The flame of pleasure once again scorches through her, though again it is not enough. All she can do is grind up and down on the rock-hard member that continues to feed on her ecstasy. The demons needed her to continue, and they wouldn’t be satisfied until they had their fill.
Every year she had to perform the same ritual for the sake of her village. There was no telling what these beings would do if they were unleashed upon the village to search and satiate their appetite, so she did what she must every year – offer herself as the sacrifice to their lustful needs.
For the entire night, they use her body one after the other, caressing, groping and penetrating her, each year growing more accustomed to just what turns her on the most. Although she is used to it now, however, the first time was quite a shock, a level of torment that she had not expected. The demons fed solely off of her pleasure, therefore, every time she came, that orgasm was sapped from her into the beings. Not only was the orgasm taken from her in the sense of its energy, but also the very sensation itself, meaning that every time she came, only the first millisecond of it could be felt before it was stolen so cruelly from her. The first couple of years were torture – when she had originally submitted herself to be the martyr of the village – now she knew exactly what to expect, though it never made it any easier to withstand.
In order to build up enough sexual energy for it, she abstained from sex for most of the year, meaning she came very few times throughout the year, making it all the more difficult to endure this torment of being kept from experiencing a full orgasm. The demons, of course, seemed to enjoy this sense of torment, making sure she had little rest. There was no denying that it was a pleasure, unlike anything else, for her to be the very centre of such sexual energy, to have her own body being the object of their lust and very being. Even the minuscule bout of pleasure from the orgasm torn from her was enough to keep her wanting the next – if only they’d give her respite just once, to let her enjoy it just that one time.
Continue reading The Village Ritual