Supernatural Stories Ch. 02

The sands burned beneath Kato's bare feet. His mouth was as dry as the earth around him, his eyes were stuck in a near-permanent squint. It was all he could do to continue to shuffle forward.

The days passed like this.

In the night, he dared not rest too long. The beasts of the desert cried out in the darkness. He had lost count of the scorpions that he had found scurrying over his prone body. The sharp pricks of their legs on his sunburned skin often woke him out of his sleep.

This was Kato's punishment; to wander the burning sands and brave the hungry creatures that lived upon and within them. All this for stealing from one of his master's wives. If his master had had his way, Kato would have merely lost one of his hands. But the wives had had enough of Kato's stealing.

In truth, that was the first and only time Kato had stolen anything. He'd hoped to gain the attention of the daughter of the lighthouse keeper. She had been a pretty thing, with large almond eyes and lips that looked like they would taste like honey.

The gods had seen fit to punish Kato for not only his own crimes, but those the other servants and slaves had committed.

And so he had been cast out into the desert with naught but the cloth about his hips.

The sun had since risen high in the sky and Kato swore that he could feel the very blood in his veins beginning to boil.

He paused suddenly, squinting into mid-distance and shielding his eyes with one hand.

There was...something in the distance. A smudge like dark smoke.

Perhaps he had reached the other sea?

Kato's scorched feet carried him towards the odd horizon. As he grew closer, he realized that it had not been some bizarre smoke or the sea. Large, towering cliffs the color of mud rose from the sands.

He stumbled through their shadows, grateful for their shelter. His skin cooled a fraction, but his mind was fogged with the need for water. It could have been seconds or minutes, hours, maybe days later that Kato's legs finally crumpled beneath him.

His face landed in something cool. Moisture seeped into his cheek and wetted his lashes. Moisture. The word rang like a bell in his mind.

His fingertips burrowed into something soft and squelchy as he attempted to lever himself up. Mud. And mud meant-

Water glinted in the sunlight, sparkling like the jewels he had tried to steal. Slowly, painfully, Kato dragged his aching body through the mud and thick reeds. He did not stop at the edge of the water, but continued until he rolled over the bank.

He gulped until his belly swelled and it hurt. He scrubbed his shaking hands over his skin and through his hair. Grit and blood, sweat and sand clouded the water around him.

It was only after long moments in the water that he remembered the tales of crocodiles the other slaves had told him. It took him several clumsy tries before he managed to raise himself from the bank.

Kato laid himself out on the sunny bank and listened to the wind rustling through the reeds. The layers of grit, sweat, and blood had caked his flesh and prevented any harsher burns from the sun. There, beside his salvation, Kato slipped into the first peaceful sleep he'd had since being cast out.

Something sharp prodded at Kato's belly and throat. He flinched as something warm and soft brushed over his face.

The sun blinded him until a dark shadow blotted out the golden light.

It was a...woman.

A group of them, Kato realized, craning his neck around. Their voices were hushed. Some of their words were foreign to him. Their bodies were bare save for loincloths that swayed between their thighs in the breeze. White and black markings adorned their faces, chests, hips, and legs. Dark hair was plaited away from their angled faces and was wound with beads of what appeared to be bone.

Kato rose to his elbows.

The sharp objects were withdrawn. They had been spears, he noted. Long wooden staffs with wicked-looking tips. Feathers and bits of hide were wrapped round the heads.

Slowly, Kato stood. His own clothing had been lost to the river from which he'd bathed. His body was bared to their curious eyes.

Being a man in the company of comely women, he was already partly aroused. He made no move to cover himself, though. He had no desire to feel one of those spears poking at him again.

One of the women stepped forward. A long, slender scar ran the length of her cheek. "Come." It was a command that left no room for argument.

Kato nodded and followed after her. The remaining women came after them. His own footsteps were loud in the quietness of the field of reeds. Ahead, palms arose, silhouetted black against the blue sky. Cattle grazed atop a plateau covered in waving grasses. What appeared to be tent-like huts covered with large flaps of dark skins hid among the palms, grasses, and reeds.

They entered a cleared area. The earth was bare here, trampled into a flat circle of brown. A tall, sturdy looking pole stood at the very center.

The woman with the scar halted and held up her hand. "You will wait here."

She strode forward briskly, hips swaying. She disappeared into one of the larger huts. Kato could feel the eyes of the other women on him. The feeling had the hairs on his body standing on end. They remained silent and in that quietness, Kato could hear the faint footsteps and voices of others in the huts and among the reeds.

Kato cast around for a distraction. His eye was unerringly drawn back to that tall pole no matter where he glanced. Lighter marks marred the dark wood in irregular stripes.

Just then, a loud sound cause him to startle.

On the cliff above them, a woman had her lips on the mouth of a great cattle horn. The sound echoed for a long moment before she repeated the call twice more.

Woman of all shapes and sizes began to emerge from the borders of the grasses. Some wore the same loincloths as the ones before had, while others were gloriously naked. Only a few bore the white and black stripes across their skin.

They gathered round the edges of the circle, dark eyes wide.

The flaps of the hut flew open and the scarred woman emerged behind a tall, beautiful woman. Her eyes were lined with dark paint, thin white stripes slashed over her cheeks and chin. Thicker lines followed the curves of her bared breasts and waist, dipping down below her hips to wind around her thighs. Two bovine skulls perched atop her shoulders like a mockery of armor. Another hid her womanhood as it hung from a belt of claws, teeth, and beads about her hips.

Her hair was black as ebony and was plaited close to her scalp on one side, clasped in a high tail at the back of her head. Shards of bone pierced her ears. Her lips were painted black.

She strode towards him, belt of bone rattling. "Welcome, Kato, to Mizarimi. I am Meklit Hiwot, ruler of our people."

"How do you know my name?"

Meklit Hiwot's face raised to the sky for a moment. "The gods speak to me, Kato. It is they who told me of your coming. They have gifted us greatly this day."

The dark woman stepped forward. "Our people have gone too long without the pleasures of the flesh a man can bring. The gods sent you unto us so that you may give unto them this pleasure."

Kato stumbled back. "I can assure you. No gods sent me."

The very air seemed to hum with energy and hunger. Was it his imagination or were the women getting closer with every breath?

"But they have, Kato. Step forward and receive the holy bonds."

The scarred woman reverently placed coils of pale white rope into Meklit Hiwot's open palms.

Kato whirled. He had been a slave once. He had no desire to be so again.

But strong hands trapped him and he was dragged to the tall pole. The sounds of stone on wood echoed as stakes were hammered into the earth at his sides.

Meklit Hiwot wound the ropes round his wrists and cinched his arms high over his head. No matter how hard he tugged, the ropes would not give. Hands ceased his ankles and drew his legs wide apart. The rope that bound his hands now secured his ankles to the stakes.

Meklit Hiwot was handed a bowl into which she dipped her fingers. "Part your lips, Kato."

When he refused to do as he was bidden, his jaw was wrenched open by the women.

Meklit Hiwot's fingers stroked over his tongue, coated in a sickly sweet stickiness. His throat was stroked, causing him to swallow.

Heat licked over and through his body as Meklit Hiwot's fingers dragged that sticky syrup over his chest and down his belly. His hips bucked as she coated his shaft and sac in it before rubbing it between his cheeks to the hidden hole there. Her finger dove inside without resistance and Kato briefly expected to feel pain. But none came, instead, a hot pleasure shot through him.

And then, like some shield had been lifted, the women fell upon him.

Dozens of hands ran over his skin, mouths moved over him. He became a creature that's sole purpose was to receive pleasure. Breasts brushed over his thighs as mouths and lips and tongues explored him. He lost count of how many fingers probed his ass.

He lost count of how many times he erupted into mouths, hands, and sexes.

Night fell and still they devoured him. He was no longer merely Kato. He was certainly gifted by the gods to experience such pleasure. He had to be to continue producing orgasms like this.

At dawn's first light, only one set of hands wandered over his flesh. His shaft was surrounded by a hot channel that immediately began milking him. He was helpless not to give into its demands. With one last brutal yell, he came.

Meklit Hiwot stepped back, black lip paint smudged and his pleasure trickling down her thighs.

The sun broke over the horizon, turning the sky gold and red.

Meklit Hiwot raised her hands and began to sing. The voices of the women rose as one, blending into an enrapturing chant. The ropes that bound him were loosened.

Kato's arms fell to his sides and he slumped into the women's bodies.

"Behold our new father, for he shall give unto us new daughters!He bears the sacred holy marks! Hail the father!" Meklit Hiwot knelt before Kato, beads clicking softly.

Kato glanced down at himself. His shaft was still hard. Across his wrists and ankles, bright white stripes had appeared. So bright it was almost as if the ropes themselves had seared into his flesh.

"Hail!" Came the answering shouts.