Crimson Clockwork Pt. 01/03 - Sex Stories

Crimson Clockwork Pt. 01/03

... twenty-three winters. I seek to embrace the Rite of the Last Dusk, as my ancestors once did."

Despite the formal words, deep down I believed none of it. It was all just a game, an illicit little thrill to pursue while I was still young and free. It was easy to pretend, though, for the sake of pageantry and lust.

"Twenty-three winters," a cultist said. "Before the hubris of men brought down the heavens, there were twenty-three gods. You honor their memory by undertaking the Rite at this age."

"In accordance with custom, we have selected twenty-three other supplicants," said a second robed priest. "Nameless and shadowy, one and all. All of them follow the Crimson Night or have partaken in other Rites. Our Circle has already sworn them to discretion. They await you within."

I took a deep breath.

Twenty-three.

Given what I'd heard of this Rite, not every attendee would participate in it. Some had come just to bear witness to the ritualized debauchery while others were there to pursue their own affairs and dalliances.

One cultist handed me a vial of glowing purple liquid.

"To ward off complications," he said.

I was already on an alchemical regimen of my own to ward off such 'complications,' but I downed the vial nonetheless, shuddering at the bitter taste.

Another cultist handed me a small silken pouch, filled with red feathers.

"No one within may touch you until you grant them the gift of a red feather. They may bear witness, they may beg, they ...

... may leer...but they may not touch you until you grant them that honor."

I wriggled underneath my cloak at the thought of having such power. By the dead gods, what a thrill it would be to tempt and tease for the entire evening, driving them all mad, never granting the gift of a red feather...

"If you are ready, we will escort you inside."

I reached under my cloak and withdrew a sleek, feathery mask adorned with purple feathers. I shivered as I settled it upon my face and adjusted the straps.

From what I had heard from my older friends who had participated, some supplicants donned a more complete disguise, but I wanted to leave my mouth unencumbered and uncovered so I could enjoy the proceedings to the fullest extent. I licked my lips as my trembling fingers toyed with the clasps of my cloak.

"Do you swear to give your body and lusts in honor of the dead gods? Do you swear to embrace an eruption of lust and liberation?"

After a quick glance back at the city, I took a deep breath. This was it. My last chance.

My parents had set aside partial ownership of the family business for me to take control of when I turned twenty-five. Thus in two short years, I'd have to abandon all chance at frivolity, and would have to forego all opportunity for wicked games such as that Rite. The family fortune would be my sole concern, with no space left for this sort of debauchery.

It was time for 'one last eruption of lust and liberation,' as the priests had put it.

"I so ...