Heads, She Wins…

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Ana Foxxx

A short tale of a young man caught between two lovely but implacable adversaries.

All characters are, of course, at least 18 years old.

Please enjoy.


Alexis walked softly in the night, navigating the narrow path as much by its feel under his unshod feet as by the faint starlight.

It was, he knew, unwise for him to be abroad at this hour. Strange things happened to young men after dark around here, everyone knew that. His cross-cousin Crios had vanished last year on his way home from a visit to his grandparents. And, on an equally dark night just two months ago, Silenos the hunter’s son had left to set his rabbit nets and had not been seen since.

Worse, First Moon had set an hour ago, with Second Moon not due to rise for another hour. Alexis shivered in the darkness.

There was however little option open to him. Elder-Uncle’s sickness had necessitated his help on the farm and he was due in the village school one hour after sunrise. Alexis had no wish to be thrashed again by the tutor for tardiness.

Leaves from the dense foliage on either side of the path brushed against the young man’s bare legs, caught at the thin fabric of his chiton. Alexis moved gently to avoid making any more noise than necessary. In his heart, he longed for his upcoming Manhood ceremony, for that day would bring with it the right to carry weapons in self-defence. Until that day, he would be protected by the adult men of his tribe.

That protection was, Alexis often felt, more theoretical than practical. Elder-Uncle had for instance thanked him from his sick-bed, but with not overmuch concern for the boy’s journey home. Such hazards, he had obviously felt, were part of growing up, something which served a valuable function in maturing a youth, preparing him for the truly dangerous realities of manhood.

Moreover, he knew, the white fabric of his chiton stood out in the dim starlight. It was at times like this that Alexis wished his family was not so well-off as to be able to afford the brilliant white Terra-linen his garment was made of. The shabbier, brown-grey fabrics made from local flora were far less noticeable in low light. They take less time to keep clean, too, he thought ruefully.

The boy was startled to hear a low sound behind him, as if a stone had been brushed off the path by an errant foot. He paused, his head turning back and forth, searching for something, anything in the blackness surrounding him.

Alarmed but not yet panicked, Alexis began to walk faster down the path. Second Moon would show its first light presently, but that would be too late if someone – or something – was on his trail.

The boy yelped softly at a sudden pain on his left buttock. It felt like a bee sting, but his swatting hand came down not on an angry insect but rather on a small dart, a tiny arrow.

Another suddenly stuck the young man on his right shoulder. Cursing, he swept it away as he began to run.

The dim light of the village could be seen around the next bend in the path and Alexis sprinted towards it in desperation.

Odd, he thought a minute later. Running shouldn’t be making me this dizzy. But the giddiness increased and he was soon barely capable of walking.

Staggering, Alexis fell to his knees, then to his stomach. His arms and legs seemed to refuse to serve him. He felt a great lassitude draw its dark cloak over him as he sank into a blackness twice as silent as the night.

When the youth awoke, he was alarmed to find himself spread-eagled on a narrow but sturdy wood table or platform, his wrists and ankles firmly tethered to the corners with heavy leather straps. He tugged on them, found them absolutely solid.

To his dismay, the boy noticed that he had been stripped of his clothing. His chiton was nowhere to be seen.

The windowless room was not large, perhaps six paces wide and half again as long. It seemed well-built, with a ceiling of dark timbers and walls of irregular but precisely-fitted smooth stones. Torches burning in all four corners provided the only light. Clean though the room was, the air seemed just the slightest bit dank or musty. That and the absolute silence suggested the room was well below ground level.

Beside him, on his right, were three low steps leading up to a slightly-raised flagstone platform, on which rested a stone throne of ancient design, cut from one solid piece of rock. Carved into the wall behind and above it was a surprisingly lifelike image of the Goddess. Breasts proudly bared, hair styled high in ancient fashion – this much was the standard representation, something to be seen in every temple and village shrine.

Alexis’ stomach sank however at a new detail; both Her arms were now held stiffly out to Her sides, both clutching a handful of serpents, with the snake’s heads pointing out towards the viewer.

Towards Alexis.

His heart sank further as he again thought of his village temple, for there also, in front of the carved image of the Goddess, rested an altar.

A Gaziantep Saatlik Escort sacrificial altar.

Surely not… he thought to himself, in desperate self-reassurance.

His head flipped back and forth, but asides from stone and timber, all he could see was a ceiling-to-floor expanse of white linen drapery at one end of the room. He was puzzling over this when from beyond it came the low moan of a keras horn. Bitter, lonely, its sound made the boy shiver in spite of himself. No sooner had it died down than a priestess pushed through the linen curtain and entered the room.

The woman was in her mid-to-late 30s and dressed in a normal fashion for one of her order, which is to say jewelled sandals, an elaborate floor-length skirt and meticulous makeup. Her high, bare breasts were still firm and, under different circumstances, would have drawn at least a surreptitious glance from the youth. Here and now was a different matter.

Between her breasts, suspended from a silver necklace, the woman wore a curious pendant, a small knife, its blade circled several times by a serpent.

That in itself of course told him but little, for the inner affairs of the Goddess were – for very good reason – scrupulously avoided by all sane men.

The priestess ignored the bare body of boy laid out in front of her. Gracefully, slowly, she made her way to stand in front of and facing the Goddess’ image. She curtsied very low in obeisance, held the pose for some seconds, then stood back up, turned and ceremoniously seated herself on the throne.

Still not looking at the young man tethered in front of her, she raised the tall, slender staff she carried and brought its butt down sharply onto the floor beside her throne. The resulting report echoed throughout the room.

Immediately, two more women entered, each bearing a smoking thurible, incense burners on chains. Smoke oozed and flowed from holes in the polished brass.

The two were however not dressed as priestesses. The young women – and young they were, neither looking more than 20 years old – were barefoot and dressed only in the filmiest of peplos gowns belted around their waists by a length of the same minimal fabric.

Both wore makeup, although much less bold in style than that of the older woman. Both bore the long brown hair of all on the island, although the shorter of the pair had rather a reddish tinge to her locks. She also had blue eyes as opposed to the more common brown ones of the area.

The tall girl had a more lush figure, with fuller breasts, more pronounced hips. Still, while her companion was slimmer, almost slight in build, there was no doubt as to her sex. Her nipples were darker, clearly showing through the fabric of her peplos.

Despite their serious expressions, both were remarkably pretty.

As they circled the altar, eddies of incense drifted over Alexis. Musky, exotic, he found its odour deeply arousing. To his alarm and embarrassment, he felt himself becoming erect.

The two women continued their silent perambulation, deliberately swinging their censers over the boy as they circled him. Both maintained a solemn expression, but Alexis could see their eyes lingering on his now-rampant manhood whenever their backs were turned to the older priestess.

Alexis’ eyes flitted back and forth between the three women. The priestess’ calm eyes were on the girls, as if assessing them.

After the two had circled the altar two or three times, the priestess raised her staff and again drove it down onto the stones.

Instantly, the two girls turned, leaving a cloud of incense over the youth, stepped smoothly to either side of her throne and hung up the censers on bronze hooks protruding from the wall. As one, they then stepped gracefully to take up positions facing the older woman. They curtsied deeply before rising to stand facing her, their arms at their sides.

Again the staff came down in wordless command. The young women gracefully curtsied again before turning in unison towards Alexis.

Their hands went to their belts. A small tug was all that it took to allow the strips of fabric to fall to the floor. Without them, their thin gowns followed, slithering down along their young bodies to collect in pools on the floor around their feet. Ignoring their clothes on the floor, the two women, now naked, stood facing the boy without any apparent embarrassment.

After a moment, they turned as one and, leaving their gowns where they had fallen, moved slowly to out of sight behind the boy’s head, only to reappear a moment later.

The short one came to stand by Alexis’ right side. In her hand were two stiff white feathers, no doubt from the Temple’s bevy of holy swans. Her taller partner stopped by his left side; in her hands was a small, ornate silver bowl.

“I am Melina,” the tall one said.

“I am Narkissa,” announced her slender partner.

“And you are?” the older woman demanded.

Alex flinched at the sound. Her voice was low in pitch, almost rough, as if she had spent a long time in a smoky room. Alexis felt that voice as much as heard it.

“Alexis, son of Miron.” Alexis was proud that he was able to say that much without quavering.

“Alexis, son of Miron,” the priestess intoned, “be grateful that you have been selected for a high purpose. The Goddess Herself has provided you to us tonight.

“Before we proceed with the ceremony of trial, it is but fair that you know for what end you have been provided.

“The acolytes before you have finished their training and apprenticeship. Both are ready for formal advancement to our sacred order of Priestess. It is however our custom that such advancement is competitive.

“These rivals,” she said, stressing the last word, “will now inform you of your part in this examination. Be aware however that part of a priestess’ training is the control of men, especially young and impetuous men such as yourself. Tonight is the final test of their abilities in that area. To that end, they have drawn lots to determine their specific tasks.”

The priestess fell silent. Without further direction, the two young women leaned in over Alexis, as if to allow him to fix their faces in his memory. He gazed back and forth at them, trying to ignore the softness of their breasts pressed against his chest and biceps.

“Your safe-word is ‘Gamma’, the petite Narkissa said, deliberately. “It will be my task to make you say that. If you say it, I win. And then you will be given to Melina. You don’t want to be given to her if you’ve just made her lose her chance for preferment – she has knives.”

“On the other hand,” Melina snorted softly, “if I make you cum,” – and here she reached forward with a cool hand, bouncing Alexis’ rigid length on her palm – “then I win. In which case, you will be given to Narkissa. You don’t want to be given to Narkissa after making her lose – she has teeth.”

Narkissa smiled at him, bent forward and bit his right nipple, not quite hard enough to draw blood.

That introduction apparently over with, the zelatrix lifted her staff and dropped it, twice.

The two girls stepped back, turned towards her and bowed as if one. The older priestess nodded in acknowledgement. They then turned back to Alexis.

The taller acolyte stepped towards Alexis, waved her bowl under his nose.

“This, boy,” she smirked, “will have me the owning of you. You will beg me for release.”

She lightly dipped one fingertip into whatever the bowl held. Her finger moved to under his nose, touched lightly on his upper lip. It smelled of frankincense and… something Alexis couldn’t place.

The slender woman looked at the priestess, almost as if in protest.

“It is permitted,” the older woman replied. Narkissa almost pouted.

To Alexis’ surprise, his lip began to tingle, glow with some strange internal heat. The boy could feel it stiffen, swell, begin to pulse with his heartbeat.

Melina chuckled at the expression on his face. Her fingers dipped deeper into the salve, came away dripping with the stuff.

The girl rubbed her fingertips together, smearing the thick, honey-coloured salve onto both hands. Her fingers then descended on Alexis’ nipples, rolling them between fingers and thumbs, working the ointment into his skin. The boy felt them tingle, then glow, then become engorged with heat. She smiled, dragged a fingernail lightly across one, then the other.

It was all that Alexis could do to keep from shouting. Never before had his skin been so sensitive. He squirmed in his bonds and, to his shame, giggled just slightly.

For the first time, the priestess on her throne smiled slightly.

“You see, Narkissa,” she said softly, “Melina’s use of the balm is not entirely to your disadvantage.”

The young woman nodded at the judgement, turned back to watch. Her blue eyes were fixed on her rival’s hands on the boy’s body.

Melina continued to tease his nipples with her fingertips; the youth gasped as he began to feel her touch all the way down to his groin. In spite of his proper upbringing, in spite of his embarrassment, in spite of his very real fear, Alexis’ arousal was soaring, far faster than he could have imagined.

The girl laughed now, softly, as her fingers again dipped into the salve. Alexis groaned with a mixture of apprehension and lust as her hands began to smear the stuff over his stiff manhood. Softly yet firmly she rubbed it into his shaft with one hand while the other gently worked it into his wrinkled sac.

Alexis was beginning to feel the tingling begin along his whole organ when Narkissa waved a stiff feather in front of his face.

“It’s my turn now, boy!” she said, even though she was no more than a year or two older than he. “She gets to play with your phallus. I, now – I get to play with your whole body.”

The boy shook as she lightly ran the feather up and down his underarms – first right, then left.

“And Melina will stop when you cum, boy. I on the other hand will not stop until you say ‘Gamma’ to me. Plead as you will, only that word will stop this.”

Alexis’ head reeled with the menace in her voice. The strange fumes from the still-smoking thuribles were inflaming his senses, intensifying his sensitivity to all sensations, stoking his desire.

Now she produced a second feather. Smiling thinly, she began to stroke his underarms with motions as synchronized as the most talented flautist at the annual Festival.

Her hands moved together in concert, stroking, finding every nerve as if she could see them under the young man’s skin. He jerked, desperate to avoid the touch, equally desperate to maintain his dignity by not laughing in front of the three.

His wish was, needless to say, unfulfilled. Narkissa was an expert in what she was doing, trained by serious and experienced priestesses with generations of accumulated knowledge in such matters. It was as if Alexis’ nerves had been tattooed on his skin, for she knew each one, where it lay, how to stimulate it best, which others should be teased with it for maximum effect.

Alexis jerked under the soft, meticulous touches, squirmed against his bonds. He bit his teeth together, closed his eyes. The girl continued to run the stiff swan feathers along his underarms, making her victim twist on the altar, desperately clench his teeth to keep from bellowing with laughter.

The soaring sensation of Narkissa’s tickling kept getting distracted by the gentle, relentless hands of her rival at his groin. Fingers, slender yet strong, continued to work the ointment into his sex. Melina repeatedly dipped her hands into the bowl, spreading new helpings of balm over his nipples, his cock, his balls, his perineum and, to his shame, his anus.

No less knowledgeable, no less trained and no less talented than Narkissa in her task, Melina remorselessly proceeded to arouse and torment her captive. Nor was she any less motivated than her smaller opponent; for Melina, she must coax an orgasm from the youth before he surrendered to Narkissa’s tickling.

As stimulating as such treatment by any nude, lovely girl could be to a young man, the unguent was an unimaginable extra. Alexis had never been so stimulated, so aroused. His organ felt to him to be three times its normal size. The skin on his swollen crown seemed about ready to split from the pressure of his excitement.

The boy managed to control himself until Narkissa shifted her teasing away from his underarms. Soft tips of stiff feathers now began to circle around his armpits, spiraling inwards. Alexis couldn’t help himself; a burst of laughter filled the room as he writhed in an effort to escape the insistent stimulation.

“No!” he hissed.

Narkissa ignored his pleas, shifted the feathers to flick quickly over his earlobes. Alexis thrashed his head, groaning in spite of himself.

Melina’s hands slid firmly up his ointment-slick shaft, slipping off his crown and restarting again near his abdomen, following one after the other. The boy squirmed under the constant stimulation, felt his balls swell, his anus twitch. He knew orgasm would overtake him – and soon. But then he would be left to the mercies of Narkissa; the look in her eyes was dark, predatory.

Still goading his sex, Melina leaned in, slowly rubbed pink nipples over his face. As one, then the other, passed over his mouth, Alexis instinctively tried to grasp them with his lips. Smiling broadly, the tall girl repeated the motion, but this time stayed away from his mouth, her proud nipples softly dragging over his eyes, his forehead.

He groaned again as she leaned over his chest, gently brushed her nipples against his. The sensation of her soft flesh moving across his ointment-stoked skin was astonishing.

The tall girl stood up again and, while swaying her breasts at the boy in tease, increased the speed of her strokes on his tool.

Alexis tried to ignore the overwhelming pleasure she was giving him, postpone his release as long as possible. He knew that wouldn’t be forever, but…


He could see Narkissa’s teeth just above him. White, perfectly even behind perfect lips, they looked sharp.

Thoughts of orgasm were in any case pushed aside as Narkissa shifted her feathers, one swirling around each of his aroused nipples in turn. With the second feather, the girl, concentration on her face, began sweeping behind his ears, under his chin.

Alexis convulsed, laughed hysterically, flung his head from side to side on the altar in an attempt to escape.

“Stop!” he cried. “Please stop!”

“Just say ‘Gamma’,” the girl replied calmly.

The boy pulled against the tethers, jerked, squirmed. To surrender, to utter his safe word, would make Narkissa stop, end this, but then he would be given to Melina – Melina and her knives.

Melina, meanwhile, changed tactics. Holding his engorged sac with one hand, she began swirling her other hand over his length, teasing, barely touching. Her one hand twisted around and around, up and down his spear as her other gently but firmly squeezed between his body and his eggs, pulling them away from his bare abdomen.

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