The Battered Lamp Chapter Eighteen: The Windy Bow - Sex Stories

The Battered Lamp Chapter Eighteen: The Windy Bow

... she didn't deserve him. Not after she sold Aaliyah to the coven. I should have just shared him. I would have been happy. Aaliyah wasn't so bad. And she knew how to lick pussy. We could have had a lot of fun together. Loved each other. “The only way she could give me Kyle is by controlling him.” “And?” The fake-Kyle cocked his head, puzzlement creasing his brow. Christy wasn't going to make that mistake again. “It doesn't matter. I am putting my trust with Iris and Ishtar.” “And I'll be waiting out here. When she rejects you, we'll have such a lovely conversation.” Christy looked at the end of the rainbow path and the shimmering curtain of light. Her body trembled, fear rooting her in place. If Ishtar didn't accept her, she would be at Erinyes's mercy. Death would be far better. But she couldn't go back to Hecate. Serving the goddess had been the wrong decision once and it had cost her everything. She stepped through the curtain of light and entered Ishtar's realm. Lush plants dangled from terraces, curtaining stone walls with green, flowering veins. Water fell from the terraces to pools dotted with flowering lotuses. The air was warm, a light mist cooling her skin, carried by a perfumed breeze. A sweet song ghosted on the breeze, summoning Christy through the hanging gardens. Christy followed, pushing past hanging trellis, flowering vines caressing her face as she moved deeper and deeper through the garden. Her fear retreated with every verdant brush. What could harm her in ...

... this place? She only heard warmth and love in the song. The further into the gardens she ventured, the more beautiful and lush it grew until the stone was almost choked by the vibrant, flowering plants. A rainbow of flowers surrounded her, the colors more vibrant and saturated than anything found in the real world. The song led her to a still pool, the waters cerulean and colorful koi swam in the depths. Lilies and lotuses dotted the tranquil surface. In the middle stood a woman, the water up to her waist, her breasts lush and full, white milk trickling from her fat, dark-red nipples. Her face was beautiful, perfect, her eyes a deep, warm brown. “Mother,” Iris greeted, the spirit dancing across the waters, her youthful figure the color of rainbows. “You have guided her to me,” purred the Goddess Ishtar. “Well done, my beloved daughter.” Iris giggled, reaching her mother and bending down to latch onto her milk-laden breast, sucking loud, cooing in delight. Christy's mouth grew dry as she ached to satisfy her sudden thirst on the Goddess's heavenly substance. Ishtar smiled at her, soft and motherly, and beckoned to her. Christy stepped into the shallow water. The mud at the bottom of the pool was thick, her feet sinking up to her ankles in the muck. She grunted, taking a step forward, her foot sinking almost to her knee on the next step. She struggled, barely pulling her foot out, and took another step. Her foot sank even deeper into the thick, warm mud. “What? What's going on?” ...