The Mountain - Sex Stories

The Mountain

I removed my robe and stepped naked through the narrow opening. I could feel the adrenalin pumping through my veins. I had thought about this moment for so long. I had thought about it until the fear turned into a longing, a desire that had become a bitter sweet taste invading my soul. I had been led through a meanly-lit, blackened cave by two acolytes. They stopped, unwilling or unable to go further. It did not matter. I had volunteered for this. The stories and history of this moment we're steeped into our culture. Someone had to make the sacrifice. It was something I would do alone. There was no light, only deep, deep shadow. Anyone stepping through that opening, entered complete darkness. The blackness enveloped me. For a moment I stood frozen, overwhelmed by fear, but I assured myself that it had to be this way; I needed to do this more than I have needed anything in my life. I stepped warily forward. Three tentative paces, carefully feeling for the floor ahead of me. I had no means of judging where I stood or how big the space was. I could see and hear nothing. No voice or sound of breathing, just an innate sense that I was not alone. I waited. Nobody told me the protocol for this situation, nobody had given guidance. Far too many had never returned from the ordeal, and the few that did, would not speak of what happened. I sensed that further movement would be clumsy and it was clear from the oppressive silence that words were not welcome, so I waited. Patient. I was ...

... being watched. Studied. It felt like a prickle running up my spine. I knew there was a possibility that I would simply be killed, but I was of age, I was slim, and most important, I was a virgin. The odds of my survival had to be good, but that no longer mattered; for the sake of my people, I had to face whatever outcome fate chose. It became stiflingly hot. I had stood on that one spot for what seemed like hours and became scared I would faint. Somehow I didn't that the sacrifice while unconscious would count and would be destroyed like so many others before me. Something soft and cool slithered across my foot. I gasped. My instincts were to scream and run, but I held still. I had to hold still. Whatever the ordeal was to be, it was starting. This thing coiled around my ankle. I wanted to say that it was a human hand; it had the feel of soft gentle flesh, and while it felt cool against my hot skin, it was not cold like the snakes and reptiles of the forest. Yet it was not a hand in any human sense; there were no fingers, no bony structure. It continued to coil. I could feel it winding its way up my leg, its grip on me becoming firmer. As it reached my thigh and seemed to halt, similar tendrils, for that is what they seemed to be, touched my other ankle and both wrists. I immediately sensed the pattern. I was to be hog-tied. My chance for escape was clearly past, but then, running had not been an option. With both arms and both legs firmly bound, I was hoisted from the floor. ...