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The Bull God
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
The Bull God entered the chamber, his huge shadow playing about
the room from the torch in the corridor behind him. Having stooped
slightly to get his great bulk through the door, he stood and swung the
massive oaken structure closed, momentarily silhouetting his horned
head against the leaden orangish glow. The tigress was on a vast
raised dais in the middle of the room. The platform was strewn with
pillows large and small, and with assorted silk, satin, canvas, and fur
bed coverings. In the midst of this diffused shadowland on the dais
lay the tigress she-witch he had chosen from the harem.
She was moaning softly and writhing slowly as if the burning in
her loins was moving through her body, becoming one great ache of
desire needing to be satiated. She had been waiting for her lord since
that afternoon when the lesser satyrs had begun to prepare her. She
had been fed the finest of aphrodisiacs and delights to the palate, her
bath was prepared with crushed lavender and mint, aromatic and
soothing, delicately fragrant. She was read to from the book of
whoredom, she had been sung songs of the lake and the forest and the
ram and the moon. Then, wrapped in ermine, she was escorted to the
nearby mating chamber. It was here, in the glow from the fireplace at
the far end of the room, that the aphrodisiacs started to take effect.
The lesser satyrs used all of their profound knowledge to tease
her mortal flesh to a feverish boiling heat of liquid wanton need.
They had been taught their art by the Horned Deity. They were supreme
in holding the tigress/whore on the precipice of esctasy awaiting the
beast. She was the goddess of the empty vessel, loins needing to be
split in order to make the spirit whole.
The Great God of Potency stood looking down upon her sinuous form
as she stared back through half closed eyes. He smelled like damp
earth and cinnamon. She swore that she felt the heat from his hand
while it was still inches away, and when he stroked her thigh rivulets
of lightning coursed over her skin like a thousand tongues. She gave a
low animal moan and spread her legs farther apart revealing that her
swollen womanhood was drenched in musky juice; the Great Satyr licked
his lips and buried his head between her legs, his burning agile tongue
consuming her sweating cunt. She reached between her legs to stroke
the velvet on his horns, feeling the great power in his bull neck,
while he fondled her ripe breasts. It was a look that was gentle yet
piercing and relentless that he gave her as his head rose. The lips
were moist from his feast, his teeth white as pearls in the night and
his eyes glowing embers.
He moved his hips so that she could reach his huge rigid cock. It
warmed her mouth with its heat and the moisture at the end tasted like
a pungent honey. The cock was large and rock hard. The skin was soft,
supple and fragrant, with the head of the organ being plump and just a
little softer than the shaft. The Great Bull quaked as she swallowed
his cock. His moans were a soft low growling. She held his great rod
with one hand, while she clutched at his arm leading between her legs,
where he was driving her to a frenzy. His powerful arm was misted with
sweat. His scent acted to make her a steaming mosaic of engorged,
taut, and yielding flesh. Grabbing her at the hips, The Beast brought
her flower up to his lips, holding her aloft as if she were a succulent
fruit, while she kept her mouth sucking on his huge penis.
After a moment the Lord of Lust let the tigress-slut onto the
padded dais, almost dropping her onto the furs. With a beaming grin
and a furrowed brow he grabbed her leg and dragged her to the edge of
the raised platform. She knew what was coming; her hips writhing, her
back arching, her fingers blurring over her clitoris, her hand
straining to feel the approaching phallus. Somehow she missed it and
the huge erect organ was in her without warning, sinking all the way to
the hilt, a fullness she had never experienced before. Drenching waves
of warmth cascaded from her melting cunt to her full breasts where they
exploded in fountains of pleasure lava flowing through her senses until
she was the essence of lust. Red was her color, musk was her flavor.
She was purring, possessed. The Bull bellowed, his arched neck bring
his head down to her breast where he licked her neck and tasted all
that was his woman tonight. He was roaring out of control, dragging
her constantly tighter to him, driving into her as if it is to be his
last act. Her head was shaking, violently making her hair fly about,
her body arched like a bow.
Suddenly, for a barely perceptible second, they stopped moving,
THEN THEY STARTED SHUDDERING AND SCREAMING, SHOUTING AND MOANING,
POETIC AND FILTHY LANGUAGE FILLED THE AIR. THE TWO WERE VIBRATING SO
FAST THAT THEY COULD NOT BE TOLD APART AND THE HEAT WOULD HAVE MADE A
MORTAL SHRINK BACK, HAD ANY BEEN PRESENT. THE FURS AND COVERINGS ON
THE DAIS WERE FLAPPING AS IF IN A GREAT WIND. IT WAS AS IF VESUVIUS
WAS BARELY CONTAINED IN THE CENTER OF THE CHAMBER. WITHOUT WARNING
THERE WAS A TREMENDOUS SENSATION OF PRESSURE IN THE ROOM AND THEN WHAT
SOUNDED LIKE A THUNDERCLAP AND THE COUPLE WAS GONE.
In the dim silence it seemed that it was all over, unless one was
patient enough to observe that the fire across the room looked hazy
when looking across the dais. In a few hours the two lust mad entities
could be seen rematerializing. The Great Bull was on his back and the
Great Whore had her head on his chest. After a while longer they
reappeared completely as if they had just gone on a journey and were
back. Thus they had laid for awhile more, apparently asleep when the
door opened. They lesser Satyrs entered quietly and proceeded to light
new incense and to set some wine, bread and fruit besides the dais.
She woke first and saw the last of them leave. As the door closed it
woke the Bull God. She felt his head turn and she looked at him. He
smiled at her and let out a laugh, looking her in the eye. The fire in
his eyes started to glow brighter and she felt a familiar
tingling......he bent his head towards her until she could not see the
glowing eyes but could only feel his warm breath upon her neck.......
CAPTURED FROM:
THE IMAGINATION FACTORY BBS (513)-787-3777
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