her cool even tone. She had
learned from experience how to prompt her students to discover answers.
She found, particularly with male students, that a little flirting could
go a long way! Admittedly, alone with this fine specimen of a young
man, she was laying it on a bit thick. The young man raised his
eyebrows, and composed himself, and turned his eyes toward the artifact
in the center of the room. He started to speak, closed his mouth for a
moment, and began again.
"Inca, early agrarian, ritualistic object..."
"Very good, go on?"
The object stood in the middle of the bare concrete chamber. A lone
skylight high above cast a shadowy back-light over the bare stone.
"Three feet tall, carved stone, unusual stylized form."
He walked up close and observed the object. It had a curved arch across
its top, and a bowl carved out at one end, one end of the bowl seemed to
have a smooth depression at its lip, facing away from the stone's top.
It was almost like the pouring spout of a pitcher.
"Looks like an altar of some sort" he said, feeling satisfied with his conclusion.
"You might say that... go on.." she prompted him further.
An altar, yes. He was sure of that. The Incas worshiped nature and the
seasons, being some of the first agricultural people. He knew from his
readings that they especially celebrated rights of fertility and rituals
of the growing season.
He knelt and inspected the top of the stone further. Its surface was
warn smooth, as if it had been rubbed smooth by human touch over a
millennium.
"Is it a fountain of some sort?" he asked, making a guess as to the peculiar bowl.
"So to speak, Donavan." She raised one eyebrow, and couldn't help but
smile at his guess. "I'll give you a clue: Think of a saddle..."
She let the nonchalance of her voice trail off into the echoing room.
She smiled to herself from the corner of her mouth, as he turned his
full attention back to the stone object. So engrossed was he in his
inspection that he didn't notice her hands reaching up the back of her
shirt to unsnap the clasp of her bra. He was still oblivious when she
sighed, feeling the weight of her breasts released beneath the silk of
her white blouse.
"Interesting" he said, inspecting the stone base of the artifact. "With
these markings around the bottom -these grooves - it would suggest
that... that the legs were...were.."
"Tied, Donavan. Young men were tied into this saddle. It is called an
Oblerogosta, or 'the fertile earth'. Any idea why?" She was looking at
him cooly from the tops of her unblinking eyes. She took three measured
steps to his side, and helped him to stand up next to the saddle.
"Um..." he stammered "Fertility... fertility ritual, I imagine..." He
stopped short as Kessa crossed her arms across her chest, and in one
smooth motion, lifted her shirt off over her head. Her bra tumbled to
the floor between them, and her breasts jostled to rest on her chest.
She knew she had gorgeous breasts. Her Brazilian heritage dated back to
the time of the Incas. Her nipples stood like amber peaks on perfect
raised circles, surrounded by the full bronze smoothness of her chest.
"Breasts" she began, "are the feminine symbol of fertility. A man can
gauge a woman's fertility by the qualities of her breasts. A woman's
breasts nurture his young, they provide for his family. That is your
second clue."
"So, this.." he gulped again, trying to maintain composure, trying to
hold eye contact with her, his eyes involuntarily moving down to her
chest and lingering there.
"The Fertile Earth is a male fertility ritual, practiced at the
equinox." Her hands reached out and deftly unbuckled his belt. Her
nimble fingers unbuttoned his slacks, and let down the thin zipper.
"Kessa! I...we... we should go back to the class..."
"They're in film about the history of ancient agriculture. It lasts
another hour. I just thought this was a perfect time to enrich your
understanding of the Incas ...Donavan?"
"Um... yes, well, I..." She gave a little tug, and his slacks fell to the floor over his shoes.
"I want you to sit on the Oblerogosta, Donavan. Can you do that for me?
This is the best way to truly understand this important ritual."
Not wanting to disappoint his favorite teacher, he hastily stepped out of his slacks, kicking off his shoes.
"Your shirt too, Donavan" she murmured, unbuttoning his collar. She
slipped it off of his strong shoulders. She could feel his well
developed musculature beneath her fingers as she slid the shirt up and
off his arms. He was 21, prime for the ritual, prime and fertile...
Looking a little uncertain, the young man stood next to the stone saddle. He eyed it, this time with an err of dismay.
"Your boxer shorts now too, please. The saddle must be mounted in the
nude." she said, regaining her flat even tone. She brushed her dark long
hair back behind her bare shoulders, unclasped her skirt, and let it
fall to the concrete. The only light in the room shone in a spot through
a round skylight high overhead. The indirect tones of light shone up
and reflected off of her smooth skin, giving her an almost otherworldly
look. She stared intently as he slipped the elastic of his boxers down
and off of him. His genitals hung solid and heavy. His penis was perked,
involuntarily stiffening into an erection.
"The Incas would select the strongest, most coveted, most fertile of
their young men, and would place them into saddles just like this one. "
she stepped close, moving behind him. She let her hand rest on his bare
buttocks, and slide down his muscular thigh, encouraging him to lift
his leg. Still uncertain, Donavan did as she asked, swinging his leg up
and over the saddle, shifting his weight, and bouncing with one foot. He
took his mount on the back edge of the saddle, and looked down at her.
"You notice, Donavan, the way the saddle is carved out. It has a bowl at
this end. I need you to scoot up a bit." She took his hands in hers,
and and tugged briskly while he scooted forward. She smiled as both his
genitals plopped perfectly into the rounded vessel at the front of the
saddle.
"You see? That's better, isn't it?" She smiled, allowing a little gleeful giggle. "It's perfect, just perfect!"
Donavan hardly knew what to think, but had to admit to himself that it
was arranged pretty well... the saddle seemed to support him very well
beneath his buttocks, and the cup at the front seemed to hold his
genitals, like eggs in a nest. The smooth groove at the front of the
bowl, which he mistook as the pour spout of a pitcher, was perfectly
positioned to support the engorged shaft of a man's penis.
From a tool box near the wall, Kessa pulled a coil of rope.
"This will have to do. They are bringing more authentic articles in here
once they are ready to actually set up the exhibit. I'm helping to
curate it. It'll be an entire exhibit dedicated to sexual rituals of the
ancient world."
"Sexual rituals? Dr. Brammer, I think we should probably... ouch!"
Her knee pressed in the middle of his back, she pulled his wrists
together, and bound them fast! She then knelt before he had time to
think, and had rope loops around his ankles. She then stood and walked
around the saddle... once, twice, three times, binding his legs tightly
to the stone.
"Donavan, try to move."
The young man tried to struggle, but succeeded only in thrusting his
engorged member to the front of the bowl, where it lay comfortably into
the rounded groove. She watched him rock back and forth a bit on the
stone, and then stop, looking to her with uncertainty.
"The saddle shape naturally holds you in position. It should feel snug, but not painful."
She stepped closer, the light shining down her naked curves. "One last
detail with your mount." She pulled a fine silk cord from her purse.
"This is fine South-American silk. Softest of any fibers, yet strong as steel."
Moving to the front of the saddle, she let her hands stroke over the
smooth stone, over the young man's thighs, and lastly up the length of
his stone-hard shaft. She passed the cord under the front lip of the
saddle, where it lay in a groove, and then looped it over the top. With
two tight knots, the man's erect penis was tied fast to the stone,
seated perfectly in the time-worn groove, its end protruding the last
six inches of its length into the air before her.
"Dr. Brammer! Please, I .... I don't feel comfortable... "
From a thermos, Kessa poured the thick hot brown liquid. It had the
consistency of syrup, but smelled spicy and strong... the liquid dripped
like oil from the thermos into the side of the saddle's vessel.
"Oh!! OH, GOD!!!"
"I'm sorry if it is a little cold, Donavan" she said, the liquid rising
around his gonads. He struggled again, only succeeding in dunking his
testicles deeper into the rising elixir. "It has to be chilled to work.
It is called Thupra, or 'Mighty Power'.
Kessa stepped back, and watched. The powerful mixture of caffeine and
herbs was already working. She watched as the young man experienced the
swelling tightness of the most powerful erection of his life! He
groaned, feeling the tightening of the tip of his penis... a hard purple
mushroom. He tried to move his legs again... She stepped close to the
front of the saddle, and with silky smooth fingers, drew the Thupra up
from the well and spread it over his genitals, massaging and rolling
them. With unblinking calm, she looked into his eyes. He was thoroughly
engrossed in her actions. He looked from her eyes to her breasts, to her
hands, and back. Over the next ten minutes, his body readied its seed,
displacing the brown liquid until the whole of the carved stone cup was
filled by his swollen genitals.
"You see, Donavan? Young men were placed in the fields of their
ancestors, and were prepared thus so that their seed would fertilize the
earth." He was looking at her naked body, overcome with amorous desire.
His breaths were growing faster and more shallow.
"Please! PLEASE! "he moaned "I.. I NEED you... I WANT YOU... I just have
to HAVE you... fuck! FUCK!!!' His enormous nuts jostled, bulging over
the rim of the cup, his dick stood out 8 inches, restrained to the stone
by the silk cord.
"Now, in order to fertilize their ancestral fields, the young men also
required the help of the young women of their village." She stepped
close to him, and knelt before the stone-and-flesh alter of fertility.
"The woman performed Kinti-Bilok, or a ritualized form of fellatio.
Donavan, may I demonstrate Kinti-Bilok for you?"
"Please!! OH FUCK YES!" He was panting. She knew his mind was in the right place!
"Donavan, the point of this ritual is to help the young warrior release
the absolute maximum amount of his seed... this may take a while,
despite your... excited state."
Her smooth hands ran the length of his shaft, felt the wetness at its
end. A little drop of slippery transparent liquid. She held the shaft in
her hands, and moved her body.
"The breasts are life" she said, pressing the purple head into her
nipples, one after another, a little string of his lubrication
connecting them for a moment. "They are the cradle and the nourishment
for your children..." she went on. She moved closer, and hugged her
chest. Her breasts bulged up and around his cock, tight and full.
"Oh...Kessa...Kess....." he was sighing, looking down into her upturned
face. Her eyes stayed fixed on his. The slippery liquid from the tip of
his penis spread easily over the smooth skin of her breasts as she moved
up and down. She smiled again, amused at the situation. (There was no
way he could have guessed he'd spend the field trip titty-fucking his
teacher, whom she knew he lusted after.)
"And just as the child suckles the mother, so does the mother suckle the
man." Her eyes never left his, but he watched her lips purse as if to
kiss. Her lips kissed the head of his cock, and then pressed.... and he
felt himself drawn sweetly into her mouth, and then she pulled back
again.
"And just as the she draws his fertile seed, so too shall the earth be laid open and rendered new by his plow..."
Kessa opened her mouth, her long pink tongue extending, licking the
length of his restrained penis. This was one unexpected use for her
college education! Her masters program, particularly, had encouraged her
to hone the fundamentals of cock-sucking. It hadn't been enough to
receive study hard. In order to thrive in the high-pressure academic
environment, and to receive the prestigious appointment to director of
antiquities, she had inadvertently perfected the art! There was
something so thoroughly transcendent and awesome about man's penis. It
held the power direct a man's future, as well as hers. A penis was a
powerful living symbol... particularly close up... particularly when it
was tied down by a silk cord and prodding the back of her deep hot
throat!
In the half darkness of the cave like room, a young man sat, tied to a
stone saddle, his arms behind his back. Before him, the head of a
shadowy naked woman moved up and down, bobbing over and over and over
and OVER....
"Oh, please! Dr... Dr... KESSA....."
His words echoed, his sound dying back to only the slurping sound of the
woman's lips and tongue as they slip relentlessly up and down the full
length of his cock.
"Oh FUCK!!" His bindings creaked with tension, as his muscles struggled
their last against his bonds. The muscles in his shoulders and chest
tensed like stones...
Kess stepped back, allowing him to cool for a moment. He was near, very
near, and she could keep him there! She looked into his eyes, and then
her head moved down again...
He remembered back to the first time his sister's friend Tasha had gone
down on him. He recalled the poignant pleasure he had experienced,
watching his semen erupt in her mouth, dripping from her smiling lips.
He desperately wanted this, looking at Kess's beautiful features, her
smooth naked body... it was just that, every time he felt himself
swelling to the point of no return, she sat back. The cool liquid would
then both calm and engorge him further. This endless cycle seemed to go
on forever!
Finally, there was no way to prevent it, to hold back. The bulging veins
of his manhood had swollen to their fullest extent, and finally the
silk cord snapped and drifted silently to the floor. The silence
suddenly became the sound of crashing ocean waves as erotic fire
consumed him! The fiery heat of the thousand year old ritual was the
immediate fire burning in his loins... the young man gasped, his head
turned to the sky, the milk of his lust suddenly bursting forth, a
turbulent torrent pumping like so many jets from a trembling waterfall!
He exhaled and heard himself calling out loud to the forces of nature.
It was as if all the orgasms he had ever enjoyed were wrapped into one
endless torrent... He felt the slippery heat of her mouth still around
him, and groaned. (She was going to be there, sucking him to the last!)
"OhhhhhhHHHHH YESSSSS.....!!!"
When at last the young man's gaze turned down from the heavens above,
his eyes connected with those of Kessa. She let the slippery wet tip of
his penis slip from her lips. A single string of semen trailing from her
smile to its tip. She swallowed again, and again, and AGAIN. Finally
spoke to him, this time softly, as if confiding her dirty secret:
"Ordinarily, for this ritual, the young man's seed is spilled across the earth of his father's fields..."
She stood up and looked at his beautiful musculature, now restrained and
yielding. He stared at her, his eyes big and brown, like an obedient
puppy dog.
"...I'm a cum-thirsty whore, though. That's why I swallowed every drop!"
Kess leaned down to pick up her bra, and stood, strapping it over her breasts.
"You did well, Donavan." She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead, "Very well."
She cut the ropes with a knife she pulled from her purse. He instantly
leaned forward and cradling his genitals in his hands. They felt heavy
and cool, and a little sore. The tension was gone, though, and he let
out a deep powerful sigh.
"You'll do even better next time."
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Posted on : Sep 3, 2024
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