“We will be hosting the Taksigelse.” Bylar sucked in his breath. The high holy days of giving thanks to the gods. A huge honor to be sure, but also a massive task.
“There will be many things to be done. Girls must practice for the ceremonies, foods prepared, rooms readied. The Council will of course attend and I will host them.” Ovia gasped and brought her hands to her mouth in fear. She was decidedly pale at the news. Yes, it was a big thing to have the high Council of Oblates within these very walls.
“Now, as you know,” he said consulting the pages, “there are different ceremonies for each day. There is a day of thanks for the beasts, one the air and water and heavens, and one for the crops. Everyone within Janos must be properly clothed, I will speak to your girl about the requirements for such. Every room in the building, all the walls, even the ceilings must be scrubbed and then scented with the proper herbs. Furs must be cleaned, everything must be fresh.”
Taksigelse was normally observed quietly, respectfully, with a special prayer each night but otherwise, no special care or restriction. As the hosts however, it was all different. All of Janos would require active participation and preparation. It was an honor to be chosen to host. Every Hausa in the world hoped to have such an event at some time during their reign. Kyr was quite young to be chosen. Many Hausas were never selected. It was a mark of faith and support for his rule. Definitely an increase in his prominence throughout the lands. Any decision of the Council was divinely inspired. It was the will of the gods and they would carry it out as best they could.
...
“In the early times, there were none but the beasts. They roamed the lands, wild and untamed. They had no purpose, they were unfulfilled.” His voice rang clear and deep through the hall. People ate in silence listening.
The first of the girls stepped forth from behind the curtain, bent over, hands dangling, lumbering as beasts. They roamed back and forth, circling each other, pawing and stomping. Three drummers kept a beat, slow, heavy, the sound of the animals.
“The gods looked down and saw them. They pondered. Larki felt that a new creature should exist. One that brought order to the world and a purpose to the beasts. Holaor felt that all was well as it stood. There was no reason to open the door to another kind of being. There was strife among the gods.”
The girls dropped to the floor and huddled on their knees, showing fear. “Great storms raged, thunder struck, the light of the gods flashed.” The drums beat hard and loud while the girls cowered.
The drums softened and the Oblate went on. “Bikot was unhappy. He was fond of the beasts and their sadness and fear disturbed him. He declared there must be peace. There must be a contest. Larki and Holaor must each choose a she-beast. Those beasts would battle. The winner would determine the course.”
Ielle and Ovia stepped forth from opposite ends of the curtain. They stomped and pawed, circling and moving as the other girls had before them. The other girls shifted, creating a wide circle around them, still hunched into small tight shapes.
They met in the middle, mirroring each other as they moved back and forth. Ielle was older and taller. Ovia was a bit smaller but determined to do well.
“Let the battle begin!” The drums crashed and Ovia ducked her head and charged at Ielle, wrapping her arms around Ielle’s waist. Ielle leaned over her and wrapped her arms around Ovia. They pushed and pulled at each other, moving back and forth. Ielle’s breasts pressed against Ovia’s back. Even through the sheer fabric, they felt soft and warm.
It only took a moment before the shorts rode up and settled themselves between her cheeks, cutting into her delicate areas. Still she battled as though the future of the world was upon their shoulders. Truthfully, Ielle was on her shoulders, and her back. The drum beat again and they pulled apart, both breathing heavily.
“The beast of Larki and the beast of Holaor battled through the day. Bikot and the other gods watched closely. Larki and Holaor spoke to their own beasts, encouraging them to the win.” The drum beat three times quickly. Ovia and Ielle pulled their tops off, up over their heads, dropping them to the side, baring their breasts.
“They each blessed their beasts with healing oils, massaging them while they remained locked in combat, giving them strength to go on.” A girl stepped up behind each of them reaching around and slathering their breasts with a healing oil. It was smooth and slick on Ovia’s skin, her nipples instantly perked under the attention. The fingers pressed into her soft skin, massaging and arousing.
She watched Ielle receive the same treatment across from her. Ielle’s skin was glowing, shimmering with the sheen of the oil. Their eyes locked. They were no longer girls of Kyr’s house. They were she-beasts in battle on behalf of the gods.
Again, the drum beat hard and they locked together. This time upright, face to face, breasts to breasts. They hooked their arms together, not otherwise touching each other except with their breasts. Ielle rubbed herself up and down over Ovia’s chest, then Ovia took her turn up and down. Her nipples were hard pebbles rubbing over the slick skin, pressing into Ielle’s soft breasts then down over her stomach before reversing and returning to her chest again.
She caught her breath when a nipple pressed directly on Ielle’s nipple. It was a heavenly feeling, work of the gods. They were moving faster against each other, feeling each other’s breath, smelling each other’s sweat. The drums were setting the pace, quick then frantic, then a sudden stop.
They stepped back from each other, chests heaving and glistening. “Bikot declared that the battle must end before the nightfall. There could not be another day with no peace or harmony, it must be done. There must be a clear winner, the other must submit fully.”
Ielle and Ovia stepped out of their last bit of clothing, now naked before the Council, the house of Kyr and the Hausas and seconds of their sector. This was the final round of the battle, the she-beast from within must come to the fore to please the gods.
Three quick beats on the drum and final battle began in earnest. They circled each other, crouching low, arms out, waiting to make a move. Ielle sprang, leaping forward and grabbing Ovia, tackling her to the ground. The oil was slick on their torsos making it hard to grip each other.
Ovia grabbed between Ielle’s thighs, thinking only to get a purchase on a part that was not yet oiled. Ielle gasped and retaliated, running her hand over Ovia’s breast, twisting and rolling it on her skin. Ovia attempted to roll Ielle off her but did not succeed. Ielle thrust two, then three of her fingers inside Ovia’s core, shocking her senseless.
She was pinned to the floor, Ielle pumping her fingers into her, curling them up and rubbing intently. Ovia whimpered, unable to do anything except writhe under Ielle’s assault, incredible feelings surging through her. She was dimly aware that everyone watched, everyone knew, but she could not care. She tried to focus on the battle, the weight of the gods was upon her, but it was nearly impossible to do.
Read more in Ovia: A Realm of Janos Novel
|
+Painted+Smashwords.jpg)
