water.
Polydorus went
inside and ordered Sappho released from the trap. She was led
inside too. A girl, an Abyssinian, lean and small breasted, knelt
in the centre of the room. She held a bowl in her hands, just below
her mouth. It was empty. Six men stood around her, holding their
stiff cocks in their hands. The girl looked up at them as they
masturbated. Her brown eyes dwelt on their cocks, watching them
throb and expand, seeing the skin tighten and redden. Behind them
stood more men, all naked, all waiting.
Sappho
shivered. Polydorus called for a chair. A large ornamented throne
was brought. He dropped into it heavily and motioned Sappho to sit
on his knee. She held back, unsure, but he waved his hand at her
insistently and she approached.
'Sit here, my
little priestess. Make yourself comfortable for the exhibition of
buk-ka-ke. I am interested to see how it affects you. Yes, sit on
my knee. I want to feel your squirming buttocks against my leg. I
want to feel the moistness of your crack against my skin.'
He lifted his
robe and exposed his naked thighs. She sat nervously across his
left knee. She felt her naked flesh squeeze down against his
muscular thigh. She felt fearful and embarrassed. She pressed her
hands between her knees.
The motion of
the men's hands was hypnotic. She watched their fists pumping their
stiff cocks. The bulbous domes swelled and reddened with the rhythm
of their hands. She stroked lightly the silky skin on the insides
of her thighs. She found herself moving her fingers in time with
the motion of the men's hands. Polydorus lifted his thigh slightly
and she slipped along it, closer to his groin and to the heat of
his own burgeoning erection. She felt the heat from his testicles
rising against her skin. She felt the teasing sideways tension of
his muscular leg against her sex, pulling at it, opening it a
little, allowing its moisture to run against his skin.
The first
spurt of semen splashed on the girl's cheek. She opened her mouth
in response to it, licking to catch any that ran down onto her
lips. She held the bowl out, ensuring the remainder was spilled
into it, collecting in a sticky pool at its centre. The next
spurted over her eye. She blinked as it stuck to her long lashes.
It too ran down her cheek, over her lip and onto her waiting
tongue. The rest she took in the bowl.
Sappho kept
moving her hands between her legs. She could not stop herself. She
watched Polydorus' cock engorging. It rose and strained against the
side of her leg. She wanted to grasp it. She wanted to work her
hand over it as she watched the men with their hands on their own
cocks. She wanted to keep up with their rhythmic movements and make
Polydorus ejaculate at the same time as them.
She could not
stop herself. She grabbed his thick cock in her hand. It swelled
more. 'Show me, my little priestess. Show me how you fill the bowl.
Show me how you nourish yourself on its contents. Show me your
taste for buk-ka-ke.'
Sappho
released her grip on Polydorus' cock. She eased herself on his
knee, getting ready to stand up. Her sex felt wet and the soft
flesh stuck to his skin as she lifted herself off. She stood and
moved forward. No one stopped her. She was acting under her
master's orders. It seemed as though she was in a dream; a dream
filled with discipline, joy and the overbearing excitement of
unknown pleasures.
She took the
bowl from the girl. She lifted it to her lips and drank. She let
the contents slip over her tongue. It stuck to her lips. She left
it there, glistening and gluey. The girl got to her feet and
stepped aside. Sappho slowly knelt. She held the bowl up, offering
her wrists, wanting them bound.
A slave
brought some wet thongs. Sappho did not move. The slave wound the
leather several times, increasing Sappho's excitement. Her nipples
hardened and ached. Her chest pounded in time with her racing
heart. The slave tied the thongs into a knot and stood back.
Sappho brought
the bowl up beneath her chin.
Polydorus went
inside and ordered Sappho released from the trap. She was led
inside too. A girl, an Abyssinian, lean and small breasted, knelt
in the centre of the room. She held a bowl in her hands, just below
her mouth. It was empty. Six men stood around her, holding their
stiff cocks in their hands. The girl looked up at them as they
masturbated. Her brown eyes dwelt on their cocks, watching them
throb and expand, seeing the skin tighten and redden. Behind them
stood more men, all naked, all waiting.
Sappho
shivered. Polydorus called for a chair. A large ornamented throne
was brought. He dropped into it heavily and motioned Sappho to sit
on his knee. She held back, unsure, but he waved his hand at her
insistently and she approached.
'Sit here, my
little priestess. Make yourself comfortable for the exhibition of
buk-ka-ke. I am interested to see how it affects you. Yes, sit on
my knee. I want to feel your squirming buttocks against my leg. I
want to feel the moistness of your crack against my skin.'
He lifted his
robe and exposed his naked thighs. She sat nervously across his
left knee. She felt her naked flesh squeeze down against his
muscular thigh. She felt fearful and embarrassed. She pressed her
hands between her knees.
The motion of
the men's hands was hypnotic. She watched their fists pumping their
stiff cocks. The bulbous domes swelled and reddened with the rhythm
of their hands. She stroked lightly the silky skin on the insides
of her thighs. She found herself moving her fingers in time with
the motion of the men's hands. Polydorus lifted his thigh slightly
and she slipped along it, closer to his groin and to the heat of
his own burgeoning erection. She felt the heat from his testicles
rising against her skin. She felt the teasing sideways tension of
his muscular leg against her sex, pulling at it, opening it a
little, allowing its moisture to run against his skin.
The first
spurt of semen splashed on the girl's cheek. She opened her mouth
in response to it, licking to catch any that ran down onto her
lips. She held the bowl out, ensuring the remainder was spilled
into it, collecting in a sticky pool at its centre. The next
spurted over her eye. She blinked as it stuck to her long lashes.
It too ran down her cheek, over her lip and onto her waiting
tongue. The rest she took in the bowl.
Sappho kept
moving her hands between her legs. She could not stop herself. She
watched Polydorus' cock engorging. It rose and strained against the
side of her leg. She wanted to grasp it. She wanted to work her
hand over it as she watched the men with their hands on their own
cocks. She wanted to keep up with their rhythmic movements and make
Polydorus ejaculate at the same time as them.
She could not
stop herself. She grabbed his thick cock in her hand. It swelled
more. 'Show me, my little priestess. Show me how you fill the bowl.
Show me how you nourish yourself on its contents. Show me your
taste for buk-ka-ke.'
Sappho
released her grip on Polydorus' cock. She eased herself on his
knee, getting ready to stand up. Her sex felt wet and the soft
flesh stuck to his skin as she lifted herself off. She stood and
moved forward. No one stopped her. She was acting under her
master's orders. It seemed as though she was in a dream; a dream
filled with discipline, joy and the overbearing excitement of
unknown pleasures.
She took the
bowl from the girl. She lifted it to her lips and drank. She let
the contents slip over her tongue. It stuck to her lips. She left
it there, glistening and gluey. The girl got to her feet and
stepped aside. Sappho slowly knelt. She held the bowl up, offering
her wrists, wanting them bound.
A slave
brought some wet thongs. Sappho did not move. The slave wound the
leather several times, increasing Sappho's excitement. Her nipples
hardened and ached. Her chest pounded in time with her racing
heart. The slave tied the thongs into a knot and stood back.
Sappho brought
the bowl up beneath her chin.
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