“The Urst asked us to bathe the night before the auction. We all saw each other disrobe.”

“Mmmm, you’re a cautious one, aren’t you?” Liette reached a hand inside her robe. “Kess, tell him what you shared with me.”

Kess flushed. “I… I thought that the temple…”

“Oh, Omm!” swore Lell, impatiently. “She told Liette you had a big cock.”

Kess fell silent. Lell laughed.

“Yes, exactly,” Liette said. “Let’s see it then.”

Lell unfastened the clasp on Sparr’s wrap, and with a touch of showmanship, tugged it away slowly. His partially engorged cock swung into view.

“Mmmm,” Liette said. The priestess took a sip of wine without taking her eyes from Sparr’s organ.

“Fuck!” Lell exclaimed.

“Kess, you certainly didn’t exaggerate.” Liette was more reserved than Lell, but Sparr caught an unmistakable spark of desire in her eyes.

“No, Liette.” Kess turned her eyes to Sparr, a hopeful smile on her face.

“Hold him,” Liette said. “Get him ready.” The priestess squeezed and fondled her breasts beneath the robe.

Lell jumped at the opportunity. Standing just behind Sparr, she reached around, stroked his shaft, then hefted the organ. Delicate fingers encircled him, squeezing and fondling Sparr’s quickly swelling cock. With her free hand, the brunette reached between Sparr’s legs to tug on his sack.

“His balls are plump,” Lell moaned. “He’s ready to fill you.”

For a moment Liette said nothing. Her eyes slid shut as she kneaded her ample breasts, pinching and teasing her nipples. Only after almost a minute of touching herself did the priestess seem to remember her guests. She opened her eyes.

“They called you Animal in the arena, did they not?”

“Yes,” Sparr grunted. Lell’s soft hands on his cock had him stiff.

“Do you fuck like an animal, too?”

“Yes!” After being sucked by Phia and Velyn earlier, then teased by Lell, Sparr would have said anything. He ached for release.

“Shall we leave you?” Lell asked. She released her grip on Sparr’s cock and stepped back.

“Oh, oh no,” Liette said, a sly grin growing on her face. “Animal, tell me,” she said, her gaze turning to Lell, “do you like her.”

He did. Sparr had been drawn to the confident, quietly sexy priestess immediately. Having her hands on his body had only heightened the attraction. Sparr turned to Lell, drinking in the sight before turning back to Liette.

“Yes,” he panted.

Liette smiled and nodded. “Then take her,” she said. “Take her rough, like an animal. Take her now!”

“Liette, I thought… I thought that-” Lell’s composure faltered as she took half a step back.

“He will have you.” Liette still smiled, but her voice was granite. “Give yourself to him, Lell.”

Sparr was in no mood to wait for the dynamic between the two priestesses to play out. Taking Lell’s hand, he pulled her to a large couch opposite Liette. He lay her down. While the priestess looked at him through worried eyes, he opened her robe. The brunette’s body was slim and soft, pale from a life spent mostly within the temple. Sparr went to kiss her, but she quickly turned away.

“No,” Lell whispered, lips pressed against Sparr’s ear. “You’re an animal, remember? You have to take me.”

Sparr understood. He turned Lell, and in a single motion, tore the robe in half. A spray of pale blue threads floated away. Lell gasped.

“Mmmm,” Liette moaned. By now her own robe was almost completely open. The blonde continued to knead and pinch a breast with one hand, while the other crept toward her slit.

Sparr guided Lell’s mouth to his cock. He had softened little, his cock still eager. Lell’s lips parted. For the second time that day, Sparr felt the blissful sensation of tongue and lips against the head of his cock. Unlike the previous session, he had no intention of only being teased.

“Yeah,” he said. “Good.” Resting a hand against the priestess’ head, Sparr pushed further, the head and first two inches of his cock exploring her mouth. Lell’s brow furrowed as she almost gagged at the intrusion of male flesh. Sparr withdrew to let her catch her breath, then plunged forward again.

“Oooh, yes,” Liette said.

Sparr found Lell’s limit and tested it. The brunette could take almost half of his cock into her throat before retching. It was enough. Sparr pumped her mouth, reveling in the silky feel of Lell’s lips and tongue. Meanwhile, he ran his free hand down and across her willowy body, cupping and teasing her small breasts.

“Mmmmph,” Lell groaned past the cock in her mouth.

“Yeah,” Sparr said, huskily. “Suck it.” He held her in place while pushing the fat head of his organ as deep as the priestess could accept.

“Use her mouth, yes.” Liette flicked and circled her clit, but didn’t take her eyes off the erotic scene playing out before her. “Take what you want.”

Pleasure swirled around Sparr’s cock, jolts of hot bliss shooting into his core. He groaned, dimly aware that he was moving inexorably toward release. His cock was achingly hard. Sparr’s eyes slid shut as he allowed the moment to wash over him.

“Fuck, it’s good,” he moaned. “That mouth.”

Lell pulled free, strings of saliva slapping against her cheek. “Just my mouth?” she panted.

Sparr took the hint. “Let’s find out.”

He pulled Lell to the edge of the couch. The priestess’ skin was porcelain against the riotously colorful fabric. Sparr swatted away the remaining shreds of her robe and parted her legs. Lell allowed it, but as she stared at his bursting cock, a trace of worry flashed across her face. Just as quickly, it faded.

“Yes,” she said, softly.

One knee on the edge of the couch, Sparr slid a hand down Lell’s thigh and across her glistening slit. He didn’t even have to slip in a finger to know she was wet and ready. Sparr guided his cock forward.

‘Unh,” Lell gasped as the head parted her lips.

Sparr teased her a moment with shallow strokes. Once the head was slick with Lell’s desire, he pushed forward again. Snugness greeted him, a blissful, wet home for his shaft. Sparr repeated the teasing thrusts, saturating his cock. Somehow he resisted the urge to impale her.

“Mmmm,” Liette moaned. Her fingers flew over her slit while with her other hand she pinched and tugged at a breast. “She’s yours. Take her.”

Sparr and Lell locked eyes. She watched him intently as slowly he turned the corner from cautious strokes to increasingly selfish pumping. The priestess’ brow knitted, but she gave no sign of outright pain. She offered herself to him.

“Nnnnh,” Sparr grunted. Even before he had completely buried his cock, dangerous tendrils of hot, insistent pleasure began to swirl through him. “You’re so wet.”

“Fuck, you’re hard,” Lell gasped. She was staring at Sparr’s cock as he eased it ever deeper into her gash. “I want it all!”

“Take it then,” Sparr said. “Take my cock.” He was already drenched in her slickness. Sparr spread her legs even farther, and with a single pump, buried his cock.

“Ahhhhhhhh,” Lel cried out, arching her back. Her hands clutched uselessly at the couch. “Oh, fuck.”

Liette was entranced. Her eyes darted over the ecstatic couple fucking less than five meters away. She curled first one finger into her slit, then another. Though her eyes were half-shut, her attention was complete.

“Like that,” Sparr grunted. “So sweet for me.”

“Nnnnh,” Lell panted, still recovering.

The two fell into a rhythm. Sparr pumped steadily, soaking up the sight of the submissive brunette before him. Lell’s slim, pale body was like a toy, something for him to enjoy however he wished. Now that he had conquered her gash, Sparr was at leisure to savor the moment. He took his time, neither rushing toward release nor easing off. She was his to enjoy.

Still, as good as Sparr’s staying power was, every man has limits. With his cock saturated in the brunette’s slickness, each thrust took him farther toward the edge. The nuanced relationship between the two priestesses only stoked his arousal. Lell gave every sign of being a confident, powerful woman. The way she had sized Sparr up, commanded the two maidens, and brazenly flirted with him spoke to her maturity. Yet with Liette present, the brunette fell immediately into a submissive role. Compliantly, Lell gave her body up.

As if reading his mind, Liette spoke up. “No,” she said. Her pale eyes had crept back open. “No, take her like an animal. Mount her.”

“Oh, god,” Lell whispered.

Sparr pulled free, his glistening organ swinging in a broad arc. “Here,” he said, guiding Lell to her hands and knees. He turned her to face Liette and approached her from behind.

“Mmmmmm, yes,” groaned Liette. Her fingers twisted inside of her slit.

“Oh,” Lell said, as Sparr’s cock once again brushed her.

He took her without hesitation. Lell’s already dripping gash welcomed his shaft, offering snug warmth. Sparr drove in, knowing immediately he would finish in doggy. The priestess’ slit was too sweet, too ready. His hips slapped against Lell’s ass.

“Nnnnnh,” Sparr gasped. “Fuck yeah.” His pace built, an unsustainable rhythm that would take him over the edge. He gripped the brunette’s hips, holding her in place as he ravaged her depths.

“Yes,” panted Liette. “Fuck her hard! She’s only ever had the pretty boys, not a beast like you.” The blonde was completely lost to the fantasy she had created. Sparr and Lell weren’t lovers. To her, he was an animal violating and consuming the younger priestess. Liette’s fingers danced across her slit. She would cum soon.

Sparr wouldn’t be far behind her. His day had started by being bathed, shaved, and sucked by two beauties. Lell had driven him further with her flirting, fondling, and stroking of his cock. Now, finally in control, he plunged into her slit recklessly. He wouldn’t be denied.

“Oh, oh fuck!” moaned Lell. On hands and knees, she faced Liette. The two locked eyes as Sparr pounded the brunette. “He’s… oh god,” Lell panted. “He’s so fucking hard. So big.”

“You’re so tight. So sweet,” Sparr groaned. “That pussy.” Every thrust was a ramrod, spearing Lell’s depths.

“Finish her, take her!” Liette said. “She’s yours.”

“Oh please…” panted Lell. Her ass shook as Sparr pumped her. Wild brunette curls tossed and whipped as the partners ground and slapped together.

“Yes, he’s destroying you!” Liette’s eyes were wide, aroused.

“He’s in me so deep,” Lell panted in reply, “stretching me open.”

“Unnnnh, oh fuck!” The scene was too much. Sparr neared the edge, aroused by the filthy talk and Lell’s trembling body.

“Oh god, yes, my pussy!” The brunette’s slit clamped down on the invading shaft. “I’m… I’m going to… oh!”

“Ooooooooooooh!” Liette came first, her eyes snapping shut. The priestess shuddered as her fingers dug into her slit, twisting out an orgasmic wave. “Nnnnah!”

“Faaaaawk,” Sparr gasped. He tumbled into the welcoming abyss. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.” He buried his cock, held it deep, and released a shot of hot seed.

Lell came with him, as Sparr’s final, rough thrusts pushed her over the edge. “Ahhhhhh,” she cried out. “It’s, oh fuck!”

The two crashed together, their orgasms overpowering any lingering shreds of self control. Sparr’s hands seized Lell’s hips like a vise, while the slender brunette’s pussy clamped and released. A new surge of dampness flooded her.

“Yeah!” Sparr grunted as another shot of cum ripped into Lell’s depths.

Liette twisted before the couple. The blonde tossed her hair and clamped her thighs together. Her orgasm crested as she shuddered and moaned. “Ooooooooooh, fuck!”

Lell pushed back against Sparr’s bucking hips, welcoming the last of his seed. She gasped out her release. The two rode the wave of ecstasy together, shuddering and crying out in pleasure. When both were spent, they collapsed in a tangle on the couch, panting and depleted.

Her own ecstasy slipping away, Liette regarded the pair through slitted eyes. Her breath came ragged. She smiled.

“Welcome to the temple.”


“I’m sorry Efreem, but I really had no choice.”

Sparr sat on a three-legged stool at the side of Efreem’s bed. The Olm had been propped up against cushions, the better to receive his visitor. The room the Origin had placed him into was cramped, and in Sparr’s mind, depressingly dim. Like most of the temple’s inner rooms, it lacked any sort of window, instead relying on perforated panels at the top of the door for circulation.

“It’s okay,” Efreem said weakly. The side of his head where Sparr had struck him with the flat of his blade was heavily bandaged, but his beard had been neatly trimmed. Sparr thought he spotted Phia’s handiwork. “I was crazy.”

“You were drugged, Efreem. I’m certain of it.”

“Yes,” Efreem agreed. “The red draught. I can show you the plant when I…” He trailed off, eyes wandering about the tiny room. “What is this place?”

“We’re at the temple. The high priestess, Liette, bought us both.”

“Bought,” Efreem sighed. “Always bought.” He turned his attention back to Sparr. “Your language has improved.”

“I’m a fast learner,” Sparr said, allowing himself a faint smile. In fact, his implant was still learning new words, or in some cases, correcting itself. With attentiveness and daily practice he continued to improve. “Kess is here.”

“I thought I saw her. She’s nice.” Efreem’s voice had a distant quality to it. Sparr had been told he was getting better but now began to wonder. The man’s dusky skin was dotted with perspiration, which Sparr found odd given how cool the temple’s inner rooms were.

“Are many of the Olm sold into slavery?”

“Mmmm? Oh, yes.”

“Why is that?” Efreem was one of the few people who Sparr felt comfortable speaking with openly.

“Us?” Efreem seemed never to have considered the question. “No homeland,” he said. “And we aren’t warriors.”

Sparr raised his eyebrows. “You seem pretty good with a blade. Almost killed me, even drugged.”

It was Efreem’s turn to smile. “We learned in our village. Most of the boys could fight, and some girls. But,” his eyes slid shut, “they came in the night, so…” Again he trailed off.

For a time the two sat quietly. Outside the doorway a burst of giggling rose, then subsided. Sparr tried to imagine what it would be like to be born into a life of such uncertainty that even children had to be taught how to fight for their lives. It was beyond his experience.

Something else occurred to Sparr. “The blades we fought with, they were of much higher quality than I’ve seen here.”

“Yes,” Efreem said. His attention span seemed limited, perhaps by fever or concussion.

“Well, don’t you think that’s unusual?”

“Here, yes,” Efreem agreed. “Vonde is far from the center. There’s less trade here, fewer fine things.”

“The ‘center’,” Sparr said. “Places like Shong?”

“Yes.” Efreem raised his eyes in surprise. “Like Shong.”

“I thought Shong was a dead city.”

“I’ve never been.” Efreem fussed with his blanket, trying to get comfortable.

“But you’ve heard?”

“Shong is mostly empty,” Efreem agreed. “But nearby, there are towns full of marvels.”

‘Full of marvels’ sounded like a marketing pitch that Efreem must have heard repeated. “But only the Origin goes there?”

“Trading caravans go to the center, too, but usually not to Shong itself.”

It was as Stef had described. Sparr’s best chance to get to Shong would be in the company of the Origin. “Can anyone go?”

“Go where?” Efreem asked. He was showing signs of fatigue.

“With the Origin, to Shong. Can anyone go with them?”

“Oh, no. Only the wealthy get to go.”

Before Sparr left he pressed his hand against Efreem’s cheek. The man was burning hot.


Sparr didn’t belong anywhere in the temple.

Though bunked with them, he wasn’t welcomed by the princes. All younger, and seemingly consumed by vanity, the youths shunned the older newcomer. They would fall silent when he entered the room, follow his movements warily, then affect peels of laughter as if at some inside joke. When they weren’t preening themselves in front of the bunkroom’s large mirror, they fussed over their uniforms or exercised in the yard. Sparr had to admit they were a handsome lot, fit and muscular without being threatening. They were, as Liette had said, pretty boys.

The maidens were certainly off limits. Though they giggled or smiled shyly in Sparr’s presence, the young women were either kept busy with temple duties or sequestered in their shared quarters. Velyn greeted him once, a sparkle in her eye accompanying a brazen glance toward his cock. They might have spoken more, but a dour priestess chased the redhead away, shooting Sparr a suspicious look in the process. Like the princes, they were property.

It was in the kitchen that Sparr found welcome. Rounding a corner on the way back to his quarters, he heard a metallic clash and a salvo of curses. When Sparr investigated, he found a woman with Asian features holding a ladle in one hand, and surrounded by no fewer than twenty pots, roasting racks, and skillets, all of which had tumbled onto the well-worn stone floor. She glared at him.

“Have you come to gawk?” she asked, clearly frustrated.

Looking up, Sparr could see that one end of a rack had come loose from where it had been attached to the low ceiling. “I think you were storing too many pots on it,” he offered.

“Try to think less,” she muttered. The chef was scarcely more than five feet tall. Sparr wondered how she had ever retrieved cookware from the rack.

“Here,” Sparr said. He was tall enough to investigate what had gone awry. “Do you have a hammer?”

“Of course, because this is a blacksmith shop. Can’t you tell?”

Sparr thought quickly. “What do you flatten cuts of meat with?”

The chef rolled her eyes but returned with a stout wooden mallet. She slapped it into his hand with more force than necessary. “Show us what you can do, big boy.”

By now several kitchen helpers, little more than children, had wandered into the room. With the chef, they watched curiously as Sparr felt along the ceiling where the rack had been hung. He found a crevice in the stone and carefully tapped in the wedge of crude metal which served as a bolt. Sparr reattached the rack, but only after lowering it by several links in the chain. He repeated at the other end. “That should hold,” he said, “unless one of these troublemakers decides to use it as a swing.” Sparr winked at the helpers, who scattered with a giggle.

The petite chef inspected Sparr’s work, testing with one of the blackened pots. “You lowered it,” she mused. “You think I’m that short?”

“You want me to get you a mirror?”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her lips. “Help me put them back, then.”

When the two had replaced the cookware, the chef retrieved a bottle of spirits from a locked cabinet. “One of the advantages of this job,” she said with a smile. “I’m Silla.”

“Alain,” he said. The two took a sip of the surprisingly complex spirit while Silla eyed him carefully.

“You’re the gladiator,” she said.

“I’m…” Sparr hesitated, “yes, I’m the gladiator. Not really sure why I’m here, honestly.”

“You’re Liette’s new toy, I’m sure.” Silla spoke as if this was a given. “She likes ’em big. Tall, I mean,” Silla said, blushing slightly.

The chef wasn’t as blatantly sexual as Liette or the maidens, Sparr realized. She wasn’t part of the act. “Curse of my life,” he said, allowing a hint of a smile to show itself.

“Seems it serves you well,” she said. “You’re still alive, after all. Heard you took down that Olm, and they say he’s faster with a blade than I am.”

Sparr realized what was different about the woman. On Earth, distinct racial features were becoming increasingly rare. Centuries of interracial relationships, and the babies that came with them, had steadily blurred the lines between races. On Kaybe however, that trend hadn’t held. Silla had obvious Asian features, including high cheekbones, pronounced epicanthic folds, and lips just a touch fuller than was common on Earth. Sparr was intrigued.

Leave a Comment