Priestess and the Soldier

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A priestess uses trickery to bed a soldier boy.
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PulpWyatt
PulpWyatt
290 Followers

In the Sovereignty of Holvsren, young priestesses had the luxury of choice. The aspiring acolyte could become a Guide, who would lead the masses away from dark paths, or a Chieftainess, who would organize the clergy. Occasionally, an ambitious young woman could become a High Priestess, whereupon she would join the council that ruled the nation.

But Sachi, a learner two years in training, had her sights set squarely on the Order of Peace. Partially, this was because she liked to work with her subjects directly, as a sister to the masses, not as some distant goddess figure. But she had other reasons. The Order of Peace did not require a vow of chastity, and Sachi took full advantage of that.

Now she stepped lightly through the alleyway behind the Martial Hall, where the entire city's garrison of soldiers trained and slept. These soldiers were often male street rats made good or respectable young men who did not want to marry. In this time of peace, their only job was to stand guard over the nation and its ancient borders.

Sachi had been through the city's seediest alleys. She had seen boys of the night try to woo with their well-practiced lies, opening their shirts just enough to show skin, flicking their painted hair, smiling their fake smiles and blinking their glittering eyes. Sachi had even patronized a few of them. But now she had a more ambitious plan; she wanted a soldier for her bed. If he would come willingly, that was well and good, but if he didn't, she would not back down. She would leverage her power over him, carry him home and make him her whore.

In a lot behind the soldiers' barracks, Sachi carefully stacked crates against the wall, then climbed them until they brought her eyes level with an open window. Peering through it, she saw the soldiers' locker room.

An argument was brewing. A thick-set, shirtless man yelled at a thin young blond boy who just barely had his boxer shorts on. Another man with long brown hair snuck up behind the big brute, mischief written across his grinning face. As soon as he was close enough, he grabbed the waistband of the giant's pants, yanked them down, then turned and sprinted off.

"Hey!" yelled the big man. He turned, extended his mighty arm and seized the trickster by his shirt collar, bringing him down with a single pull. Pulling his pants back up, he knelt over the trickster, shaking him violently.

"Enough!" said a new voice, with the tone of a sergeant.

The trickster and the giant stood up while the blond boy melted away from view. The sergeant spoke roughly to the two fighters, and when he finished, they saluted. But as soon as the sergeant turned away, the trickster took up a thin, wet towel, braided it and snapped it at the bare back of the giant.

The giant did not take it well. He turned, roaring, only to stop with another bark from the sergeant. Sullenly, he turned away again as the trickster blew him a mocking kiss.

Sachi gave a murmur of interest. This trickster was rebellious and full of spirit. It would be a great pleasure to tame him in bed. Most of her friends would have preferred the sergeant, but unlike them, Sachi had no interest in men of rank. She liked courageous men, and that trickster had courage to spare.

She stepped back. It would be him. She would find that trickster on the street and have him. To do that, she needed his name and his patrol schedule.

She sauntered down to the House of Records. In the cobblestone street, she passed businesswomen adjusting their spectacles, couriers spurring on their horses, and even a few men of the upper class out for leisurely walks- accompanied, of course, by their wives.

Past the marble-columned entrance of the House of Records, Sachi asked to see the files of all locally serving soldiers. The clerk gave her a knowing smile, then showed her to a set of metal drawers that held stacks upon stacks of single-page files, each one showing a soldier's name, age, weight and more. The boys were categorized by age, then further by height.

Sachi thought back to the trickster boy she wanted. She remembered a smooth shaven face and long, free hair. That hair was colored a rich chocolate brown, although that did not help her search; the soldiers' photos were all black and white.

She also remembered that the soldier was short for a man, being only about her own height. Taking her best guess to his age, she started at the bottom few drawers and paged through the files, instantly thumbing past any boy who was too broad or too skinny to be the trickster.

She reached the end of the age group without fining the man she wanted. Two years ago, she would have stopped there, thrown up her hands and picked a random boy, or even given up and stormed back to her dorm. But recently, the guidance of the priestesses had taught her patience. She found the next age group and browsed through it.

At last, she found him: Jerafax 'Jerry' Halvsdotter. Besides the mandatory basics of domestic duties and martial etiquette, he had taken classes in mechanics, arts and meteorology, and done well at them all. That was good. Smart men were challenging to seduce, and Sachi was in the mood for a challenge.

And now she had his serial number. In a different room, she looked it up on the schedule sheet and found his patrol times. Apparently, it was Jerry's job to guard the Statue of the Sacred Daughter Rising, and he did so between four and ten P.M. every day. Jerry must have been new to the army, because his schedule was written by a typewriter, not by hand.

Sachi smiled. She did not have enough time to see Jerry today, and she needed to attend Contemplation tomorrow evening, but on the day after that, her schedule was free, and Jerry would be hers.

She strutted back home, full of anticipation. She conjured up Jerry in her mind, imagining him wearing a fancy, heavy ballroom suit, then stripping it off, one little garment at a time. She imagined him kneeling in front of her and saying, "Yes, mistress." She imagined his expert tongue as he-

Sachi dodged out of the way as an automobile clattered by in front of her. The driver honked her displeasure as the black machine faded into the night. Sachi frowned after it. Horse carriages were pain enough, but the new motorized ones were nothing less than a menace.

At the Clergy's Building of Residence, clergywomen from the youngest of acolytes to the greatest High Priestess lived as neighbors. At Sachi's dorm, her three fellow learners looked up from their books, saw her smile and registered different degrees of surprise.

"Sachi?" said her friend Nika, at last. "What's happened?"

Sachi stood in the middle of the room, waiting until she had everyone's eyes. "I'm bringing a boy home," she said at last. "And not just some street whore. He's a soldier."

Eyes went wide all over the room. Jenni, who had taken a vow of chastity early to show her commitment, looked down with disappointment.

"That's right," said Sachi, "the day after tomorrow, I'm bringing him in here, and I'm not letting him out until everyone's had their fun. Be ready for him at 5 O'clock."

Still wearing her grin, she turned and marched off to the showers to prepare herself for bed.

* * *

Jerry sat around a table, watching his friends play cards as he waited for his shift to start. He checked the clock on the wall, but it was still too early to leave.

"You hear about Colonel Bremer?" asked Kyle, who was always ready for small talk.

Private Gorse slammed his fist on the table. "The nerve!" he growled, "Giving up his post to be a harem man? What a sellout!"

"I just feel sorry for his men," said Kyle. "He left them to a female officer. A man knows what's a real fight and what's just a common scuffle. A man can take a joke. But a woman?" He shook his head. "Those boys' asses will be smacked raw in a fortnight."

Unlike the officers' lounge, the privates' barracks were a male environment, where soldiers could say such things free of feminine judgment.

Gorse drew a card and frowned. "What do you think, Jerry?" he asked, trying to distract from his losing game.

Jerry shrugged, maintaining his easygoing smile. "I'm not upset, really. He abandoned his duty as a soldier, yes, but the princess had his name on her harem request, third from the top. He had a duty to his men, but also to his queen and her daughters." He grinned. "Besides, he may be getting screwed on a regular basis, but is that so different from what Kyle's doing to you?"

Gorse rolled his eyes. He flicked a card onto the table, saying, "Watch your mouth, or that's what I'll do to you in the shower room tonight."

Jerry took the comeback with good humor. With one more look at the clock, he decided that it was time to leave. Excusing himself, he stood up and marched out to the lockers.

Five minutes later, he stepped out of the barracks, fully geared up, and began the walk to the Statue of the Sacred Daughter Rising.

On the way, he saw a boy kneeling in an alley. His hair dye marked him as a whore, but he was clearly taking no business. He clutched his stomach and grimaced with pain.

Jerry knelt next to the poor boy and offered a palm full of coins.

The boy pushed his hand away. "I don't do men," he said, in a strained voice.

"I don't want your business," said Jerry. "This is a charity. You're ill, aren't you? And you have no one else to help you?"

He nodded.

Even in the shady alleys, this was a rare thing; he must have gone terribly astray for the Compassion Sisters not to have helped him. But Jerry offered his hand anyway, saying, "Take this and get yourself a physician. A good one."

The boy looked disbelieving, then reached out a fragile hand and accepted the coins. "Thank you," he said softly. "What's your name? I owe you now."

Jerry smiled waved this politely aside. "You don't owe me anything. We're all sisters and brothers in this world." With that, he stood up and went on.

When he arrived, he found his friend Buck at the base of the statue, standing up straight like a good soldier but clearly ready for his rest.

"Jerry!" said Buck, showing his pocket watch. "You're a minute and a half early!" He stepped up to Jerry and slapped his back, a little too hard. "Putting in overtime, are you? There's a good man." With that bit of fun, Buck waddled off for the barracks, leaving Jerry to begin his shift.

Jerry set his feet in place, squared his posture and settled it for the six-hour wait. Time rolled by. His eyes glazed over. His knees stayed stiff as his mind swirled with random thoughts.

"Hello, Private," said a woman's voice.

Jerry snapped to alertness and was shocked to see a priestess walking toward him. Judging by her age, she was probably still an acolyte, with unblemished skin, only medium-length brown hair and arrogant confidence in her dark brown eyes. Most strangely by far, she was looking at him. Guards were never supposed to attract attention; no one, male or female, ever looked at him while he was on duty.

"Yes, ma'am?" said Jerry, checking that he was standing up straight.

"Private Jerafax Halvsdotter," she said, stepping up so close that she nearly trod on his toes. "I know a great many things about you." She started circling him. He could feel her fingers playing with his hair, caressing his neck and even tugging at his collar. "Here's one thing any woman can tell. You're beautiful." She stopped in front of him and faced him with intense purpose. "You're too beautiful to stand here all night. You're coming home with me."

Jerry took a moment to gather himself. In all his four months at this post, nothing like this had ever happened. "I'm afraid I can't do that, ma'am," he said gently. "If only beauty could counteract orders, I'd be all yours."

"Oh, would you?" She leaned into him, fingers picking at his armored chest. "I'm a priestess, you know. You realize what I could do to you?"

At her touch, Jerry could feel his poise eroding. He quoted his training manual, "As long as I follow my orders, no priestess can legally discipline me."

"Oh, I can do more than legal discipline," she purred. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her explanation: a diamond-shaped green pendant that hung from a shiny chain, inscribed with some clerical rune that Jerry did not recognize. "With this," she whispered into his ear, "I can make you impotent."

"What?" Jerry swallowed. "For how long?"

The priestess grinned. "Once I've taken your manhood, no one can give it back."

"You're bluffing!"

The priestess pulled back just far enough for Jerry to see her sharp smile. With one hand, the priestess undid the top three straps of his armor, opening his chest to the cold air. As she fondled his smooth-shaven skin, her other hand dipped into her pocket and pulled out a thick iron ring that hung from a midnight-black string. She touched it to the green pendant, then held it up to his face, swinging it gently back and forth until he followed it with his eyes.

"I am going to put this over your cock," she said, relishing every word, "and tie it with a special knot. And when I finish the enchantment, I'm going to take it off, and this..." She rubbed the hard mound on his crotch. "...will never be hard again. Unless, of course, you do what I say."

Jerry tried to put together a suave comeback, and nothing came to him. His sense of duty screamed at him to keep to his post and let this woman do whatever she thought she was going to do. But as a man, he also had a duty to obey women. Besides, if she did not get what she wanted from him, she would only find some other soldier to prey on.

"I'll do it," he said, not believing his own words.

The priestess unhooked one of his belts and looped it around his neck. "You're mine," she hissed through grinning teeth. Tying it around his neck as a leash, she yanked the belt, pulling him down the road after her, forcing him to stumble in her tracks. He tripped and caught himself on his hands, and the priestess finally stopped, giving him just enough time to stand before she kept going.

"Keep up, boy," she smarmed. "You've got a big night ahead of you."

* * *

Sachi marched back through the halls of her home, full of victory. She had done her research and gone through her act perfectly, and to show for it, she had the cutest boy in the city guard following her on a leash. She threw open her apartment door and marched in like a queen, watching as her roommates sat up and gaped. Jenni stood up, looking flustered, and padded out the door, muttering a prayer to the goddess of willpower.

"We're here, Jerry," Sachi sang. "Home, sweet home." She reeled him in by his leash, watching his pretty eyes go wide as he stumbled toward her. Pulling him close, she whispered in his ear, "I hope you're ready, boy. We're going to do all sorts of crazy things to you."

She could feel him start to sweat. With a cackle, she pushed him back against a wall, pinning him with both her hands on his solid chest, and forced a kiss on him.

"Sachi?" said her friend Nika, walking up to her. "Is this him?"

"He's the one," said Sachi. "You can have him when I'm done."

"Why are you doing this?" moaned Jerry. "There are plenty of boys on the street you can buy. I had to come off duty to be here."

"You just answered your own question," said Sachi. "Anyone can pay for a worn-out cock from the gutter. But you're supposed to be above that. I shouldn't be able just to haul you off and ride you whenever I want. That just makes it more fun when I do anyway."

"But that's so... that's so..."

She put a finger over his mouth, and he instinctively clammed up. "Shh..." she whispered. "You know what, boy?" Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the iron ring she had showed him earlier. "You aren't allowed to talk anymore. Open wide."

Jerry seemed to know when he was beaten. Obediently, he opened his mouth and allowed her to fit the ring into him, tying it securely behind his head.

Next, those clothes needed to come off. She attacked his top strap, peeling it away, then the second one around his midsection and the third around his stomach, adding it to the pile at his feet. Jerry watched, helpless, as she pulled open his jacket, slid it off his body, then finally grabbed his undershirt.

She paused, savoring the moment. She could feel his skin underneath, hot and slick with sweat, his muscles resisting her touch. She peeled up the shirt, revealing his lean, toned body one inch at a time. When she got to his nipples, she saw them both poking out invitingly.

Once his chest was bare, she pulled him away from the wall and pressed him onto her bed. Sachi had no patience left for foreplay; she controlled herself barely long enough to double-check the contraceptive charm she had strapped to her thigh, then attacked the man's pants, clawing open his button. Underneath, she found the hot, musky rod of flesh she had been looking for, pointing straight up for her. She forced herself down onto it. His body responded instantly, and he bucked, pushing himself up into her, almost too far.

She readjusted her grip, shifting her weight onto her hands and setting up her knees to push, she forced herself up and down, each strain of her muscles bringing more pleasure washing into her. Deep, male moans issued from Jerry's throat as he struggled to hold up beneath her.

Sachi slowed her pace and pushed harder, feeling a dangerous little peak of pleasure as she took the last inch, his tip pushing farther into her than she had ever taken a man before.

She felt a twitch travel down the bottom of his cock, and she knew what was coming. He stayed hard for a few more seconds as he sent a viscous pulse rushing into her, then a second, then a third.

She lifted away, still taut and trembling, as his cock shrank away from her, spent. When her knees lapsed, she fell over him, draped onto his hot, vivacious male flesh. She could have slept there.

* * *

Jerry's head was full of cotton. The priestess had wrecked him, not just with her speed, but with her force. His own body had gone along with her, pushing his sperm out into her with a force that rattled him.

Now she draped over him, greedy fingers clamped around his bare arms, head tucked against his neck. He wanted to get her off, but he couldn't well ask her to move, and there was certainly no forcing her. So he stayed beneath her, feeling her heart slow down.

Finally, another woman, this one with thin red hair tied back in a bun, stood beside them and tapped the priestess' shoulder. "My turn," she said hungrily.

The priestess on top of Jerry held up a hand. "In a minute, Nika," she said.

Nika drew out a pocket watch. "I'll hold you to that."

With a little grunt, the first priestess gathered her hands under her and pushed herself up, balancing her weight on Jerry's chest. She straddled him, gave him a longing stare, then leaned down for a brief, wet kiss on the lips before dismounting him and stepping back.

As soon as she did, Nika's businesslike expression lightened, and she crawled onto the bed next to Jerry. He found the strength to sit up, only for her to grab his chin and turn him to face her. A sleight of hand undid his gag, freeing his mouth.

"You're a good catch, that's for sure," she said. "Come with me."

She stood up, and Jerry tensed, fearing that he was about to paraded in public. Then Nika patted a chair on the opposite side of the room, and Jerry's fears cooled.

"Come on," she said. "Sit here."

Jerry stood up quickly, biting back an excuse, and sat prettily on her seat, his legs clasped together. He expected her to separate them, but instead, she settled onto his lap. Her narrow back rested smoothly on his chest.

"That's good," she said, settling in. "Yes, this excellent." She drew out the first syllable of 'excellent' for a whole second.

PulpWyatt
PulpWyatt
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